Si THE CHRISTIAN LIBRARY COMPRISING A SERIES OF STANDARD WORKS IN RELIGIOUS LITERATURE. VOL. II. PHILADELPHIA: KEY & BIDDLE, 23 MINOR STREET. T. K. COLLINS 8; CO. PRINTERS. 1834. CONTENTS OF VOL. II. PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. Introduction. -------- 1 Lect. XI. — The Gospel Way of Salvation. 25 Lect. I. — The Importance of a Knowledge of the Divine Legt. XII. — The History of the Gospel. 28 Law. --------- ih. Lect. XIII. — The Wisdom of the Gospel. - - 31 Lect. II. — The same (continued.) - . - - 4 Lect. XIV. — The Power of the Gospel to Save. - 33 Lect. III. — The Spirituality of the Law. 6 Lect. XV. — The Grace of the Gospel as a Divine Lect. IV. — The Convincing Power of the Law. - 8 Gift. --------- 36 Lect. V. — The Condemning Power ofthe Law. - H Lect. XVI. — The Glory of the Gospel as a Revelation Lect. VI The Law a Guide to Christ. - 13 of God. 39 Lect. VII Christ our Righteousness. 15 Lect. XVII. — The Glory of the Gospel from its Method Lect. VIII. — The Governing Power of the Law. - 18 of Publication. ------- 42 Lect. IX. — The Effect of Obedience to the Law upon Lect. XVIII. — The Glory of the Gospel from the Sub- - our Salvation. - - - - - -20 jects which it Proclaims. ----- 44 Lect. X The Object of the Gospel. 22 Lect. XIX.— The Gospel Magnifying the Law. - 46 A GENERAL VIEW OF THE GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. Preface. .--...--50 Introductory Chapter. ------ 51 Chap. I. — Our ideas of the real extent of objects on the Earth's Surface often erroneous. True height of Mountains. Depths of the Ocean. Of Mines. Of Volcanic Foci. Eruptions of Mud containing Fish. Volcanoes only in Secondary Formations. True Scale on which to view the Earth. Form of the Earth. Newton's Demonstrations. Gravity and Centrifugal Force. False inferences drawn from Newton's Hy pothesis. True Primitive Creations. Density of the Earth. Reflections arising from the Subject The Days of Creation. ------ 55 Chap. II.— The Second Day of the Creation. The Fir mament, or Atmosphere. Atmospheric Phenomena. Magnetism, and Electricity. ----- 59 Chap. III. — The gathering together of the Waters. The Sublimity of this Fiat of the Creator not suffi ciently understood. The Transition Rocks. - - CO Chap. IV. — Constant Changes in Nature. Origin of Secondary Formations. Primitive Soils, for the Nour ishment of a Primitive Vegetation. Constant Circu lation in the Fluids of the Earth. Springs, Brooks, and Rivers. The Tides. Their Cause Explained. The Currents ofthe Ocean, and their present existing System. Effects naturally arising from these power ful Causes. --------61 Chap. V. — General Nature of the Formations on the Earth. Origin and Progress of Secondary Forma tions. Causes of Stratification in Secondary Rocks. Such Deposits become gradually Mineralized. Cal careous Formations. Salt Deposits. Proof of Gran ite not being an Aqueous Deposit. Secondary Forma tions now in Progress in the bed of the Ocean. 64 Chap. VI. — The Deluge. Traditional Evidence of that Event. Erroneous Ideas commonly entertained res pecting it. Distinctness of Scripture on the Subject. Evidence from Scripture. Evidence from* the An cient, though Apocryphal, Book of Enoch. Theories of Philosophy on the Subject. The most probable Cause of that Destructive Event. - 68 Chap. VII. — Mosaic Account of the Deluge. The Mountains of Ararat. Origin of that remarkable Name. Effects during the Deluge. Action of the Tides and the Currents during the Deluge. Their Effects upon Organic Bodies. Diluvial Strata. Abatement of the Waters. Renewal of the Face of the Earth. 70 Chap. VIII.— General View of the existing Surface. Force of the Waves. Principles of Stratification. Cavous Limestone. Gibraltar. The plains of the Earth. Of South America. Of Africa. Of Asia. Of Europe. Result of this View. Chalk Basins. That of Paris, a Guide to all similar Basins. Salt Deposits. Coal Formations. Evidences of Coal being.a Marine, and not a Lacustrine Formation. - 73 Chap. IX. — Organic Remains. Evidences derived from them. Erroneous Theories of Continuous Stratifica tion. Diluvial Fossil Remains. Diluvial Origin of Coal. Unfounded Theories on this Subject. The Belgian Coal Fields. Tropical Productions in Polar Regions. Buffon's Theory. High Importance of the Evidence of Fossils. Natural and unavoidable mode of Transport. Instances in proof. Buoyant nature of Bodies after Death. Rate at which they might have been transported. The thick-skinned Animals floated longest. -------80 Chap. X. — High Importance of the Evidence of Fossils. Siberian Mammoth. The entire Elephant of the Lena. Theories founded on this Specimen, unsupported by facts. Consistent mode of accounting for Tropical Productions in Cold Climates. Unchanged condi tion of the Climates of the Earth. Italian Deposits. Monte Boica. Fossils on the Coast of Norfolk. For mations of the South of England. The same View extended to the Continent. 86 Chap. XL— The Cave of Kirkdale. Dr. Buckland's Theory founded on its Fossil Remains. Contradic tory Nature of this Theory. Fossil Bones from the Hymalaya Glaciers, and from the Heights of South America. Natural mode for accounting for them. The Habits ofthe Elephant. His most perfect form. His love of the Water, and of a swampy and woody Country. Habits of the Rhinoceros. Cuvier's Opin ion of Fossil Remains. Inconsistency of this Opinion. Evidence of Astronomy. Evidence from Fossil Trees. Conclusive Nature of this Evidence. Evidence de rived from Peat Moss. Foot-marks of Antediluvian Animals. Scratches occasioned by the Diluvial Ac tion. Formation of Valleys. Scripture alone capable of explaining these Evidences. go Chap. XII. — Elephants clothed with Hair and Wool Existing Instances of this Variety, even within the Tropics. Probable Identity between the Mammoth and the Asiatic Elephant. Cuvier's Theory on this Subject inconsistent with Facts. More natural Con clusions. Erroneous Theories respecting Fossils. The Mastodon not confined to the Continents of Amer ica, as commonly supposed. Instance of the great Mastodon in England. Form of the Tusks of the Mastodon. — Erroneous Ideas on this subject. - - 9S Chap. XIII. — Human Fossil Remains. Why they can not be so numerous as those of other Animals. Lime- CONTENTS. stone Caves and Fissures. An Example in the Cave of Gaylenreuth, with its Fossil Contents. Dr. Buck- land's Theory of Caves and Fissures. Human Fos sils found at Guadaloupe. Also at Durfort. Great Fossil Deposits in Spain, containing Human bones. — Quarries at Kostritz, containing Human Bones. Natural Conclusions from the above Account. Dr. Buckland's Conclusion respecting Kostritz incon sistent with other parts of his theory. Caves and Fissures in Lime-stone. General spread of Diluvial Effects. 101 Chap. XIV. — On the Situation of Paradise ; together with Critical and Geological Evidences ofthe spurious character of that descriptive account of it, found in all modern copies and translations of the Book of Genesis. 109 Chap. XV — On the creation of mankind. The Origin of Language. What was the Primitive Language 1 High Probability in favour of Hebrew. On the Diver sity of Colour among Mankind. Testimony of the Jews on this Subject. Origin of the American Indi ans. Their Traditions and Customs. Their Religious Belief. Religious Rites in the Interior of Africa. On Sacrifice. Traditions and Beliefs in the Friendly Is lands. Historical Evidence of a common descent from Noah. On the identity of words among the most distant Nations. On the universal use of a Deci mal Gradation. Natural Inference from all these Con siderations. -------- Conclusions to which we are naturally led by the general tenour of the foregoing inquiry. - - - - - 111 116 LECTURES ON PORTIONS OF THE PSALMS. Lect. I. — Psalm v. 1 — 8. - Lect. II Psalm v. 8 — end. Lect. III. — Psalm xv. Lect. IV. — Psalm xvi. 1 — 3. Lect. V. — Psalm xvi. 4 — 7. Lect. VI. — Psalm xvi. 8 — end. - 118 Lect. VII. — Psalm xxxiii. 1 — 7<- - 121 Lect. VIII Psalm xliii. - - 124 Lect. IX. — Psalm lxxxiv. 8 — end. - 129 Lect. X. — Psalm cxvi. 1 — 9. - 132 Lect. XI. — Psalm cxvi. 10 — end. - 134 Lect. XII. — Psalm iii. - 138 - 143 - 146 - 149 - 152 - 154 A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. Chap. I The Views which Infidels have entertained re specting the moral character of God. Chap. II. — Though Infidels profess to hold the doctrine of the Divine Existence, yet they refuse or neglect all religious worship. ------- Chap. III. — A brief survey of the character of that mo rality which Infidelity inculcates and displays. Chap. IV — The practical effects of Infidelity. Chap. V. — A contrasted view of Infidelity and Chrifsti- anity. --------- Chap. VI. — An affectionate appeal to those who have been entangled in the snares of Infidelity. SECOND PART. THE TRUTH AND EXCELLENCE OP CHRISTIANITY. Chap. I. — The comparative credit due to the conclusions of Sceptics and Christians. ----- 165 - 161 ib. 162 ib. 163164 Chap. II Showing that the evidence of Christianity is of such a nature that it admits of being brought home individually, with convincing power, to every man's bosom. --------- 166 Chap. Ill Containing a brief survey of those branches of evidence which it is proper to urge upon the atten tion of those who have not as yet yielded up their minds to the divine authority and transforming power of the Gospel -.167 Chap. IV. — On the Transmission of the Sacred Books. 183 Chap. V. — On the Inspiration of the Holy Scrip tures. --------- 185 Chap. VI — Some popular objections to the full Inspira tion of the Holy Scriptures. ----- 188 Conclusion. -..-.... lgg A MEMOIR OF MISS MARY JANE GRAHAM. Chap. I.— Her Early Life. 190 Chap. II. — Her Relapse into Infidelity. - - - 192 Chap. III. — General sketch of Miss Graham's life; her views of study; extensive attainments; and active devotedness to God. - - - - - -194 Chap. IV. — Further Extracts from her Writings and Correspondence. --..... 202 Chap. V. — Different views and features in Miss Gra ham's character. ------- 236 Chap. VI. — Her illness and death 243 Chap. VII. — Remarks. ------ 248 THE PERSONALITY AND OFFICE OF THE CHRISTIAN COMFORTER. Lect. I. — Interesting nature of the proposed Inquiry. The promise of the Comforter when given. — Great ness of the loss which his coming was to repair. An accurate comprehension of the meaning of the Pro mise, why necessary. Writers by whom the subject has been already treated. Clagitt. — Ridley. — Owen. — Warburton. 252 The discussion of Religious Mysteries necessary and advan tageous. Christian Morality derives its sanction from Chris tian doctrine. No revealed truth unimportant. Such inquiries not dangerous to the general interests of Christianity. Folly and danger of dissembling our Faith. A due consideration of the Christian Myste ries how useful. Evils incident to Controversy : — not peculiar to Religious Controversy : — how best to be avoided. - - - - Threefold Division of the subject of these Lectures. 1. Nature of the promised Comforter. 2. Persons for whose comfort and protection he was to come. 3. Benefits which they were to receive from him. I. Inquiry into the Nature of the Comforter. Impostors who have assumed his name — Manes — Montanus — Mohammed. The Comforter the same 254 - 257 with the Holy Ghost. Doctrine of the Church "con cerning his Personality, Divinity, and Union with the Father and the Son. - - - - - - 257 Lect. II. — T7i,e Personality ofthe Comforter shown from our Saviour's expressions concerning him. Actions and properties ascribed to the Holy Ghost or Comforter. Such actions and properties cannot properly be ascribed to a Virtue, Operation or Quality. Qualities, Influences, Powers, &c. what. Accidents only predicable of a real existence Material or Spirit ual. The Holy Ghost not a Material Substance. - 257 The expressions of our Saviour concerning the Comforter not allegorical or figurative. In all expressions not professedly parabolical, the literal interpretation most probable. Inconsistency of the Socinians in preferring the allegorical interpreta tion. Motives by whioh men are led to the use of Al legory or Metaphor : — did not apply to the discourse now under examination. Nor have our Lord's words any of the distinctive marks by which figurative ex pressions are distinguished from those which are to be taken literally. ~W herein those marks consist. The Personification of an abstract quality not proper or in telligible, under any other name than that which con ventionally stands for it ; — much less under a name al- CONTENTS. ready appropriated to a real agent. Meaning of the term " Spirit." No reason to apprehend that our Lord used the term in compliance with popular superstition. Nor that the term " Holy Spirit," was employed by the Jews in a figurative meaning to express Inspira tion. The testimonies of Jerome and Maimonides to this effect not conclusive. Jerome has misrepresented Lactantius. Maimonides frequently at variance with the usual opinions of the Synagogue. The ancient Jews regarded the Holy Spirit as a Person. This fact sufficient for the present argument, though their knowledge of his Nature and Functions might be im perfect - ... 258 The expressions in question further shown not to be atlegorical, from the general consent of Christians, and more particularly of the primitive Church. Force of this argument. Reasonableness of that de ference which is paid to the opinions of the primitive Church. Those opinions favourable to the Orthodox cause. --..-... 261 The Ancient Christian Writers not incompetent evidence. Those Writers not cited for their merit as writers or commentators, but as contemporary witnesses to the faith of the Ancient Church. Their competency to this point. - ... 261 The Orthodox Opinions not first introduced into the Church in the Second Century after Christ. Those doctrines found in the writings of the Apos tolic Fathers. Testimonies to the Personality of God's Spirit in Hermas, — Clemens, — Ignatius, — Polycarp. The Doxology how ancient. Canticle called the Epi- lychnia, popular with the lower ranks of Christians. Tertullian and Justin do not favour the notion that the Doctrine of the Trinity was in their time recently in troduced. Testimonies of Justin and Irenaeus to the universal faith of the Church. - 262 Lect. III. — The Orthodox Opinions not derived from the Platonists. The Platonizing Christians why conspicuous in Ec clesiastical History. Their influence with the general body of Christians not great. The Platonists in gen eral hostile to Christianity, and why. Their leading doctrines strongly opposed to the Orthodox faith. Be lief in Two Principles. Utter Impurity of Matter. The Creator of the World how esteemed by them. Their objections to the Orthodox Faith in the Incarna tion of the Godhead, and the Resurrection of the Body. Porphyry. Apollonius of Tyana. Ammonius. Ju lian the Apostate. Synesius. Platonizing Christians either Heretics or suspected of Heresy. The Platonic Trinity not a conspicuous part of the doctrine of the Academy. Its resemblance to the Christian Trinity imperfect. . Yet, from this resemblance an argument may be drawn against the Unitarians. ... 264 The Orthodox Opinions derived from the Apostles themsehm. The Ancient Fathers appeal to Apostolic Traditiopw and Authority. Necessary inferences from such an appeal. The Orthodox regarded Apostles as the foun ders of their Sect. This could not have been the case if so important a doctrine as the Trinity had been in troduced into the Church by any other person in op position to the authority of the Apostles when alive, or their known sentiments when dead. Nor can we allow that such an innovation can have been introduced under colour of receiving the genuine opinions of the Apostles, — for no such pretended loss and revival of the faith is noticed by any of the Fathers. If such a revolution in the religious opinions ofthe Church had taken place, its author must have held a high place in Ecclesiastical History. No such person is known to have existed. Such a change cannot have taken place unobserved. It, therefore, never took place at all. 266 Resumption ofthe Argument from the general consent of Chris tians. The Orthodox Believers composed a Majority of the primitive Christians. The Personality of God's Spi rit not held by the Orthodox only, but by the great body of Christians however otherwise divided. The Mani- chees. — The Ariatis. — The Mohammedans. — The Gnostics. — The Ebionites. — The Nazarenes. To this general consent, the Sabellians and Socinians the only known exceptions. ------ 267 The Spirit of God, how spoken of in other parts of Scripture. Examination of those passages where He is said to be given, quenched, &e. Those passages obviously figu rative, whether on our principles or those of the Socin ians. The persona efficiens may be put for the res effecta. Expressions ofthe same kind applied to those whose personal existence is uncontrovertible. The Holy Ghost proved to be a Person on the same grounds with those on which we believe the Personality of God the Father. The various metaphorical names ap plied to the Holy Ghost, no presumption against his Personality. Supposed Identity of the Holy Ghost and the Jewish Schekinah an argument in favour of this doctrine. ------- 267 Socinian and Sabellian Notions compared. If the Holy Ghost be an attribute or operation, he must be an attribute or operation of God the Father. Whatever is figuratively predicated of an accident is really predicated of the Person or Substance in which that accident is inherent. The Divinity of the Holy Ghost in what sense maintained by the Socinians and Sabellians. The Holy Ghost incidentally proved to be God. But cannot be identified with God the Fa ther. Inconsistency of the Socinians in admitting part of the Sabellian System and rejecting the remain der. 1 Cor. ii. 11, examined and explained. Con clusive against the Arian System but not against the Homoousian. Ancient opinion of two Souls in Man. Contradictions and absurdities of the Sabellian Hy pothesis. ----- - - 269 Conclusion ofthe Argument in favour ofthe Spirit's Personality. Motives by which a Christian is actuated in expos ing the errors of his Religious opponents. Exhorta tion to the study of Scripture. Doctrines now to be tried. Practical nature of the Truths contended for by the Orthodox. Melancholy effect of the Socinian Tenets. 271 Lect. IV. — Consequences incidentally deducible from the Per sonality and Deity of the Holy Ghost. The Doctrine of a Trinity in Unity necessary to re concile Scripture with itself. That Doctrine not more above reason than many acknowledged truths in Nat ural Philosophy and Natural Religion. No objection to its truth that it is rather deducible from different passages of Scripture than expressly revealed in any. This is the case with many other of the most import- **-. ant Doctrines in the Old and New Testaments, and corresponds with the general analogy of God's provi dence. The indirect species of proof less liable to objection than the positive. ----- 271 II. Inquiry into the Persons to whom and for whose advantage the Comforter was promised. The Comforter not promised to the Apostles only, but to all generations of Believers. The Comforter was to abide for ever with those to whom he was sent. The office of God's Spirit in this capacity has relation to this world only. - - - 273 III. Inquiry into the nature of those peculiar benefits which Christians were to receive from the Comforter. Preliminary investigation of the part which the Holy Ghost sustained under the Patriarchal and Mosaic Dispensations. Reasons for such an investigation. Difficulty of carrying it on so far as concerns the earliest ages of the world. Proofs of the Trinity from the word Elohim, &c. uncertain and dangerous. The "Spirit of God," Gen. i. 2, not a material wind. Uncertain whether the Third or the Second Person of the God head be intended by it. The name of Spirit applied to both. Presumption which this circumstance*affords against Socinianism. Opinion of the Ancient Fathers that the Son of God, on certain occasions, appeared to the Patriarchs and Prophets. That opinion not in consistent with the supposed intercourse of God's Spirit with mankind during the same periods of Sa cred History. Distinction between the Persons of the Godhead implied, iu the Old Testament. The name and functions of the Holy Ghost well known to the Jews before the; time of our Saviour. Angels by whom the Law was given. The Holy Spirit intended by CONTENTS. the Rabbinical Schekinah. Application of these cir cumstances to the explanation of several obscure pas sages in Scripture. Vision seen by Daniel on the Banks of Hiddekel. Not a created Angel — nor God the Son. Michael one of the names by which God the Son is distinguished in Scripture. Erroneous opin ion that nations are subject to Angel Governors, and that these Governors have wars with each other. The Holy Ghost the ruling and supporting Providence of the world. Grounds for supposing that the Angel Ga briel and the Holy Ghost are the same Divine Person. Meaning of the name Gabriel. Christ's Mortal Body, how quickened by the Spirit, These opinions sug gested only as probable speculations. If true, may illustrate, if false, cannot weaken the other proofs of the Trinity and Atonement. 273 Lect. V — Inquiry resumed. The Benefits conferred by the Holy Ghost in his capacity of Comforter conferred on Chris tians only. The Spirit of God our peculiar Comforter. The pro mise of his coming made to Christians only. - -278 Those Benefits were some of which the Disciples themselves were not in previous possession. The terms of visitation and mission figurative only as applied to God. Yet denotes some new manifesta tion of his power or goodness. The coming of the Paraclete a compensation for the departure of Christ. A compensation what. 278 Correspondence between the Miraculous displays of God's poiver at the time when the Law of Moses was given, and those which distinguished the publication of the Gospel. The Schekinah. The day of Pentecost. Moses. St. Stephen. St. Paul in Paradise. Prophecy. 279 Yet the gift of Miraculous Powers was not that definite blessing which the Holy Ghost was to dispense as Paraclete. That blessing promised to all generations. But Miracles have ceased. No sufficient answer to this objection, — that Miracles have become unnecessary. That answer disputable in point of fact. Miracles of rare occurrence, why. Nor, though supernatural aids may have become less necessary than formerly, would this change in the circumstances of the recipient ac quit the promiser of his engagement. Circumstances have not materially changed with the Church in those particulars on account of which the Comforter was especially promised. --.... 379 Nor is the promised protection of the Comforter fulfilled by the grace which he dispenses through the Sacraments, and the per petuation of an Apostolic Ministry. Because the promise in question is something more definite than a general assurance of help and comfort. And its terms are such as suit neither of these opera tions of the Holy Ghost. The Paraclete was to guide us into all truth, &c. These particulars do not accord with the Sacramental Graces nor the Grace of Ordi nation. Nor were the Sacraments and Ordination new privileges conferred on the Church in consequence of the Paraclete's coming. These rites not unknown to the Ancient Jews. And all instituted in the Christian Church by the Messiah before his departure. The in stitutions in question are more blessed and efficacious as means of grace to the Christian than to the Jew, — but the source of this difference still remains to be sought after. 380 Nor by the protection of the Holy Ghost, in temporal matters and as ruling Providence of the World. The departure of Christ not compensated for by the mere continuance of that protection which the Apos tles had, before, in more ample measure, received. — The terms of our Lord's promise Jiave no reference to a temporal guardianship. ----- 281 Inquiry into the necessity and reality of the ordinary and sanc tifying influence of God's Spirit. That influence denied by modern Socinians. Sup posed by us to consist in the immediate agency of God's Spirit on the Soul. How distinguished from the inspiration of supernatural knowledge and power. Possibility of such an intercourse. Its necessity. — Objections of the Unitarians considered. God's gen eral Providence a succession of parlicularinterferences. The interference of the Spirit may extend through a ve ry wide range of our thoughts and actions. Natural and peculiar difficulties attendant on fhe practice of virtue, The inclination of man to do evil. Our human reso lution why insufficient to overcome this propensity. Religious motives- for self-control often less powerful than worldly motives, why. Those motives more dis tant and not the objects of sense. The objects of worldly prudence demand fewer sacrifices at our hands. Self-government required in a Christian. The gift of sanctifying grace proveable from Scripture. The opinions of Augustine ,and Calvin on this subject an abuse of the Doctrine in question. How far those opinions resemble the Fatalism of Socinians. Scrip tural testimonies to the reality and necessity of God's sanctifying Grace. The gifts of Holiness and Peace distinct from that of Miraculous Power, yet both as cribed to God's Spirit. Conclusion. - - - 281 Lect. VI. — The ordinary and sanctifying Grace of Godnot the peculiar blessing which the Comforter, as such, was to bestow on Christians. Nature and extent of God's sanctifying Grace, ex plained. Communicates no new idea to the Soul, but enables us to profit by those which we, by other means, acquire. Acts by the illustration not the revelation of truth. Cannot, therefore, be said to teach all things or show us things to come. Given to others besides Christians. Contradictions involved in the contrary opinion. No man can believe unless through grace both preventing and furthering. Therefore grace must have been given to those who were not yet believers. This difirculty how avoided by the Calvinists. Con sequences resulting from their system. How softened by Owen. Inconsequence of his reasoning. Grace given, through Christ's merits, to the Patriarchs and ancient Jews, — and to the Heathen. Degree of Divine knowledge on which a justifying faith may be found ed, shown from Hebr. xi. 6. This degree of know ledge possessed by some among the Heathen. Proved from the Heathen Writers and from St. Paul. And from the virtues of some among the Heathen. Thpse virtues did not, all of them, proceed from impure or worldly motives. Sacrifices and Devotions of the Heathen, some of them offered to the true God. The institution of Sacrifice derived from the ancient Patri archs. Sacrifices might bring down a blessing on those who understood not the meaning of their ap pointment. Difference between a Type and a Sacra ment. The extension of God's sanctifying Grace to the Heathen does not detract from the efficacy of Sa cramental Ordinances. A due use of those Ordinances necessary and appointed means of Grace to all Chris tians. Analogy between Sacramental observances and prayer. Defence of Infant Baptism. The Sacra ments only necessary to those by whom their obli gation is known. Spiritual regeneration sometimes given by God without, or previous to its outward sign in Baptism. But through Grace may be given to the Heathen, this does not lessen the danger arising from a perverse refusal ofthe Gospel. Error of all Kinds, even when conscientious, a great misfortune. The Grace given to Christians of greater efficacy than that which the Heathen may hope for, and why. Motives for labouring for their conversion. And for gratitude for our own knowledge ofthe Gospel. - - 285 Corollaries which follow from the above statement. 1. The op posite systems of Pelagius and Calvin arc alike disproved. All the good actions of men referred to God's Grace. Scriptural meaning of the term " Election." Equal degrees of Grace not given to all. Yet no capable subject absolutely excluded from it. ... 291 2, Grace may be resisted and rendered vain. Fallacy of the Doctrine of Assurance. No man punished but for neglect of Grace. Men may fall from Grace received. Our own feelings, on Ihe subject of Assurance, may be mistaken by us. Difference between the absence of doubt and the sensa tion of perfect confidence. The Doctrine of Predesti nation opposed by our natural instincts. - - 292 Lect. VII. — The Holy Ghost has established his Title to the character of Paraclete by ihe Revelations which he made to the Apostles. Tho Son of God the object, yet more than the leacher of the Christian Faith : — Proved by the ignorance dis played by the Apostles, anterior lo the coming of the Paraclete, as to the nature of Christ's "kingdom and the reason cf his sufferings. That ignorance not to be CONTENTS. imputed to natural incapacity or natural prejudice, but to the fact that the time was not come when the designs of God were to he made plain. The doctrines of Atonement for Sin, and the supercession of the Mosaic Law, not clearly expressed by Christ himself, and only to be found in the teaching of God's Spirit through the Apostles. ------ 292 The Discovery of the Christian Covenant of Pardon and Grace, a sufficient comfort and compensation to Christ' s followers for his departure from the World. Enumeration of the advantages to which the eyes of the Apostles were thus first opened. Effect of these discoveries on their conduct and character. - - 293 The Discovery of that Covenant a necessary and sufficient vindica tion of Christ's character from the objections of the Jews. The Spirit of God, in his capacity of Paraclete, was to testify of the Messiah's truth, — to convict the world of the guilt they had incurred in rejecting him, &c. Objections urged by the Jews against the truth of our Lord's pretensions to the character of the Messiah. Those objections not sufficiently answered by the blamelessness of his Life or the greatness of his Mir acles. Jewish Treatise called the Nizacchon. Suffi ciently answered by the discovery of the nature of that Salvation which Christ wrought for us, and of the means by which it was to be accomplished. The Unitarian system of Theology takes away the only competent answer to the Objections urged by the Jews ; — and all adequate motives for the prophecies and miracles by which our Lord's birth, life,'and death were distinguished. A Revelation from God may be expected to contain discoveries transcending human reason. --------- 293 By his Revelations made to the Apostles the Paraclete instructed the Church in " things to come." Our Lord himself rarely assumed the prophetic cha racter. Our knowledge of the rise and fall of Anti- Christ, — of the events which are to take place in the last days, &c. all derived from the Holy Ghost through the Apostles. 294 Answer to the Objection that, since the time of the Apostles, no fresh revelation of God's will has been made to the Church. The promise of our Lord implies the universal and continual superintendence and perfection of the Para clete, but not that he should be perpetually guiding us into new truths. The inspiration accorded to the Apostles and the elder Prophets not continual or universal. The length of the intervals between the Revelations made to them immaterial. Intervals of the same kind and of very considerable length, oc curred in the history of the Jewish Church. The Bath-Col a Rabbinical Fable. Yet God still dwelt in his Temple (Matt, xxiii. 21.) though he had ceased, in a perceptible and miraculous manner, to declare his will from thence, — and, therefore, the Comforter may still be present with the Church, though no case has latterly arisen to demand a new Revelation. - 294 But, further, the Comforter has, in every age, continued to teach the Church by the Scriptures of the New Testament. , A knowledge of Divine Things being given to the- Church, — the manner in which this knowledge is com municated is a matter of indifference. All Revelations made to a few that the many might, through their means, be benefited. Immediate Inspiration not ac corded to the majority of Christians in the Apostolic Age. This dispensation not unequal nor disadvan tageous to the majority. The abode of the Paraclete among men would have been sufficiently proved by a succession of one or more inspired individuals by whose instruction the Holy Ghost should govern the Church. No difference whether this instruction were oral or epistolary. Nor whether their authors were absent or dead. Therefore, so long as the writings of a deceased Apostle govern the Church, the Holy Ghost who dictated those writings, continues to govern it by them. The Scriptures not only dictated by the Inspiration of the Holy Ghost, but preserved to our time and offered to our notice by his Providence. This particu lar exertion of his Providence how distinguished from his general care. By the peculiar dispensation in question, the rites which our Saviour appointed before the Paraclete's coming, and the dispensations of the Spirit's mercy and power which we share with other ages and nations, have become more blessed and val uable to the Chistian than to the rest of the world. But it is through Scripture only that the character of these dispensations is thus altered. And by Scripture alone that the Holy Ghost now guides us into truth, or shows us things to come, or pleads the cause of Christ against his enemies. It is, then, as Dispenser of Supernatural Truth and Teacher of the Doctrine of Redemption, that the Holy Ghost sustains his charac ter of Comforter. And this truth he now conveys to us through the Holy Scripture. - 295 The Inspired Authority of the New Testament asserted, — ¦ 1st, Prom the Personal Inspiration of its reputed Authors. Their Inspiration proved by the miracles which they performed. The reality of those miracles admitted by the ancient enemies of Christianity — Celsus — Julian — the Toldos Jeschu. No want of ability or inclination in the contemporaries of the Apostles to detect any false pretences to miraculous power. The reality of the works in question rendered probable by the sensa tion which they excited in the Heathen World. Na ture of the change which they produced in the habits and pretensions of those who continued hostile to Christianity. Their reality further shown from the internal evidence to this effect offered by the Apostolic Writings. St. Paul speaks of miracles not only as wrought by himself, but by those to whom his Epis tles are addressed. Force of this argument. The Apos tolic Epistles not addressed in the first instance to the Heathen, or even to the Church at large. Devoid of empirical ostentation. - - 297 2. The New Testament is the genuine Work of the Writers whose name it bears. Proved from internal Evidence — from universal Tra dition — from the reluctance with which Christians in every age have admitted any works into their sacred canon, — from the excellence ofthe works themselves, as contrasted with the spurious productions which have been, at different times, offered to the Church, — and with the acknowledged compositions of the unin spired contemporaries of the Apostles, - - 298 Lect. VIII. — Preliminary Observations. The entire New Testament the work of the Apos tles or their accredited amanuenses. The Gospels of Mark, and Luke, sometimes called those of St. Peter and St. Paul. Distinction made by the primitive Church between the Canonical writings and those of the Apostolic Fathers. The claims of those writings called avriXiyi/Aiva., always placed on the ground of their being the genuine works of the Apostles only. But, though all the works of the New Testament pro ceed from Inspired Persons, — it might still be ques tioned whether their Authors were Inspired at the time. Inspiration not a perpetual and pervading gift. Difficulties urged against the inspired Authority claim ed by the New Testament. - - . - - - 298 Probability that some of the writings of the Apostles should be inspired, shown, — 1st, From the necessity of the case. Written documents absolutely necessary to the ex tension and perpetuity of Religious Truth. No rule of faith or practice can be absolute and definitve unless in spired. Nor unless the person who delivered it were inspired at that time and to that effect. Inconvenien ces of renouncing the plenary inspiration of Scripture; or of confining, with Simon and Warburton, the inspi ration of the Sacred Writers to a few conspicuous truths. 299 2. From the Analogy ofthe Mosaic Dispensation. Certain Written Laws were given by inspiration tp the Jewish Church. But the advantage which was given to the less perfect dispensation would not be withheld from the heirs of the promise to whom it was equally necessary. Nature of this necessity further explained. The leading Facts on which our Faith is founded, might be believed on historic evidence only. — But the practical results which follow from those facts, as explained in Scripture, must be received on the authority of Revelation, or rest on no firm ground whatever. --....-. 300 3. From the fact that the Oral Doctrine of the Apostles un»j, in certain cases, inspired. This fact established from the promises of Christ, (Mark xiii. 11. Luke xii. 2.) But if the discourses which only extended to a few were thus privileged, we may much more suppose the like assistance given in works where all ages were concerned. - - - 301 CONTENTS. The particular Treatises which made up ihe New Testament, shown to be inspired. By internal evidence. By Tradition. By the claims advanced in their favour by the Apostles them selves. 1 Cor. vii. 25. 1 Cor. xiv. 37. 2 Cor. v. 20. 2 Pet. iii. 16. Rev. ii. 29. Answer to the ob jection of Spinoza, " that the Apostles themselves lay no claim to inspiration." The Superscription " Apos tle of Christ," in itself implies inspiration. Answer to another objection of Spinoza, taken from 1 Cor. vii. 25, 26. How answered by Horbery. That Text in reality a strong proof of the general inspiration of St. Paul's writings. Spinoza's Third Objection taken from the fact that the Apostles reason and persuade instead of commanding. Not well answered by Si mon. God may, without impeachment of his Power andr Majesty, use persuasion with his creatures. Ex emplified from the Old Testament. - - - - 301 Answer to the Objections levelled against the style and matter of the New Testament. Necessity of such an answer. All manifestations of God's will, being appeals to the judgment or senses of his creatures, in themselves challenge investigation. 302 Answer to the Objection of the Romanists that the Scriptures are, in themselves, insufficient as a Rule of Faith. Presumption of requiring an additional guide. The ancient Synagogue and the primitive Church made no such claims as those advanced by a Romanist. The Anathema, what. No remedy provided by Moses for those to whose instruction his writings did not suffice. St. Peter's conduct with regard to the obscure passa ges in St. Paul. An infallible interpreter of Scripture, a futile expectation — and unnecessary. The Faith of Christians built on Scripture only. By the Scripture the Holy Ghost performs all the Functions of the promised Comforter. Conclusion. - - - -305 HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION IN SPAIN. Chap. I. — Review of the Ecclesiastical History of Spain Chap. V. — Causes ofthe progress of the Reformed Doc- before the era of the Reformation. - - - - 308 trme ln Spain. -------- 330 Chap. II. — On the state of Literature in Spain before the Chap. VI — Progress of the Reformation in Spain. - 334 era of the Reformation. ------ 314 Chap. VII. — Suppression of the Reformation in Spain. - 338 Chap. III.— Of the Inquisition, and other obstacles to the Chap. VIII Protestant Exiles from Spain. - -354 Reformation in Spain. ----- -317 Chap. IX. — Effects which the Suppression of the Refor- Chap. IV. — Introduction of the Reformed Doctrine mation produced on Spain. ----- 357 into Spain. -- 324 FANATICISM. Sect. I.— Motives of the Work. 362 Sect. V.— Fanaticism of the Scourge. - - - 375 Sect. II. — The Meaning of Terms — Rise of the Malign Supplementary Note. 383 ¦ Emotions. - - 365 Sect. VI Fanaticism of the Brand. - - - -384 Sect. III. — Alliance of the Malign Emotions with the Sect. VII. — Fanaticism of the Banner. - - - 395 Imagination. -- 370 Sect. VIII Fanaticism of the Symbol. - - 407 Sect. IV. — Fanaticism the Offspring of Enthusiasm; Sect. IX. — The Religion of the Bible not Fanatical. - 419 or Combination of the Malign Emotions with Spuri- Sect. X The Religion ofthe Bible not Fanatical. - 427 ous Religious Sentiments. ----- 372 HISTORY OF THE CRUSADES AGAINST THE ALBIGENSES, IN THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY. Chap. I— First Crusade, from 1207 to 1209. - - 440 Chap. II.— Continuation of the Crusade against the Al- bigenses, to the Battle of Muret, 1210—1213. - - 447 Chap. III. — Submission of the Albigenses — Revolt and New War to the Death of Simon de Montfort, 1214 —1218 454 Chap. IV. — Crusade of the French against the Albi genses, from the Death of Simon de Monfort to the Death of Louis VIII, 1218— 1226. - - - -458 Chap. V. — Affairs of the Albigenses from the Death of Louis VIII, 1226, to the Peace of Paris, 1229 ; and its final ratification, 1242. ----- 467 THE LIFE OF BISHOP WILSON. Chap. I. — Introduction — His Early Life. Chap. II. — His Conduct as a Bishop. - Chap. Ill — His Domestic Character. - Chap. IV. — His Sunday. - - - Chap. V. — In his Closet. - - - - 477 - 480 - 485 - 488 - 419 Chap. VI. — His Beneficence. ----- 490 Chap. VII. — His old age, and latter days. - - - 492 Appendix, Containing a few Passages from Bishop Wil son's Papers, Illustrative of the Preceding Memoirs. - 494 SERMONS BY THE RIGHT REV. JOSEPH BUTLER, D. C. L. Sermon I.— Upon Human Nature. .... 502 Sermon II. III. — Upon Human Nature. ... 505 Sermon IV. — Upon the Government ofthe Tongue. - 509 Sermon V. — Upon Compassion. ----- 511 Sermon VI. — Upon Compassion. ... - 514 Sermon VII. — Upon the Character of Balaam. - - 516 Sermon VIII. — Upon Resentment. ... - 518 Sermon IX. — Upon Forgiveness of Injuries. - - 520 Sermon X. — Upon Self-Deceit. ----- 523 Sermon XI. — Upon the Love of our Neighbour. - - 526 Sermon XII. — Upon the Love of our Neighbour. - - 529 Sermon XIII. XIV.— Upon the Love of God. - - 532 Sermon XIV 534 Sermon XV. — Upon the Ignorance of Man. - - 537 Correspondence between Dr. Butler and Dr. Clarke. - 539 SERMONS BY THE LATE REV. ROBERT HALL, A.M., OF KELSO. Sermon I. — The Gospel a light to the Gentiles, and a salvation unto the end of the earth. - 545 Qualifications of a Minister stated. - - . . 549 Sermon II. — The security of the Church in its relation to God. 551 Sermon III. — Christ, our High Priest. - . - 553 Sermon IV. — The Advent of Christ. - - - - 556 Sermon V.— The Obedience of Christ. - - - 560 Sermon VI — The Necessity of Christian Fruitfulness. - 562 Sermon VII — The Desire of Life ; a New Year's Dis course. ------- 564 THE CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. BY STEPHEN H. TYNG, D. D. rector of st. Paul's church, Philadelphia. INTRODUCTION. The Editor ofthe Christian Library, in pursuance ofhisplanof furnishing occasionally original productions of American wri ters for the Library, applied to the author ofthe following Lec tures for some assistance towards that object. These Lectures were prepared and delivered in the regular discharge of pastoral duty, to the congregation of St. Paul's church, in the autumn of 1831. The author had no thought of their publication; and though it has been often suggested to him, he has heretofore declined it altogether. The opinion of others has been, that they could be made useful in a larger distribution, and he has yielded now to this opinion. There is hut little room for originality in such Lectures as these. All authors within the writer's reach have been consulted, and very freely used. From Bishop Reynolds, Bishop Hopkins, Dr. J. Edwards, Dr. Dwight and the Rev. C. Simeon, many of the thoughts here presented have been obtained. The latter writer espe cially, in his university sermons, which have never been republished in this country, so accorded with the views of the author of these Lectures, in his statements upon subjects on which they treated in common, that he has not hesi tated to embody large portions of his excellent argument in these discourses. These Lectures exhibit, however, the a.u- thor's plan of preaching, and the truth as he receives it from the Scriptures. If they can he made useful to others, the object of their publication will be fully answered. At any rate, in reference to a large portion of the clergy and members of the Protestant Episcopal church, it may be said, " So we preach, and so they believed." S. H. T. Philadelphia, October 9, 1832. Vol. II— A LECTURE I. THE IMPORTANCE OV A KNOWLEDGE OF THE DIVINE LAW. Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law. — Psalm cxix. 18. No subject connected with religion is probably estimated by Christians, and enforced from the pulpit, in such inadequate proportion to its real importance, as the divine law. By some it is considered a subject in which all are sufficiently instructed. By others, it is spoken of as a matter which be longs not to gospel preaching; and most men pass over the study of its principles and requisitions with carelessness and unconcern. The view which the Psalmist entertained of this matter, is well displayed in the devout solicitude with which he speaks of the law in almost every verse of the Psalm from which our text is taken. The extent to which he regarded the spirituality of its precepts, the fervour with which he desired that they might be engraven upon his heart, the sorrow which he experienced in witnessing its violation, the ardour with which he longed to understand its perfections, all unite to show that he considered a knowledge and reverence for the holy law of God of vital importance to the redeemed and enlightened soul. In this Psalm he employs several different words to designate the law. They all have reference to that connected system of divine revelations which are found in the Scriptures; and whether the national law of the Jews, consisting of ceremonies and judgments proper for their cir cumstances be considered, or the great moral law of God, which has an universal obligation in heaven and on earth, there are contained in each, wondrous things, the understand ing of which will well repay the labour of study, and reasona bly forms the subject of prayer. A proper knowledge of the divine law lies at the foundation of all true religion. It opens the only way for understanding and receiving the gospel of Jesus Christ. No man can gain a true knowledge, or an adequate appreciation of the un searchable riches of redeeming grace, who does not make use ofthe law, as his schoolmaster to bring him unto Christ. It is therefore of incalculable importance, that we attain right CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. views of the matter before us, and learn to exercise right affections in reference to its demands. _' '^TSpen thou mine eyes," is the prayer of David. TheTe is; in our natural ignorance and sinfulness, a thick veil drawn over our understandings, which utterly prohibits the admiss ion of the truth of Godi"' We confine our views of his precepts entirely to the letter of them, and deny the extent of their demands upon •the inner man. We look upon the institutions and ceremonies appointed by him, according to the flesh, and see_ nothing in them but unmeaning and unnecessary rites. This veil, God's Holy Spirit alone can remove. He must deliver tis from the blindness of our minds, and show us the unsearchable wisdom, knowledge; and love, which are to be unfolded in all the revelations and dispensations of God. To him, therefore, must our prayer be made, for illumination in his ways, and for a proper knowledge of his holy will. " Open thou mine eyes ;" take away the veil that covers my heart, that I may look deeply into thy sacred revelations ; and passing beyond the letter of thy word, may see the spiritual instructions which are every where contained. In the Sabbath, let me see an eternal rest; in unleavened bread, the simplicity of the gospel truth; in every victim bound for the altar, let me behold the obedience required from me? and in every things let me find Christ revealed to my soul, and accepted anew, for my soul's comfort. The prayer of David extended thus, to all the wonderful things which were covered either under the letter of moral precepts, or under the types of legal ceremonies. My present subject leads me to dismiss the view of the ceremonial law, interesting as its considera tion would be, and to confine my remarks altogether to the moral law of God, all the commandments of which are holy, just and good, more to be desired than gold, yea, than much fine sold, sweeter also than honey and the honey-comb, by which the servant of God is warned, and in keeping of which there is great reward. To the understanding of this law I turn the petition of my text; and to display the importance of understanding it, I shall attempt to show some of**the wonderful things which are contained in it. I have said that a correct understanding of the moral law of God forms the foundation of all true religion. It will be now my object to show, that upon a. proper knowledge of this law rest all just views of religious truth; all proper feel ings of the religious character, and all scriptural and well- founded hopes of religious blessings. That which is called the ceremonial and judicial law of the Old Testament, was peculiarly the national law of the Israelites. It was 'communicated through the mediation of Moses to them, as a distinct people on the earth ; and was intended, in all its precepts and requirements, to lead their minds to believe on him, who was afterwards to come as the Saviour of the world ; and by showing them in experience, the utter impossibility of attaining an acceptable righteous ness by their own obedience, to shut them up to the accept ance of the free and everlasting righteousness which should be offered them in Jesus Christ. The moral law, which was embodied in this national law of the Israelites, was not more obligatory upon them than upon all other men; nay, upon all other accountable creatures. The moral law is a simple revelation of the will, and a perfect transcript of the character of God. It is the law by which angels are governed in heaven. It is the law by which man was to he governed and justified in Paradise. Supreme love to God, and universal benevolence to his creatures, is the fulfilling of this law. This law was violated by man ; and its character and operation, as a covenant of life, was thus destroyed for man forever. From that moment, right eousness was never to be obtained by man's personal obe dience to the law. But the law itself, as the divine rule, and the revelation of the divine will to man, was unaffected. Its claims are still the same, though the possibility of perfect personal obedience has been destroyed by sin. Its authority and demands upon men are entirely unchanged. What this law demanded of Adam, it demands of every human being. But what it promised Adam, because it was possible for him to attain it, it promises no longer, from the utter impossibility that its demands should ever be personally fulfilled by any sinner. To this holy and perfect law, our attention is now di rected ; and from a proper understanding of it, are to be derived, I. All just views of religious truth. 1. Upon our knowledge of the divine law depend all -just views of the perfections of God. Here alone can we gain an adequate conception of the holiness of his character. We know nothing of God, but what he has revealed of himself;; and in his own revelations we behold his real character dis played. Whatever be the character ofthe law which God has given for the government of his rational creation, must be the character of the Deity himself. It is.a perfect transcript of his mind and will. If then we view this law as extending to every action and word and thought of our being ; if we believe it to require in us still, all that purity of mind and character in which our race was originally' formed, to demand that we preserve to our latest hour God's perfect image.upon our souls ; if we acknowledge that it allows not the slightest possible defect or deviation, even through ignorances inad* vertency ; if we see that it promises us nothing, biit as the result of a Spotless adherence to its utmost demands from first to -last, we shall of course look upon the Being from whom it has proceeded, as one infinitely holy ; one who cannot re gard iniquity but with abhorrence ; and shall deriYejfrom this proper view of the law, so far as our powers enable us to do i it, an adequate conception of the holiness of God. But if we j suppose the divine law to require' any thing less than- perfect > obedience, to admit any thing short of absolute perfection^ ! we must necessarily conceive of the giver of the law as (a Being less abhorrent of sin. Our views of the holiness of his character will be loweied in proportion as we lower our views of his demands. If we believe that he will give us liberty to depart with impunity from that high standard which he proposed for man in paradise, and has established : for> angels in heaven around his throne, we lay a stain of imper fection upon his character, and lose the just view which we should entertain of his abiding holiness. Our reverence for him is diminished ; out fear of hi? inspection is destroyed ; and all dread of his judgment passes away. .*¦-¦ In like manner, upon our view of the divine law, depends all adequate conceptions of the justice of God. If we believe that the sanctions with which he enforces his law, are strong and awful ; if we believe that these sanctions involve nothing less than the everlasting happiness or misery of every child of man; if we are convinced that one single defect, of what ever kind, will forfeit all title to happiness, and involve the soul in irremediable guilt and misery; if we are satisfied that these sanctions can never be set aside, can never be miti gated, can never cease to operate throughout eternity, we shall of course derive from this just view of the law, a high and honourable idea of that justice of God which will never relax the smallest iota of his demands, either in reference to the obedience of man, or to the execution of the threatenings denounced against him. But if we contract our view of the law, and entertain the idea that God will overlook some of our imperfections and wanderings, or that he will punish them only for a- time, and that, too, only in a way which feeble man will be able to endure, we, of necessity, proportionably lower our ideas of divine justice, accommodate our views of the character of God to the standard of human deficiency,- and make him altogether such an one as ourselves. It is equally true, that without a proper knowledge of the law, we have no correct apprehension of the divine mercy and love. When we acknowledge that we have contracted guilti ness, great beyond all measure and conception, and we feel ourselves exposed to judgrnents commensurate with our de viations from God's perfect law ; when we see that our sins are more in number than the sands upon the sea-shore, and that every one of those sins is deserving of the eternal wrath and vengeance of God, we shall stand amazed at the mercy of that offended Being, who, instead of executing his threat ened vengeance, has himself provided a remedy for-the whole world ; a remedy suited to our wants, and adequate to our necessities; a remedy by which he may Testore us to his favour, not only without compromising the honour of his other perfections, but to the everlasting advancement and glory of them all. Yes, truly, with such correct views of the un changing law of God, we shall magnify his mercy, that'can pardon so much guilt, relieve from so much misery, and exalt to his eternal glory; such unworthy and polluted creatures. But should we imagine our offences to have been compara* tively few, and our desert of vengeance to be comparatively light; should we suppose our wanderings and deflciences to . admit of any possible excuse, who does not see that w4 Te- duce to nothing, that mercy of God which has been so little needed, and which has accomplished for us a deliverance so inconsiderable and unimportant 1 A ruined sinner, ransomed from eternal hell, like a brand plucked out pf the fire, will have abundant cause to magnify the love of God forever. A man to whom much is forgiven, will havi reason to love much ; while he who thinks that he needs but little to be forgiven, will of necessity love but little. PAROCHIAL fjECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. Thus all our views of the attributes of God depend upon our sentiments in reference to his law. Neither his holiness, nor his justice, nor his love, can be in any degree appreciated, unless, like the PsalmMgjj we learn these wondrous things out of the law. In proportion as the law is magnified, are our con ceptions of the divine perfections exalted. And in the de gree to which the law is superficially considered, are our views of the character of Jehovah lowered and rendered in effectual. What reason have we, then, from this view of the subject, to adopt with earnestness the prayer of the Psalmist in the text! But the importance of this petition will yet more evidently appear, while I proceed to observe, 2. That upon our clear knowledge of the law depend all just views of the character and offices of the Lord Jesus Christ. Our sole necessity for a Saviour -arises from the relation in which we stand to the divine law. It is because we have transgressed this law, are condemned by its sentence, and are utterly incapable either of atoning for our past sins, or of restoring ourselves to the Divine Image, that we need the intervention of some Redeemer, who shall be able to save unto the nttermost. Our view of the demands of the law will regulate our whole conception of the value of the atonement of Christ. If we are convinced that our sins are infinitely numerous, and that our guilt is inconceivably great; if we believe that every deviation from God's perfect law has brought upon us a curse, an everlasting curse, under the wrath of Almighty God ; if we see that the demands of law and justice could never be satisfied with any thing but the full punishment of the offender, either in his own person or in the person of an adequate surety ; that the death which the law denounces must be borne before satisfaction can be made; then do we at tain a correct and satisfying apprehension of tbe atonement of Jesus. In exact proportion as our views of our own guilt and misery are magnified and extended, do we exalt the value of the Saviour, who, by the sacrifice of himself, has restored us to the lost favour of God. And just in the degree to which we lower our views of our own necessities and of the divine demands, do we depreciate the value and destroy the character of the atonement of the gospel. It is only by a correct knowledge of what the law demands, that we can gain an adequate idea of what Christ has done. Our view of the law will control our understanding of the gospel system of justification. Conceive of the law as never to be satisfied without a perfect obedience to its commands, as requiring every soul to possess, either in himself or in his surety, a righteousness commensurate with its highest de mands ; as altogether refusing to relax its requisitions, unless in every point and tittle they have been fulfilled ; and then you will proportionably exalt the Redeemer, who has wrought put, in his personal substituted obedience, a spotless righ teousness for all who shall believe in him ; and has opened through the offering of this righteousness, first to God in man's behalf, and then to man for his acceptance, a way of salvation for every human sinner. But reduce your views of these demands of the law, lower the righteousness which it will accept to any inferior standard, say your own sincere but imperfect obedience, and in this false view of the law you undermine the whole system of gospel grace ; you reduce to nothing your need of the righteousness of Christ ; cancel al together all the obligations under which you are placed to him ; and make him to have lived, obeyed, and died in vain. But look still more extensively at the offices of the Son of God. Consider him as the great Prophet who is to instruct us ; and what comparative need is there for his instructions, if so partial and defective a knowledge of his religion as we are able of ourselves to obtain, will suffice our purpose ? Why should we ask for his teaching, if there be competency in any inferior guide ? Why seek for light from heaven, if our darkness be not too deep for any earthly glimmering to pene trate % Consider him as the great High Priest of our pro fession, who is to atone for us ; and what need have we of his infinite sacrifice, if our own repentance and reformation can be accepted by God, and restore us to his favour ? To make up our deficiencies ? Consider him as the King of Zion, who is to rule over us ; and why do we require such holy and powerful government and protection, if our weakness and rebellion and danger be so unimportant ? What need of in finite authority, if so little is to be effected in our behalf, either in a way of deliverance from sin, or in a way of spir itual renovation ? The less that is required of man himself, the less must of necessity he required : of his surety. And ¦Jonsequently, as we reduce our views of the demands of the law, and the necessities of the sinner, we bring down the whole work of Christ, whether in us, or for us, in the very same proportion. They that are whole need not a physi cian, but they who are sick. If we be not, and feel not our selves to be totally lost and ruined, then surely in vain, so far as we are concerned, is the purpose; of the Father, and the substitution of the Son, for the redemption of the world. Upon our accurate convictions o£ what the law actually de mands, and of what the law actually threatens, depend all our views of the. character and offices of Christ, in the salva- tino of man, as displayed in the gospel. 3. I proceed to apply the same course of reasoning to the operations of the Holy Ghost. Our correct sentiments in regard to them, rest entirely upon our proper knowledge of the divine law. The Spirit of God is sent upon us from on high to form our natures and charac ters anew ; and to impress again upon our souls that image of God which sin has destroyed. But the less we suppose to be required of us, the less there is for him to do within us. His office is to create our souls anew in holiness.! But if the first creation of them be not destroyed entirely, where is the necessity for a new creation ? If the difficulty be partial, the remedy may be partial too. He is to raise us up from the dead, and to quicken us, by his power, into life. But 'if we are not actually dead in sin, why should we require the exercise of a life-giving power. He is to bring us back to God, to give us a new heart, to sanctify us from our pollu tions,, and to deliver us from our darkness. But if we do not feel ourselves to be entirely depraved, involved in the deep est darkness and ignorance, and altogether gone out of the way of life and peace, how shall we be led to seek and. sup plicate his creative power upon our souls ? If we believffour dangers and our wants to be extreme, we shall rejoice in the provision of a remedy suited to extremities. But such a remedy will never be sought without this conviction be first impressed upon our minds. It is entirely from this want of a just view of the actual condition of man, under a violated law, that so many deny the necessity of the influences of the Holy Ghost ; either for the illumination of their minds, or for the sanctification of their souls. To this single source must be traced- the whole denial of the doctrine of the Trin ity, and of all the doctrines which are dependant upon it ; the doctrine of atonement, of imputed righteousness, and of divine regeneration. Men do not feel their need of a divine Saviour, of an Immanuel, to make up the breach be tween them and God. They do not feel their want of an Almighty Agent, to work in them the work of God ; and thus they bring down their systems and principles of theology to the low and miserable standard of the Pelagian, Arian and Socinian heresies. This ignorance of the law of God is the Pandora's box from whence all these evils spring. Let a man obtain a thorough insight into the spirituality of the divine law, and see how solemnly and fatally its demands and sanctions shut up his soul under sin, and he will find that these meagre systems will never supply his wants, nor afford any remedy in the least degree adequate to his ne cessities. He will see that if any one less than God himself, undertake to effect his soul's salvation, he must assuredly perish ; that if he is to depend upon any power inferior to Jehovah, if he has none but the most exalted creature to rely upon, he would be glad to take his portion under rocks and mountains, if they could hide him from the unquenchable wrath of God. I have thus made clear my first head of discourse : that upon our correct knowledge ofthe divine law depend all just views of religious truth. In the next discourse I shall pro ceed to consider all proper religious feelings and all scriptural hopes of salvation, as resting upon the same foundation. In this partial accomplishment of my design, I feel that there is seen sufficient reason for the prayer of our text. Wondrous things the divine law reveals, when it shows us the depth of our own depravity, the extent of our actual dan gers as sinners against God, and our need of Christ and his what purpose was all this waste, if a smaller offering will igreat salvation. Let this prayer be made your own. It will be a blessing to you to know your wants, to see how much there is to be done for your souls destroyed by sin. God alone can draw aside the veil, and enable you to behold this view of your own characters. So far, then, from op posing this revelation, unite, I beseech you, with earnestness of desire to him, that he would give you understanding of the truth ; that he would make you to feel its power, and lead you in the deep conviction of your wants, to cry aloud to God for the pardon and salvation which Jesus has purchased, and CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. you so evidently need, under the deep conviction, that unless he save you, you must perish. LECTURE II. Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of the law. — Psalm cxix. 18. As a proper introduction to this course of sermons upon the Divine Law, I have attempted to show you the vast im portance of an accurate knowledge of this law. In my last discourse I opened this subject by asserting that upon a proper knowledge of the operation and demands of the law of God, depended all our just views of religious truth — all our proper feelings of religious character, and all our scriptural and well-founded hopes of religious blessings. The proof of the first of these assertions occupied' our at tention when I addressed you before ; and it was my object to show, that without an accurate knowledge and view of the divine law, we could form no just conceptions of the perfections of God, of the offices of Christ, or or the operations of the Holy Ghost. In this view of the subject, there was seen abundant reason for the petition of the text. But what we then considered, forms only a part of the wondrous things which we may here behold, and we shall find still more rea son to desire that our eyes may be opened with spiritual un derstanding upon this all-important subject, when we have finished our meditations upon the other two points before US. '¦ II. A proper knowledge of the law lies at the foundation of all true religion, practical as well as doctrinal, and while all just views of religious truth rest upon this, all proper feelings in religion, the whole state of the affections accepta ble in the sight of God, are dependant upon it also. 1. All the affections and feelings which now belong to man, in connexion with his Creator, are those which arisefrom the fact of his natural sinfulness and guilt. Mere natural reli gion, of which men sometimes speak, the religion of man's own reason, brings no offerings unto God, but -those of Cain, which, like his, must be inevitably rejected. Man has no way of his own by which he can find an acceptable approach to his offended Maker. His native situation is one of utter ruin and danger; the wrath of God abideth on him, and he is living upon the despised forbearance of his Judge, a ves sel of wrath fitted for destruction. Of the extent of this na tural guilt and danger, however, he is ignorant, and must be ignorant, until he be made acquainted with what God requires of him. By the law is the knowledge of sin ; and the con- . viction which the sinner has of his guilt, will depend entirely upon the view which he takes of the divine law. If he has been accustomed to see it as a spotless and inflexible system, to hear it say to him, of the utmost conceivable devotion to God, and obedience to his will, " Do this, do it always, do it perfectly, do it forever, or thou must-die ;" when his eyes are opened, to behold his own deficiencies, he will see himself to be counted altogether guilty, and to have his mouth entirely stopped before God ; he wili see in the demands of the holy law, such an extent of violated and neglected claims upon his soul, that there is left for him no feeling upon which he can rest the shadow of hope, nor any circumstance which he can plead in extenuation of a single deficiency ; he is condemned ; he is only condemned ; he is condemned eternally. This the law shows him, when he beholds its searching application to his own character. But if he has been satisfied with more general and indefi nite views of the claims of the law, the same indistinctness is transferred to his conviction of his personal guilt. What he sees not to be guilty in fact, he will not see to be guilty in himself. His heart will plead a thousand excuses from temptation and imbecility and inadvertence ; and while he ac knowledges that in many things he has certainly done wrong, he cannot see that even his holy things have been guilt, and every recess of his heart filled with odious and abominable wickedness. Upon a proper knowledge of the divine law depends all true conviction of. sin. 2. Again, without an accurate knowledge of the law, theTe can be no true humility. In the connexion between man and his Creator, this grace is of the highest importance. But what is humility ? It is not merely a sense of our weakness as creatures, nor is it a mere general acknowledgment that we are sinners. Not a human being, probably, would deny either of these facts. But it is a deep and abiding conscious ness of our guilty and undone state. It is a consciousness that darkness itself is not more opposite to light, than we are to the pure and holy law of God. It is such a sense of our utter alienation from God, and of our voluntary* enmity agam**f him; of the fact, that every imagination of the thoughts of our heart is only evil continually, as makes us really abhor and loath ourselves, and repent in dust and ashes, before a God who searcheth the heart, who has surrounded us with his mercies, and will bring every secret thing into judgment, whether it be good , or whether it be evil. This is that broken and contrite spirit which God will not despise. But how rarely is this seen ! How seldom do we find persons pene trated with this deep sense of sin, smiting upon their breastsj and crying aloud for mercy, as sinners deserving God's infi nite wrath and indignation ! Suppose you saw a man under this proper consciousness of sin, crying out, "I am damned, I am damned already," — groaning under the most distressing apprehensions of the anger of God ; which of you, even if you did not deride his fears, would not be ready to suppose that he carried matters quite to an excess, and that unless he had been guilty of some transgressions far beyond the com mon walk of men, there could be no reason for such exces sive griefs and sorrows ? Such penitents are iew, and such comforters, miserable as they are, would be found in every class of life. But why is all this ? Would it be a false view of the sinner's character that would lead to such distress ? No. This false estimation of his sorrow arises from universal ig- ¦ norance of the divine law. Men do not try either themselves ' or others by this high standard. Being insensible of their departures from God, they see no cause for such humiliation on account of these departures. The idea of humility, as the scriptures present the term, never enters into the natural mind. The unconverted man does not know the meaning of the word. Copious as were the languages of Greece and Rome, they had not a word which can convey the idea of humility, as expressed in the language of the Bible. The word which expressed their notion of humility, spoke of it just as every natural man thinks of it, as associated with meanness and dishonour, rather than as a high and exalted virtue. Though all now profess to admire humility as a grace, there is not in the universe a man in his natural and unconverted state, that either possesses it, or approves of it according to its real impart. It is one of the wondrous things to be beheld from a proper knowledge of the law, and God alone can open our eyes to see and desire it. 3. The same assertion may be made of true gratitude to God. Gratitude is nothing but a thankful sense of mercies which have been received, and it will depend in its degree entirely upon the amount of benefits which the individual supposes to have been conferred upon him. The Christian who sees himself in the light of God's revelations, will view himself as a poor bondslave, ransomed from sin and Satan, death and hell, and ransomed, too, by the precious blood of his Incarnate God. He will be, in his own apprehension, altogether " a brand plucked out of the burning." An apostate fiend, redeemed from the very fires of hell, would not, in his estimation, be a greater monument of grace than he. Having this view of himself, his whole soul blesses his redeeming God, and he calls upon all that is within him to praise his holy name. But, alas ! how rarely do we see this transport! How few, even truly redeemed, appear duly sensible of the weight of obligations which has been laid upon them 1 A proper and reasonable sense of man's unworthiness and God's abundant love, would be generally esteemed extravagant and absurd. To the generality of men, some faint acknowledg ments are quite sufficient to express their sense of redeeming love ; and stronger language, and stronger emotions, than they indulge, are considered fanatical and false. But oh! how different is this state of mind from the feelings of the holy beings around the throne of God. Angels and saints are penetrated with the devoutest admiration of the stupen dous mystery of grace displayed in man's redemption. The one, adoring its transcendant excellency ; the other, giving praise to God, as experiencing themselves its richest benefits. They are all prostrating themselves before the throne of the Lamb. Why is it that men are so cold and insensible ? Is it not simply because they see not the depths from whence they have been redeemed ? Because they have no clear view of the condemnation under which the law had sealed them, for repeated violation 1 Did they see in the mirror of God's PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE- GOSPEL. holy law, the depth of misery from which they have been delivered, they would have far other thoughts and feelings in regard to that heavenly Saviour who came down into the abyss of their ruin, to save them with an everlasting salva tion; and from this Knowledge ofthe claims ofthe law, holy and ardent gratitude would -arise to him who was content to bear its demands himself, that they might be released from the necessity of bearing them forever. But having reduced almost to nothing, in this ignorance of the law, their obliga tions to him, it is not a matter for surprise that their gratitude for his goodness should be proportionably weak and vapid. 4. Without having our eyes opened to behold the true charac ter of the divine law, there will be no holy zeal for God. Who among the redeemed on earth, feels this in any measure cor respondent with what the Scripture demands 1 We are repre sented as bought with a price ; and are therefore called upon to glorify God in our bodies and spirits, which are his. Were we truly sensible of our obligations to God, no service under heaven would appeaT too great as a return to him. All that we could do for such a Lord, would be nothing in our eyes ; and all that we could suffer for him would be ac counted light and vain. Our time, our talents, our property, our influence, our whole life, would appear of no value, but as they could be made subservient to advance the divine glory. But how little of this spirit is seen! and how little is it approved among men even when it is seen ! How in finitely below this is the standard of those who value them selves upon their morality of conduct ! And this deficiency must be traced to the cause we have repeatedly noticed. Humilityj gratitude, and zeal for God, all rise or fall, ac cording to our views of the law. According as these are deep, or superficial, will the others evince themselves to ac cord, or disagree, with the standard which is proposed to us in the gospel. We can never have an entire devotedness of heart to God, as his redeemed people, until we apprehend the extent of our redemption. With defective views of this, we shall be con tented with a low standard of obedience, and never aspire after a perfect conformity to the divine image of God. To walk altogether as Christ walked, will appear to us as bondage. To tread in the steps of the holy apostles, will be regarded as being righteous overmuch. To glory in the cross for Christ's sake, and to rejoice that we are counted worthy to suffer shame, and even death for him, "will be thought a state of mind, desirable only for apostles, and mis sionaries, and martyrs. But no state of mind inferior to this will prove us to be really sincere in the service of the Lord. No partial devotion will be an acceptable sacrifice unto the Lord. If we would be Christ's indeed, we must live not unto ourselves, but unto him who died for us and rose again; purifying ourselves even as he is pure, and being perfect even as our Father who is in heaven is perfect. This is the result of the constraining love of Christ. The grace of Christ alone can effect it in us. Without this grace we must remain destitute of this spirit forever. Without a vital union to Christ we have not, and we cannot have, these high attainments of the gospel ; and our ignorance of the divine law will keep us separated from Christ forever. Upon a proper knowledge of the law, therefore, all religious feelings, the whole right state of the affections, depend. And this fact brings home to us, with great seriousness and value, the pe tition of our text : Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law. III. Our third general object is to show that a proper un. derstanding of the divine law is the foundation of all scrip tural hopes of religious blessings, as well as of all just views and proper feelings in religion. It is made the subject of repeated prayer by the apostles, that the Christians, to whom they wrote and ministered, might have the eyes of their understanding enlightened, that they might be able . to comprehend for themselves the nature and worth of gospel hopes and privileges, and be able to give to others a reason for the hope which wa3 in them. Clear views of religious truth are indispensable to the en joyment of a rational and consoling hope of life eternal; and while Satan is deluding the vast multitudes of the uncon verted with false and unfounded hopes, the nature and the fact of these deceits are only to be ascertained by an ex amination of the ground upon which the professed hope is resting. All false hopes of life arise from an ignorance of the di vine law. When a sinner is found claiming, as it were, from the reasonableness and justice of God's dealings, eternal life, because he has done no harm, has injured or defrauded no man, — what but ignorance of the law has veiled his mind with an expectation so deceitful ? While he sees not that his very best deeds stand in need of mercy as much as his vilest sins ; that the. smallest defect entails upon him an eter nal curse as truly as the most enormous transgressions ; that his prayers, by themselves, will condemn him as certainly as his oaths, upon what but total misapprehension of the nature of the divine claims and requisitions, does his false confidence of security depend 1 If another man speaks of his hope as founded upon the un bounded mercy of God, which is over all his works, the same ignorance ofthe law lies at the foundation of this delu sion. When a judge is seated upon the bench, could the plea of guilt, on the part of the criminal, be in any degree affected by an assertion of previous dependence upon the mercy that should be found on trial 1 The hour of trial is the time of law, and not the time for mercy. In the present life, there is abundant mercy offered to the sinner ; but in God's own way. When the time of final retribution arrives, all claim upon mercy has passed by ; and the principles of just and equal law must govern every determination? The man still sinning, and trusting in divine mercy for final and future pardon, is destroyed by his ignorance ofthe law. Its claim's must be satisfied. It allows not, it cannot allow, the name of mercy. Without the shedding of blood, it offers no remission ; and until its full penalty has been sustained, it is utterly vain to think of charming its demands to rest. The mercy of God is shown in his gracious method of making satisfaction to the law for the sinner's soul. It can never be exhibited in setting aside the demands of the law while they remain unsatisfied. From the same ignorance ofthe law springs that indefigite kind of hope which great numbers express in the meritspef the Lord Jesus Christ. They can give no reason for trusting in him. They have no clear idea of what he has done, that should lead them to this confidence. They furnish no evi dence in the holy devotion of their lives, that they have been truly brought by the Holy Spirit to believe in him ; nor have' they probably any distinct emotion in their hearts connected with that faith of which they speak. But they say they be lieve in Jesus Christ, and that all their hope is in him** At the same time, they do not, and will not accept salvation, upon the terms on which it is offered in the gospel. They will not agree to renounce their good works, as they are called, as a partial ground 'of dependance ; and to enter the kingdom of heaven at the same gate with publicans and har lots. This is too humiliating. Their proud hearts must have something in which they can boast themselves. And if they cannot make their own lives the sole ground of their justification, they will rely upon them in part. Or if they are to be brought to rest only upon the merit of Christ, they will make their own goodness a reason for believing in him. They will not suffer themselves to be stript of all self- preference. They will not glory solely in the cross of Christ. The condemning character of the law they have never expe rienced nor seen. They have not the least idea of the way in which it lays guilt and death upon their souls; nor though they assert. the possession of a hope in Jesus Christ, do they know or trouble themselves to think what he has done, or how he has done any thing for them. All these false hopes, and all other hopes of the same kind, rise up. and are entertained in the unconverted mind, because the eyes have never been opened to see wondrous things in the divine law. Man cannot live without some hope ; and Satan, perfectly aware of this, presents these refuges of lies ; and keeping his mind in ignorance, deceives him into the embracing and confiding in these unfounded expectations. The fact that ignorance is the source of these false hopes, will open to us, in part, the importance of that knowledge of the law which lies at the foundation of all true and scriptural hope. Hope is founded entirely upon faith. It is a kind of personal application of the subject of faith. Now the faith which alone justifies the soul, is that which brings us simply to the Lord Jesus Christ as the great end and fulfilment ofthe law for the believing sinner. If we attempt in any measure or degree to blend with the work of Christ's redemption any thing of our own, we make utterly void all that he has done and suffered for us. From that moment Christ has become of no effect to us. As far as we are concerned, he has died in vain. Faith looks to Christ as the sole answer to the demands of the law. A due attention to the law presents two distinct claims, which it makes upon every sinner. Death, as the [punishment ofpast guilt; and spotless, eternal obedience, as CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. the title to future reward. Somewhere, either in the sinner, or according to the covenant of grace in the substitute for the sinner, these must be found, or else the law still stands as a flaming and impassable sword, at the gate of life. Now, while these can never be found in the sinner himself, faith discerns them both, in their utmost possible value, in the sinner's surety. As the punishment which the law demands for past guilt, there is seen the sufferings and death of an immaculate Redeemer, upon whom has been laid the believer's load; and from his satisfaction, faith offers to hope a full and unqualified pardon for past transgressions. As the obedi ence without blemish, which the law requires for justification, there is beheld the perfect, voluntary, unrequired obedience which the Son of God rendered to its precepts ; a righteousness which magnified the law and made it honourable ; and in the per sonal imputation of this righteousness to tbe believer freely, through the grace of God, faith presents to hope an undis puted and interminable title to that life eternal which tbe soul desires. Here then is a scriptural and well-founded hope. It is a reasonable, religious, and holy hope. It is a sure, i|p.movable, and satisfying hope. But upon what does it rest, save upon a knowledge of what Christ has' actually done] And whence does a knowledge of what Christ has done arise, but from a proper view of what the law of God required should be done ? Thus it is that true hope rests upon a knowledge of the law ; and until we have obtained this knowledge, nothing under heaven can lead us to a simple and living faith in Jesus, or give us the hope which springs from such a faith. Under these three heads oi just views, proper feelings and scriptural hopes in religion, I think I have shown the import ance of a proper knowledge of the divine law, and of the petifion which our text contains. O that I might impress upon your minds the vast importance of this subject! Its ignorance is the root of all the superficial views and state ments in religion with which the Christian world is filled. The salvation of your souls depends upon the acceptance or rejection of the truths which are thus displayed. Let the earnest petition ofthe text be adopted by every hearer. God's Holy Spirit must deliver you from darkness, in this all-in volving concern. The day-spring from on high must guide' your feet into the way of peace. If you find yourselves in total ignorance, as many of you must, in this matter, or if you find yourselves, though having partial knowledge to have but indistinct conceptions of the truths which have been set before you, make the prayer of David the prayer of your hearts. Seek wisdom from above, and seek it with all your hearts, that you may walk no more in the blindness of your minds, having your understandings darkened through the ignorance that is in them. You must know the extent of your disease before you will be adequately convinced of the importance of the remedy, or see the adaptation of the remedy to your wants. Give yourselves, then, to the understanding of this vital portion of religious truth ; that, by the Spirit of God opening your eyes, and elevating yonr affections, and guiding your hearts, you may be led to the attainment and possession of a hope which maketh not ashamed ; a hope in Jesus, which shall lead you, though you see him not, yet believing in him, to rejoice with joy unspeakable and fall of glory. LECTURE III. THE SPIRITUALITY OF THE LAW. We know that the law is spiritual. — Roman-s vii. 14. I have spoken of the importance of a proper understanding ofthe divine law, upon two previous occasions. The character of that law, of which we are to acquire a knowledge, comes now before us as our present subject. In considering the nature of the law, the first and most important attribute of it is the one declared in our text — its spirituality. The apostle speaks in this text exclusively of the moral law, to which our attention has been, and is still turned. The judicial law of the Israelites was merely the common law of that nation. It never had, nor was it ever designed to have, the least authority over the inhabitants of any other land. This law could not, in any sense, be said to be a spiritual law. Like all other statute books, its requisitions and pro hibitions took cognizance only of the outward acts of its subjects, and recompensed obedience or disobedience respect ively, with temporal impunity and protection, and with tern- poral suffering and death. This law cannot be said to be.,l abrogated in regard to other nations,, for it never had authority, "¦ beyond the bounds of the posterity of Jacob. . , The ceremonial law, or the precepts which enjoined the ceremonies and observances of Jewish religion, can with no , more propriety be called spiritual. St. Paul styles it a law ot , carnal commandments; and speaks of it expressly ascon-, sisting of carnal ordinances. It was a system of shadows,. under which were meant to be represented the great, truths and realities of the religion of Jesus; and in itself, it made ; nothing perfect. This law, like the judicial law of the Israel ites, was entirely partial in its application. It was never imposed upon the Gentiles, except as they became proselytes to the religion of the Jews ; and, therefore, in regard to them, it can with no more propriety than the last, be said to he abrogated. ¦-, The great moral law of Jehovah was embodied in the in stitutes to which the Israelites were required to submit. But, it is entirely separable from that which was merely local and temporary in its authority and its claims. Of this, the Psalm ist says, the law of God is perfect, converting the soul ; the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes. It is to this, and this only, that the apostle refers in our text, as - a spiritual law. This, he says, was ordained to life; or first!* designed to confer life upon man, as the result of his obe- : dience ; and it was only by its transgression that it was found to be unto death. This law was perfectly holy. All its commandments were holy, just, and good. And the very holiness of the law made sin appear exceeding sinful. Let us understand, then, distinctly, what is to be meant by the moral law, of which the declaration of our text is made- It is that law which is embodied in the ten commandments given to Moses on Mount Sinai, by the ministration of angels. It was written then by the finger of God, and communicated with a pomp and majesty which became its character. The ceremonial and national law was revealed, afterwards, and in private. The same law is reduced by, Jesus Christ to two simple commandments, embracing su preme love to the Creator, and universal benevolence to his creatures; and still more narrowed down in terms by St. Paul, who says, that love is the fulfilling of the law. To this great law every angelic being is subjected. This law,r was originally written upon the heart of man in paradise;* but being obliterated in consequence of the fall, by the love; of sin, and forgetfulness of God, it needed to be republished.* In fallen and degraded man, there remained no good things not even the remembrance of what his Creator had originally required of him. In order, then, to display the real character of God ; to show how much transgression abounded ; to ex hibit the universal necessity for the promised seed, whom God had taught men to expect, as a blessing to all nations; the divine law was anew proclaimed to the Israelites. This moral law was announced before any private, and peculiar institutions were imposed, because this was the foundation' of all other commands. In the acknowledgment of subjec-' tion to this, the Israelites confessed the right of God to impose upon them any precepts, which in his infinite wisdom* should seem advisable. It showed them on what terms life was to have been obtained by man in a state of purity; the only terms upon which the law could offer life. It showed them also the utter impossibility of attaining this object.by the law, in a state of transgression ; and thus revealing Jon the one hand the demand, and on the other the impossibility; of complying with it; it shut them up to the faith which should be afterwards revealed. Of this law our text speaks; a law of total submission to the will ofthe Creator; as obligatory upon Gentiles as upon Jews ; as binding in heaven as upon earth. Of this it is said, we know that the law is spiritual. This attribute of the law is a fundamental truth, and one as evident as the same attri bute of God. None can deny it, without denying the whole character of God, of which the law is a transcript. And with the same authority and truth with which wc can say, we know that God is a Spirit, may we also say, we know that the law is spiritual. I am now brought, therefore, to the point at which I desired to arrive, the spirituality of the law. I. My first object will be to explain the meaning of the expression — the law is spiritual. 1. In its origin, it flowed from no human or subordinate source, but from God, who is himself a spirit; whom no eye ; hath seen, nor can see. This law is a copy of the character arid will of the Deity. The same inspiration which says, PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. love is the fulfilling, of the law, Says, God is love; so that a perfect conformity to the law would be an entire imitation of the moral character of God. It was first established when the first creature was formed, for then the will of the Creator was first declared. In heaven, it is binding upon the spirits exclusively ; and the love which moves in the breasts of in numerable holy beings around the throne of God, is the ful filling of this law. There its origin and its whole operation are equally spiritual ; and it is admired and reverenced there as the mirror in which the infinitely glorious perfections of the Deity are beheld. In reference to man, the origin of the law is spiritual. It was communicated by the Holy Ghost. It was written by the Spirit of God, upon the heart of man,'- in the hour of his creation. When Adam opened his eyes first upon the beau ties with which God had been pleased to surround him, this spiritual law upon his heart led him to lift up his immediate offering of pure and perfect love to his great Creator, and to scatter from his spotless soul the fragrance of the offering upon every created being. It was spiritually republished in the soul of every child of God, afteT the apostacy, in the hour in which that soul was brought back to God in a spirit of new obedience. It was spiritually proclaimed through the media tion of Moses, and other men of God, who spake its requisi tions, as they were moved by the Holy Ghost. It has still the same spiritual origin when the renewed heart is led to perceive and admire its perfections, and the inner man con verted unto God, is made to delight in its commands. It is one of those important things which the natural man per- ceiveth not, nor is able to know, but by the Spirit of God. In its origin, in heaven, with the first created being ; on earth, in the heart of Adam ; in the revelations of the scriptures, and in the soul of every ransomed sinner, we know that the law is' spiritual, and by the Spirit alone to be revealed to man. 2. The law is spiritual in its requisitions. It was probably chiefly under this aspect that the apostle made the declaration of the text. The law is regarded by some, merely according to the letter of its precepts. The ten commandments, for in stance, are considered as simply referring, in their commands and prohibitions, to the external acts or duties of which they speak. This is a false and partial view of the subject. In opposition to it, the assertions of scripture carry- these pre cepts as strongly to the desires and purposes of the mind, as to the open conduct of the life. The whole law is spiritual in its application. It lays its power upon the inner man, and while it reveals what God commands, it requires unqualified and unbroken obedience in the heart which God searches. If man were shut out from the possibility of external breaches of the commands ; nay, if he were out of the body in which they must, be accomplished, and" were wholly a spirit, the law would impose the same obligation upon him, and make the same demands from him. The principle of obedience, is that to which the law looks, a total submission to the authority of God. The change of occasional relations to other created beings, does not at- all alter the demand for this single -princi ple of subjection to the divine will. This is the spirituality of the requisitions of the law. The thoughts and purposes which lead, in their regular issue, to outward violations of these requisitions, are themselves as much sins against the law, as the results to which they tend. When the law for bids a sin, it equally forbids every thought, and occupation, and feeling, which would lead to its commission ; and when it commands a duty, it equally enjoins every circumstance and habit which can conduce to its performance. In the prohibi tion of sin, it requires, in the same precept, the contrary duty, and in the injunction of a duty, it forbids the transgression which stands against it. It is thus exceeding broad in its ap plication to the conscience, and like a two-edged sword, cutting at the same moment in opposite directions. If the ten commandments, or any one of them, be considered, this is to be the principle of their interpretation; or if we take the two commands into which the Lord has resolved the whole, this is their legitimate application. In the assertion that the law is spiritual in its demands, we simply mean that it demands the heart, in its obedience. Its object is not the regulation of the outward conduct, the directing, or the cutting off the streams of life. It goes to the fountain of all character in the soul, and demands the perfect cleansing of that, in a perfect conformity to the character of God. If it could be a possible event, it would be entirely true, that though in every feeling, and desire, and act of a whole life, an individual had been obedient, and but one single thought had risen in rebellion against God, or gone astray from him,. that one thought would as really annihilate the whole obe dience to which it had been attached, as a life of iniquity. This was the fact with the first man, who, by one purpose cf transgression, destroyed his whole covenant of life. This is the spirituality of the law's demands. It requires, in your whole heart, a submission to God, uninterrupted by & single insurgent feeling, a purity of character, uncontaminated by a single spot, and azeal of devotion, unrelaxing in a single pur-! pose. Thus we know that in its precepts the law ,is spiritual ; it has no partial operation for the earth. The very same character it requires throughout theuniverse. What angels are in heaven, it requires that you should have been, from your birth, and be forever. Its precepts reach the heart, and there are to be obeyed in a perfect and perpetual display of the character or^'God. 3. The law is spiritual in its operations. It was originally ordained to be a covenant of life, and its spiritual operation, then, was simply in its holy, searching and animating guidance to a perfect conformity of the soul to God. It was the friend and guide of man. It taught him what his Creator required. It warned him of what his Creator had: forbidden, and thus, in the keeping of its precepts, it gave him great reward. The disobedience of man has changed the whole course of these spiritual operations of the law. The law can never be the friend of sinners. It comes now with no offer of life. But faithful to God, it stands forth as the witness and the enemy against all who rebel'against him. The whole operation ofthe law. upon a sinner, is to convince and condemn him. It comes in the majesty of its authority, and in the clearness of its accusations, for this twofold purpose. It lays out before his conscience the extent of its own claims, and places, sido by side, with them, the enormity of his transgressions. It shows him what God requires, 'and then it shows him what he has done, and thus, spiritually laying open to him his aggravated guilt, it convinces him of the truth of its state ments. It stops his mouth from all excuses. It compels him to cry out in deep humiliation, unclean, unclean. Having thus convinced him of the fact of his transgressions, it comes in its condemning power to pass the sentence upon his soul. It proclaims the wages of sin ; it announces a coming wrath ; it unveils destruction; it strips off the covering of hell; and thus, spiritually destroying the transgressor's soul, it con strains him to exclaim in the bitterness of anguish, " O, wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death." Here the work of the law ends. Tt cannot go beyond this limit. It convinces and condemns the sinner, and then leaves him to perish. In this aspect, every true Christian may say, as the result of his own experience, I know that the law is spiritual. Under these three views I wish you to consider the spirit uality of the law. In its origin, its requisitions, and its ope rations. Spiritual in all, because it came from, and is em ployed by that Divine Spirit who first made man holy, and now renews him again in holiness, after his own perfect image. if. My second object will be, to draw some suitable re flections from this subject. And, 1. How deeply this view of the divine law must humble the soul of the very holiest of men !„ . As to gross outward violations of the law, many of you may be comparatively blameless. But who has rendered unto God that glory which is his due, and despised every thing, in comparison with him ? Were we to trace that line of conduct which the law lays down, in the different relations of life, who would not be compelled, in view of it, to acknowledge that his trans gressions were multiplied more than the hairs of his head, and as the sands upon the sea shore f And if we come to the tempers and dispositions which we have exercised, and to the thoughts which we have harboured, who must not blush to lift up his eyes unto heaven, and be ashamed and confounded in the presence of that God who searcheth the hearts ? But to call to mind what we have done, or what we have left undone, will give us a very inadequate view of our sinfulness. If you would estimate yourselves aright, you must take the high standard of God's holy law, and see how infinitely short of your duty you have come, in every act of your lives, and in every moment of your existence. You must not inquire merely whether you have loved God at all ; but how near you have come to what his law requires, and his perfections demand. You must trace the whole state of your souls from the beginning of their life, and estimate it by this rule. You will then see that your attainments have been as nothing, literally, I say, as nothing, in comparison of you* CHRISTIAN LIBRA-RY, short comings and defects. The poorest bankrupt that ever existed has paid as great a proportion of his debt as you have of your debt to God ; yea, He is in a far higher state than you, for he, if he discharge nothing of his debt, adds nothing to it, but you have been augmenting your debt, every day, every hour, every moment. The very best deeds of the very best men in an unconverted state, when tried by the touchstone of God's perfect law, are but one continued accumulation of guilt and misery, against the day of wrath. If you try yourselves only by the letter of the law, you will not see this ; but if you look into its spirit, there will be no terms too humiliating to express four sinfulness and your desert of God's wrath and indignation. O that I could call you to this self-abasing view ! That I could wrest out of your hands that delusive plea, that you have done no harm ! I pray you take judgrhent for your line, and' righteousness for your plummet, and judge your selves as God judgeth. It is by his judgment that you must stand or fall, arid not by your own ; and his judgment, rely upon it, will be according to truth. Were the' condemnation that awaits you to affetSt. only the present life, we might be contented to leave you under your delusions. But we know that you must shortly appear be fore the heart-searching God, to receive your final doom. Then the book of his remembrance will' be opened. Then your own consciences will attest the truth of every accusa tion which shall be brought against you ; and then will you see the equity both ofthe test by which, you will be tried, and of the sentence which shall be pronounced against you. There will be no respect of persons in the judgment of this spiritual law. The leamed and dignified will stand on the same footing with the most'illiterate peasant ; or rather will have a severer judgment, in proportion to the advantages which they shall have neglected to improve. The Lord grant you ability to lay these considerations duly to heart ; and enable you to abase yourselves before God with that hu mility of mind, and that brokenness of heart, which God will not despise. ' i 2. In conclusion I would remark, how foolish are all at tempts to establish a righteousness of our own by the works of the law ! There is not a single precept which does not testify before God against out guilt. Some persons, indeed, have an idea, that Christ has lowered the terms of the law, and brought down its demands to the standard of human in firmity. But where can they find any thing that sanctions such an idea as this % Which ofthe commands has the Lord Jesus lowered 1 He has summed up the whole decalogue in his two precepts : Thou shah love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbour as thyself. Which of these two has he set aside ? Which has he dispensed with % Or what measure of abatement has he made in either of them 1 If this law before the coming of Christ required too much, was it then holy, just and good 1 If, on the contrary, it required only what was really due, then has not Christ, if he has at all lowered its demands, robbed God of the obedience which was due to him ; and thus become himself the minister and patron of sin 1 On every subject which concerns the Deity would I speak with reverence ; but I must say, that God Cannot reduce the demands of his own law. It would be to divest himself of his own glory, and to give liberty to man to violate the obli- o-ations which every rational creature of necessity owes to the Creator. The law of God is as immutable as himself; for it is a perfect transcript of his own mind and will. It is a matter of indispensable duty to every creature to love the Creator with supreme affection ; and to love, in subordina tion to him, all the works of his intelligent creation. This law is unalterable. And if any w.ould obtain a righteousness by it, they must obey it perfectly, from first to last; and as this is utterly impossible to those who are already trans gressors, the thought of obtaining righteousness by the law must be relinquished by every soul of man. You must, if you would be saved at all, seek for some other righteousness more commensurate with the demands of the law, and more consistent with the honour of the Lawgiver. I would to God you could all adopt the declaration of the text : " We know that the law is spiritual." But how gen erally are you ignorant of this important matter ! Nay, what general ignorance of it prevails throughout the Christian world ! All sinners are desirous of moderating the law to their own standard. All are anxious to lessen their own criminality before God ; and to d6 this, they thus attempt to make him the partner of. their guilt. I beseech you to settle it in your minds, as an indisputable fact, that the law of God is alto gether a spiritual law; andthat itmust Temain so for ever. Let it be thoroughly understood, that this 'is trie nature ofthe law of which, in these discourses, I am proceeding to SV^- » and if you gain a clear insight into this important attribute of the law, the uses and operations of it, as subsequently considered, will be perfectly distinct and intelligible to your minds. My great object in the whole of this course of re mark, is to persuade you to give tip your vain confidence-in yourselves ; to cease from man, whose breath is in his nos trils; to lay aside every notion that you have any thing to offer unto God, and to look for a righteousness which shall correspond with the utmost demands of this spiritual- law. Such a righteousness is provided in the Lord Jesus Christ, and freely offered by him to every penitent and believing sin ner. Remaining under the law, you remain under a curse. You are exposed to the everlasting anger' of God for each thought of your life. It gives you no hope and no comfort. The law.is spiritual, and you are carnal and , sold under sin. It condemns and destroys you in every one of its precepts ; and it is the height of infatuation to look to it for justification and life. If these appear to you hard sayings, the Spirit -of God must enable you to receive them. He must subdue your pride and vain confidence ; arid show you by the very law to which you thus cling, that you are condemned and ruined. O that his convincing power were received andex- ercised in all your consciences ; that you could be compelled to cry, God be merciful to us sinners ; that you could he Constrained, in the view of the law's unbending, impossible demands, to ask, What shall we do to be saved % Then would you follow me in these considerations with success ; and find, to your souls' salvation, that Christ is the end pf the law for righteousness to every one. that believeth. LECTURE IV. THE CONVINCING POWER OF THE LAW. Now, we know that what things soever tbe law saith, it saith to them that are under the law, that every mouth may be stopped, and all die world may become guilty before God. — Romans hi. 19. The consideration of the spirituality of the law leads us to consider next, as the subject immediately succeeding, the, uses and operations of the law. The serious contemplation of the extent of the divine law, must lead us with the Psalmist to exclairii, " Thy commandment is exceeding broad." Though, like him, we have seen an end of all perfec tion, taken and understood the dimensions of all other things, and been able to estimate the worth of all created objects, yet none by searching can find out God, or behold the extent of that law, which is a perfect transcript or picture of his cha racter: The view which I have attempted to give you 'of the spiritual character of the law, is entirely inadequate to the importance of the subject; but it is probably sufficiently ex tensive, to convince you that the subject is important in the highest degree, and one which it is reasonable for us to de sire to understand. We now take the law, thus extended and illustrated, for our subject ; and proceed to speak of its uses to us who live under the operatrah and within the reach' of the privileges* of gospel grace. It is not uncommon to deny its whole appli cation to men living under the gospel ; and it is frequently denied to have any thing like the power and influence which will be assigned to it in these discourses ; and which are as signed to it, I believe, in the infallible revelations of the scriptures. The question which the apostle asks, "Whereto serveth the lawl" is asked, but in a different spirit, by many among us. The subject now before us will be sufficient, if it be properly regarded, to answer this question, to those by whom it is suggested in a spirit of inquiry ; and to set aside the objections of those by whom it is brought forward, in a fretful spirit of opposition. In pursuing my design, I shall present the spiritual law of the Most High to your view, under four different aspects ; I. In its convincinb power upon the conscience of the sinner. II. In its condemning power upon the soul of the impenitent. III. In its guiding power to lead the sinner to Christ. '¦ ¦ IV. In its governing power to control him after he has embraced the gospel. PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 9 The subject of the present discourse, is the convincing power ofthe law upon the conscience of the sinner. " Now we know that whatsoever things the law saith, it saith to them that are under the law, that every mouth may be stopped and the whole world become guilty before God." It is by " whatsoever things the law saith," that its power to convict the sinner is displayed. The legitimate and pro per operation of this power is " to those who are under the law ;" and so extensive will be seen this proper operation of the law, " that every mouth will be stopped, and the whole world will become guilty before God," or come under the judgment of God, justly forfeited and condemned. This convincing power of the law is either shown in the salutary awakening of the sinner in his day of grace, that he may be brought to Christ for lifey or in the final arousing of his con science in the day of judgment, that he may acknowledge the justice of his own condemnation. In one or the other of these conditions, the mouth of every sinner in the universe shall be stopped ; and under an irresistible conviction, he shall be compelled to acknowledge himself guilty before God. The power of the law to convince the sinner in his day of frace, that he may be saved by his acceptance of the Lord esus, is the subject to which I would direct your attention at this time. The law is the great instrument which the spirit of God employs to convince men of sin ; and in his hands it is declared to be living and powerful, and sharper than a two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder the soul and spirit; laying open to view the most secret pur poses and plans of the inner man ; and discerning or sepa rating, for the purpose of clearer exhibition, the thoughts and intents of the heart. In this process of conviction, the law is altogether an in strument of the Holy Ghost. In itself, it is to the conscience of the transgressor a mere dead letter, because his eyes are so blinded that he will not see its impartial records ; and like the deaf adder, he stops his ears that he may not hear that which it testifies against his soul. This refusal to behold and listen, the spirit of God overcomes ; and putting life and re sistless power into the declarations ofthe law, he breaks down all the sinner's strong holds of pride and self-confidence, and crushes his rebellious spirit into the dust of humiliation and conscious ruin. Though without this spiritual application of the law he may be alive and boastful in himself, when the commandment comes with the attendant power of the Holy Ghost, sin revives in all its awful, deadly and destructive features, shows itself to his conscience, without disguise, in its own hideous form ; and he, .under the clear apprehension of its guilt, and the danger which attends it, dies ; lies pow erless at the feet of Jesus, and yields himself to the new creation of his grace. I. By the instrumentality of " whatsoever things the law saith," the Holy Spirit convinces the sinner of the guilt of his past trangressions. We have already seen that the law claims entire, perpetual and spotless obedience. It de scribes the holiest of possible character, and demands the conformity of the whole man to that. In the exercise of its convincing power, it reveals this true character of itself to the sinner's understanding, and compels him to acknowledge it ; and then comparing the obliquity and defects of his own character with its strictness and purity, laying down a rule perfectly straight and unbending upon the crookedness of all his conduct, it gives him thus a knowledge of sin. It com municates a knowledge both ofthe nature of sin in itself, as a transgression of this law, and of the existence of it, in an ag gravated degree, in his own character and life. You have naturally no disposition to attend to the things which the law saith. In reply to its holy and inflexible demands, your hearts are ready to say, " Not so ; be that far from thee to condemn the righteous with the wicked." But it is the truth, that the law lays the most awful charges of guilt against your souls ; and in the operation of it, to which I now refer,it convinces you of their justice. It searches into your character, and shows you to be, by nature and voluntary habit, a mass of corruption and sin ; having the whole head sick, and the whole heart faint. It charges you with having spent the time which the divine forbearance has allowed you on earth, in an open defiance ofthe great God of heaven. It ac cuses you of presumptuous sins committed against warning and knowledge ; of relapsing into them against vows, and protestations, and prayers ; of rushing by all the admonitions and entreaties of your own conscience, in the determination of your sin. It accuses you of sins of inadvertence and ig norance, utterly without number; of allowing days to without consideration or reflection; of crowding to- Vol. II.— B gether the greater part of your lives, without pondering what you do, or caring whether you do well of ill. t It accuses of secret sins of thought and desire, lite/ally like the ocean's sand ; sins which, though they are concealed from the cog nizance of the world, are open and naked to him with whom you have to do ; sins which pass you like the motes that play upon the sunbeam, and elude all your exertion to ex amine or pursue them. It accuses you of the habitual omission of holy duties ; of negligence of God and his re quirements; of restraining the voice of prayer, and refusing the offerings of praise.* It accuses you of total deficiency in the spirit of those duties which you have undertaken to per form ; of dullness, formality and hypocrisy in your apparent approaches to the service of God. It accuses you beyond all acts of omission or commission, of that which they infallibly indicate, a natural state of sin ; a nature of rebellion ; a foun tain in your hearts, of aversion to God ;- a state of character and life, in which every feeling and purpose partakes of the universal bitterness, and is sinful and worthy of condemna tion ; from which there has never proceeded in the minutest br most infantile shape, one good thing. These are the charges which the law makes against you, as constituting the guilt of your past transgressions ; arid with these, by the quickening power, of the Holy Spirit, it convinces you of sin. ¦ II. By " whatsoever thirfgs the law saith," the spirit con vinces the sinner of his exposure to the wrath of Almighty God, and of his danger of eternal death. The divine law has guarded itself against all violations, by the most import ant and solemn sanctions. While it promises life everlasting as the result of everlasting obedience, it denounces eternal death as the inevitable consequence of eternal sin. It pro claims an unspeakably awful curse upon every soul of man that doeth evil, and because every man living is born a sin ner, and grows and matures in sin, this curse, in all its ter ror, is laid upon every soul of man. The sinner's condemna tion is not a future matter. He is condemned already ; and although, like a convict in his cell, there is a respite yet allowed before the execution of his sentence, still his case is to be regarded as disposed of; no new act of authority is re quired for his punishment ; his time is fixed, and he is only to be let alone until it shall arrive. The state of an uncon verted sinner is a state of condemnation and wrath. There are many of you who may be ignorant of this ; nay, perhaps, who may feel disposed to deny it. But this is one of those things which the law saith, and in the exercise of its con vincing power upon the conscience, it makes you acquainted with this solemn and all-important fact, that you are con demned already, and the wrath of God is abiding on you. It shows you, that although prosperity and wealth, and ease and honour, may be allowed to decorate your passing hours here, your final destiny, while you remain under the law, is never theless fixed ; there is a curse rolling forward upon your souls which will sink you into eternal ruin. While the law con vinces you of your real character, as sinners, it fastens this acknowledgment upon your minds, that for you, in this cha racter, there remains, " the fearful expectation of judgment and fiery indignation," which will consume you, as the ad versaries of God. It shows you, that all your past blessings are no proof of God's acceptance of your souls ; that although he has sustained you, with much forbearance, you were still "vessels of wrath fitted for destruction." In the hour of conviction, it lays open before you the solemn fact, that you have been the enemies of a God who has said, " Vengeance is mine, I will repay." It shows you that you are, with the utmost reason, condemned to everlasting death, and that it would be altogether right and just in God to cast you finally from his presence, and to refuse the exercise of mercy to your souls. It lays down before you the long chain of sins to which reference has been already made, and attaches to every individual in the series an everlasting curse, and then bids you to look at your condition, and see what hope you have of escape from the damnation of hell. I pray you to observe that this conviction of your exposure to God's holy indigna tion, is only the revelation of a fact of which you were be fore entirely ignorant.. The law saith, " There is none that doeth good — no, not one ; they have all sinned ; they have all become abominable." Then it saith, " Cursed be every one that sinneth against God." " Let wrath come upon them, and let them go down quick into hell, for I have seen iniquity in them all." Of this condition of ruin in which transgress ion of the law has placed you, in your state of native care lessness, you are entirely ignorant. The convincing power of the law, of which I now speak, does not make the fact of your danger, but it unveils your eyes, and compels you to 10 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. see it. Under the operation of this power, though you groan in anguish, you are no more in condemnation than you were before, when you were thoughtless and gay ; but you have been made to see and consider dangers to which you were before voluntarily blinded, and the sight of your previous ac tual condition, over which you have long slept in heedless ness, will now, under this convincing power of the law, fill you with apprehension and grief. III. The law, with the attending power of the Spirit, con vinces the sinner of the utter impossibility of his ever ob taining justification before God, on the ground of his own works. This fact the apostle declares in the verse immedi ately following the text, " Therefore, by the deeds of the law, shall no flesh be justified in his sight, for by the law is the knowledge of sin." The law teaches no other know ledge than this. A knowledge of paTdon and salvation must be acquired from some other source. The convinced sinner sees this utter impossibility, and while he is obliged to ac knowledge his guilt, and to confess his just exposure to wrath, for his transgressions, he finds himself compelled to lay down all hope of working out any righteousness for him self. He cannot obtain acceptance by his obedience to the law, for the law shows him the total imperfection of any obedience which he can render. He cannot be justified by making satisfaction for his disobedience, for the law shows him again, that no satisfaction can be received, short of the penalty threatened, which is everlasting death; so that to hope for life, by satisfying and recompensing divine justice for his offences, is simply to hope for salvation by being damned. This twofold impossibility he sees demonstrated to his conscience beyond the power of denial. To this great end, the convincing power of the law will operate upon your consciences. When it has thus brought you to despair in yourselves, by showing you your unspeakable dangers, and your utter inability to find a remedy in yourselves, by any thing which you can do or suffer, it has finished its work. There it must leave you, in this horror of great darkness, un til the Holy Spirit, who, by this ministry of the -law, has convinced you of sin, shall, by the gracious ministry of the gospel, convince you of a perfect and sufficient righteousness laid up for you in Jesus Christ. This is the conviction which the Spirit of God produces, by " whatsoever things the law saith ;" and until the law has wrought with this convincing power upon your con sciences, all preaching of Jesus Christ to you is utterly vain. Until you are thoroughly awakened to acknowledge the facts to which the law calls your notice, you will never turn, with a godly sorrow for sin, to embrace the offers of mercy which the gospel holds out to your acceptance. You will wrap yourselves in your own carnal confidence, and see no need of looking after any other righteousness than your own. You will think yourselves whole, and will, therefore, refuse the physician. You will be blind to danger, and deride the pro posal of salvation. But upon whom is this convincing power of the law to operate % The text declares, " whatsoever things the law saith, it saith to them that are under the law." In the con nexion in which the apostle uttered this assertion, it was to prove the guilt of those persons who were supposed to be in possession of the greatest privileges. The Jews, who were in every sense " under the law," were perfectly ready to ac knowledge the truth of the broadest statements of sinfulness, when applied to the Gentiles, but were disposed to deny the proper application of the same statements to themselves. In opposition to their personal assumption, the apostle wrote the text ; he argues the reasonable application of all that the law had said, to those to whom the law had been given, and while the law did utter aloud the charge of universal and indis criminate guilt, it certainly designed to direct the charge against those to whom its holy and searching precepts had been communicated. In applying this assertion to the moral law, which we are peculiarly considering, I must unequivo cally assert its appropriation to every human being ; all, with out exception, are born under the inflexible obligations of this sacred law, and the things, therefore, which it saith, belong to the whole family of man. If they applied to Jews, to whom had been given the oracles of God, as well as to Gen tiles, who had been without a revelation, they apply to those to whom these divine oracles are still granted, as much as to the heathen, who are without the knowledge of God. As extensively as the precepts of the law reach upon the earth, do its charges of guilt, and its denunciations of punishment, also go ; and if there be not an individual man who is re leased from the obligation of loving God with all his heart,! there is not an individual who is not justly accused of trans gression, and threatened with punishment for having refused to comply with it, ."For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God ;" nor is there a man who can say, without entire falsehood, " I have made my heart clean ; I am pure from my sin." The proper operation of this convincing power of the law is upon every human being. Its-.broadest accusations, and its most fearful threatenings, belong to every one before me, and none can have the prosjrect of security by pleading an exemption from the charges which it makes. Whatsoever things it says, it says to you. And whether it comes in the power of the precept, or in the terror of the de nunciation, it lays its iron grasp upon your souls, and will hold you to eternity, unless there come to your rescue, a power of grace stronger than the power of wrath. Its object is to convince you of sin ; to show you your entire need of a Sa viour ; to constrain you to throw away all deluding and de structive pleas ; to compel you, in the acknowledgment of your guilt, to cry aloud for the exercise of mercy ; fo send you to the blood of an Almighty Redeemer, as the only foun tain which can be opened for sin and for uncleanness. If its operation upon your consciences, for this purpose, be denied and resisted, its further design is then to convict you before the bar of God ; to compel you there to see your exposure to wrath and eternal woe, and to draw from your own con science the acknowledgment that your condemnation is just. This end and result the apostle declares in the conclusion of our text ; the law says all these things, that " every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world become guilty before God." Now, the mouths of sinners are by no means sealed ; they are every day uttering complaints against the unrea sonable strictness of the divine commandments. You find your natural hearts constantly rebelling against the solemn demands of God : you do not, you cannot acknowledge, that you are bound to such devotion as it requires, or that you are justly charged with guilt, for failing in that, which you find to be so repugnant to your dispositions, that its fulfil ment amounts to an impossibility. You find your hearts inventing a thousand excuses and pleas for your security ; temptation, ignorance, heedlessness, weakness, are all seve rally urged as sufficient reasons why you should be dealt with upon some milder system, and receive a moTe extensive toleration. All these complaints and excuses arise from the want of that conviction, which it is the province of the law to impress upon you. When by the power of the Spirit, with the ministration of the law, you are convinced of sih, your mouths will be sealed. The justice and holiness of God will be so apparent, that you will feel no right to complain though you are condemned. Your own aggravated guilt will be so clearly manifested, that no excuse or extenu ation will occur to your remembrance ; you will lie down before a God of immaculate purity, with a spirit torn and bruised, acknowledging the truth of every accusation, and proclaiming the entire justice of every woe. Whatever may be the character of others, you will feel that shame and confusion of face alone belong to you, and that God is righteous though he taketh vengeance. If this conviction be not awakened in your souls in your day of grace, while it may be salutary and effectual, it will come upon you like a giant aroused from his sleep in the day of judgment; con fusion will cover you in that day when God arises to shake terribly the earth, and to repay vengeance and recompense to all his adversaries. Then, every impenitent and unprofit able servant will be speechless, though he be bound hand and foot and cast into outer and final darkness : while the universe, will proclaim the abiding spotlessness of the judge, who thus solemnly condemns. The final result of this convincing power of the law is, that beside silencing the complaints of every transgressor, " the whole world may become guilty before God," or come under the judgment of God, condemned for sin, and without a claim for the exercise of mercy. The holy law announces its requisitions, and proclairns its sanctions, that it may make room in this world for the exercise of abundant grace, and hereafter display the entire justice of God in, the exer cise .of condemnation. It brings the whole world, and every individual transgressor, under the divine judgment; nothing can be demanded but the wages of sin ; in passing by every sinner, God would not be unjust ; in pardoning and saving one, he is infinitely gracious and merciful. When the sinner is truly convinced, he sees this fact strikingly displayed to his mind. Under such circumstances you will feel that you are justly under condemnation, under the judgment of God, and that there can be no reason found for the extension PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 11 of any compassion to you, but in the unsearchable riches of the i love of God. This conviction will lead you to look to nothing for pardon and rescue, but free and unlimited grace : to throw yourselves altogether upon the mercy and sufficiency of that Being, who has become the end of the law, that he might bring in an everlasting righteousness for you, and in whom God can be just; and the justifier of all who believe in him. When the law works its last and eternal conviction upon the cdnscience of the impenitent, in the day of retribution, this great and final end to which the text points you will be displayed, " The wjiole world will come under the judgment of God." He will be seen to be righteous who judgeth in the earth ; and while not a being has any claim to mercy, and the impenitent and hardened are justly condemned ; he will show, in the free and full redemption of every soul that has fled to Christ for refuge, how, in his own appointed and glorious way, mercy can rejoice against judgment, and grace accomplish what the law must leave undone forever. LECTURE V. THE CONDEMNING POWER OF THE LAW. The law worketh wrath. — Roicurs rv. 15. The whole subject of the present discourse is presented in the declaration of this text. It- is the condemning power of the divine law. We are now to consider the law as standing forth, to warn men against itself; we are to regard it as pro claiming to every sinner who is Seeking after salvation, "it is not in me ;" we are to speak of that aspect of its character, which occasions it to be called " a fieTy law," a " ministra tion of condemnation," and a "ministration of death." Let it he distinctly understood, that the whole power of the law here referred to, has accrued from the apostacy of man. For man, as an innocent being, it was ordained unto life. Its one grand requisition of implicit and total submission to the will of the Creator, was written upon his heart ; and whether that controlling will of God prohibited the eating of an apple, or the crime of murder, the necessity of obedience and the guilt of transgression were not in any degree altered. This law, to a holy and obedient man, would have wrought life and happiness, as it does to the pure spirits of heaven. But to a fallen man, it works nothing but wrath. In the violation of its one grand requisition, Adam and his pos terity fell into ruin and guilt. " By one man's disobedience many were made sinners." " By the offence of one, many died, and judgment came upon all men, to condemnation." This violated law is the covenant under which every child of man is born into the world: it rolls down its sentence of death for past transgression, from generation to generation, at the same time that it does not relax in any degree the obli gation of its demands. Every infant of the race is exposed From his birth to the awful penalty of this broken covenant, as much as Adam was in the moment of his sin, and is still bound to render the full obedience which its precepts de mand, as much as Adam would have been, if he had never sinned. Every unconverted sinner remaining still " a child of wrath," remains under the two-fold pressure, which is here referred to, of a penalty, the endurance of which is intolerable, and of a requisition, the fulfilment of which is impossible. Christ Jesus the end of the law for righteous ness, offers the only refuge from the wrath which the law thus works, and every man who is rejecting Christ Jesus from his heart, is voluntarily choosing to abide under a cove nant which works, and can work, nothing but wrath. " Tell me, then, you who desire to be under the law, do you not hear the law ?" Does it say any thing to you, but " do this, and thou shalt live?" Does it set before you any alterna tive, but " Cursed be he that continued! not in all things, yhich are written in the book of the law, to do them ?" Has it any other terms than this ? " Do this," this wrath- working law proclaims ; do it all, all without exception, con tinue in it from first to last, and you shall live. But a curse, an everlasting curse, awaits you if you offend in any one par ticular; plead what you will, its denunciations are utterly irreversible:' " I wish to obey it," you may say, and it answers you, " Tell me not of your wishes, but do it." " I have endeavoured to obey." Tell me of no endeavours, but do it, or you are cursed." " I have done it in almost every particular." " Tell me not of what you have done almost, have you obeyed it altogether ? Have you obeyed it in all things ? If not, you are cursed." " I have for a greatnumber of years obeyed it, and but once only, through inadvertence, have I transgressed." " Then you are cursed ; if you have offended in one point, you are guilty of all." " But I am sorry for my transgression ;" "I cannot regard your sorrows, you are under a curse." " But I will reform, and never trans gress again." " I care nothing for your reformation, the curse remains upon you." " But I will obey it perfectly in future if I can find mercy." " I have no concern with your determi nations for the future, I know no such word as mercy, I can not alter my terms for any one. If you rise to these terms, you will have a right to life and need no mercy. If you fall short in any one particular, nothing remains for you but ' everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power.' " I pray you to observe, that this is no fancy of mine. St. Paul says, " as many as are of the works of the law," or looking to the law for any ground of hope, a description which includes all men in a natural state, " are under a curse." " All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God." There is no mere human being who has ever obeyed the law ; and, therefore, without an exception, every mouth is stopped; every soul is counted guilty before God, and is under a curse now; condemned already; a curse, which, if the only refuge for the sinner be rejected, must remain on them eternally. This is a plain statement of the demands of the law. And from the utter impossibility that an apostate being should rise to the terms of its inflexible demands, " it works wrath ;" it warns men to flee from itself, and to seek a hope of peace somewhere, where it may be obtained, in consistence with the character of God. This condemning power of the law, this solemn warning which it utters against itself, is manifested in the obedience which it demands, and in the sentence which it passes. 1. If it referred solely to overt and gross acts of transgress ion, it would rather encourage us to cleave to it, for our hope, than dissuade us from abiding by its terms. But such is the spirituality, the exceeding broadness of its character; such is the extent of obedience which it demands, that it charges us with guilt, not only on account of open violations of its commands, but also on account of the defectiveness of out best actions. Suppose that you are at this moment filled with love to God ; does this love rise to the full measure of the precept which requires it? If not, your best moment is a moment of guilt, and a sufficient reason for condemnation. The same may be said in reference to all your best efforts to fulfil the commands of God. The law cannot receive the dis position in place of the act; It makes no toleration for the sincerity of desire, if there be not the utmost fulfilment of the requisition. It is so rigorous in its claims that it admits of no deviation, no weariness, no defect, even for a moment, or under any circumstances, to the very end of life. Thus, in the inexorable character of its claims, it works wrath ; it produces inevitable condemnation, and lifts up its voice in perpetual warning against itself. " Do not think," it says to you, " of obtaining life by me; you see my demands; you see that they can never be relaxed; you see that a curse is denounced against the least transgression ; I can make no abatement on account of your weakness ; I can offer no as sistance for the performance of any one duty ; I can present no hope of mercy; I must have a spotless obedience from first to last; and though there be but a single failure in that, I must testify against the acceptance of the whole ; and will you seek life in me? O fly from me; be afraid to remain one hour under my curse ; escape for your life to him whom I acknowledge to be a Prince and Saviour, able to give re pentance and forgiveness of sins." The terrors of Mount Sinai, and the fence around its base, and the strict injunctions against any attempt to break through and gaze, marked the impossibility of gaining access to God by any way which the law could open. In reference to that illustration, Moses said, "I exceedingly fear and quake;" and much more, in the actual exposure to the reality, may you feel awakened and terrified at the wrath which this holy law thus works. 2. In the sentence which it passes* it still further manifests this destroying power, and warns you to flee from all idea of attaining hope in the personal satisfaction of its claims. The penalty of disobedience in a single deficiency, is ever lasting- death. There is no alternative less than this pre sented by the law. Whatsover things the law saith, it saith to those who are under the law; and reveals indignation and 12 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. wrath, tribulation and anguish upon every soul of man that doth evil ; and then shows that all have sinned or done evil, and corne short of the glory of God. In proclaiming its irreversible sentence, the law asks you the simple question, "Who can dwell with the devouring fire? who can dwell with everlasting burnings?" Thus bringing up every soul of man before God, under the solemn charge of guilt, and then laying the obligation of endurance of its penalty upon every one who hath sinned, the law can work nothing but wrath ; and man might as reasonably seek for rest and shelter in a burning fiery furnace, as seek for life and salvation in his own obedience to the iaw. It is remarkable that the whole body of the Israelites were required to give their cordial assent to this condemning power of the law. When the Levites proclaimed from Mount Ebal, " Cursed be he that continueth not in all the words of this law, to do them," it is added, "and all the people shall say Amen." Be it so, it is right. Some of my hearers have been ready, perhaps, to cry " God forbid," under some of my statements, to imagine that I have overstrained the matter. But I would commend this example to you; and while I make assertions correspondent with the evident revelations of Almighty God, and so conformable to all the sober deduc tions of our own reason, I would hope there may yet be found but one sentiment pervading this whole assembly; and that all, in the way of intellectual acknowledgement, and of cordial approbation, will be ready to cry out, "Amen, amen." Having considered this condemning power of the divine law, and shown how it works wrath, I wish now to point out the connexion which this attribute of the law has with our selves. I have said, that every child of man is born under the curse of this law, as a matter of unavoidable inheritance. But beyond this, I now assert that every unconverted man, every one who has not yielded himself to the spiritual dominion of the Lord Jesus Christ, is labouring to obtain salvation by his obedience to the law. All men by nature, being ignorant of God's righteousness, attempt to establish a righteousness of their own, and in the refusal to submit to the righteousness of God, thus expose themselves to all the wrath which the law can work. This connexion you all have with this vitally important subject. The moment in which you turn to any thing which you have done, as a ground of hope and justification, you choose this for your covenant, and be come debtors to do the whole law ; and then there is presented to you the simple choice of perfect and perpetual obedience, or chains of everlasting darkness. This disposition to rest upon the works of the law, you will find all persons to be indulging who are not spiritually united to Christ. There are some who look for their justification altogether upon the ground of their own works ; they cannot understand why good works should be required at all, if they are not to obtain our acceptance with God. And when the assertion is made, that our own obedience does not in any degree operate to procure our justification, they suppose that we set good works altogether aside, and encourage all manner of licen tiousness. These persons throw themselves altogether upon the law ; agree to abide by its terms ; expose themselves to the utmost of its claims ; and voluntarily assume the whole amount of wrath which it has power to work. There are others who see and acknowledge that some honour is due to Christ, and that from his being called a Saviour, we must stand indebted to him in some manner, in , part at least, for our salvation. They will assert, therefore, a partial dependance upon Christ, and try to connect his atonement with their own obedience. The utter impossibility of such an expedient they do not see. The one makes void the other. Their salvation must be altogether of grace, or alto gether of works. The attempt to unite them, only forms a system, like the feet of Nebuchadnezzar's image, part of iron and part of clay, which can sustain no weight, and consti tutes a totally insufficient foundation. These persons, in the rejection of a free redemption through unassisted grace, lay themselves down beneath the whole burden of the law; and not being able to produce the perfect obedience which it re quires, for them the law worketh wrath. There are others who think they must do something for themselves; and therefore they enter into a kind of compo sition or agreement with the Lord of all, that they will render him obedience, if he will bestow upon them salvation. They do not expressly unite their merits with his, but they make their own obedience the ground upon which they confide in him, the reason for the trust which they affect to place in him. They do not remember that they have no obedience to bring; that they have nothing but sin and misery to lay down before him; and thus they do not feel that their total depend ance must be in sovereign and all conquering grace; thatthey must receive a salvation entirely without money and without Pr'ce* • TH. There are others who refine still more than this. They ', think themselves willing to give all the glory of their salva tion to Christ; but they want some warrant, some argument for believing in him. They are not willing to take the ful ness of the provision, and the freeness of the promise, for this warrant, but they must find it in themselves. They will either say, that they dare not go to him, because they are so vile; and therefore they will endeavour to make themselves better before they venture into his presence, and indulge the hope of his acceptance ; or else, that they have a good hope of his acceptance and mercy, because they have never trans gressed the bounds of human infirmity, or have truly repented of their faults. The result of all these delusions is the same. They throw the sinner wholly back upon the claims of the law. Salvation must be all of grace, or all of works. Any attempt to blend the two, in any measure, destroys the whole idea of grace, and exposes to the demand of perfect works, under the alternative of endless wrath upon their failure. This is your connexion with this subject. If you do not come as poor and outcast and perishing, to the atoning sacri fice and the justifying obedience of the Lord Jesus Christ* you must stand by the law and meet its requisitions. If you are riot willing freely to accept the work of a perfect surety offered in the covenant, of grace, you must, in your own per sons, fulfil the utmost demands or bear the eternal penalty of the covenant of works. The terms of this covenant you can not, in any degree, alter ; you must come up to the full of its demands, or it works for you nothing but wrath. Let this consideration lead you, with St. Paul, to seek earnestly and only to be found in Christ, not having your own righteous ness, which is of the law, but the righteousness which is of God, by faith in Christ; and to count every thing but loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of him. If this connexion of our ourselves with the condemning power ofthe law be a fact; if it be true that it works wrath to an extent so universal, 0 what deep humiliation of soul becomes you all, in view of its claims ! What an amount of curses it suspends over the sinner's devoted head ! You must not look solely to your outward transgressions of the com mands, your grosser violations of precepts, as reasons for God's righteous anger. The wrath of God is revealed against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men. Your defects expose you as much as your violations to condemnation, and every omission, as well as every positive disobedience, will receive its just recompense of reward. -If, then, it should be granted that your lives are blameless, so far as regards outward violations of God's authority, still your in iquities have grown over your heads ; your sins are utterly innumerable. In comparison with many of your fellow-men, who have suffered the punishment of trampling upon human laws, your characters may appear exemplary and worthy; and such, men may think you ; but in the sight of God the difference between you is small. He may behold in you less gross iniquity, but see it far more than counterbalanced by an abundant measure of spiritual sins, by no means less hateful in his sight. Suppose it had all been true which ; the self-righteous Pharisee asserted of himself, that he had • been no extortioner or adulterer ; did not his hateful pride, his self-complacency, his uncharitableness, more than compen sate for that ? If he had tried himself by a proper standard he would have found but little reason for his self-preference above the contrite Publican ; he would have seen, that had all been true which he had asserted, the simple difference be tween them was, that the one was a painted sepulchre, and the other a sepulchre without paint. I do not assert that gross outward transgressions add nothing to a man's guilt ; but that in the absence of these, God may see spiritual trans gression in the heart, more than enough to supply their place. The point to which the attention must be directed to produce true humiliation, is the defectiveness of our best services. Look upon this deep deficiency in duty; behold it in its agr gravated character, as against a God of infinite love and mercy ; against a God who has assumed our nature and laid down his life for us; against a God who has been interceding with our hearts, to guide us aright, and to lead us to repentance. Behold it also against light and knowledge, against vows and resolutions, against judgments and mercies, and continued in without repentance or shame for many years. Behold it as a proud rejection of the boundless love of a crucified Sa viour; as a bold and persevering determination to stand upon PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 13 your own ground, and to claim salvation upon your own merits, and you will see that the law reasonably works for you nothing but wrath ; that your guilt must sink you into everlasting perdition, if God do not interpose in the multitude of his mercies, and cause his grace to superabound, where sins have so fearfully abounded. Behold the aspect under which this condemning law brings out your character, and you will see that to call yourselves the chief of sinners, is not merely a humble expression, which, though it sounds well upon the lips, need not be felt in the heart, but is the real character which belongs to you all, since the very best man among you must know far more evil of himself than he can know of any other individual, and see a depth of guilt in his own heart, concealed from the knowledge ofthe world, which, were it exposed to public view, would overwhelm him with total degradation. If you will fairly bring up your character to the trial of this condemning power of the law, you will see yourselves ex posed to God's heaviest judgments, no less than the most flagrant transgressors in the world. You will feel obliged to cry for mercy, as Peter did when sinking in the waves, "Lord save me, or I perish." Others who have different views of what God demands, may wonder and say, " What can you have done to call for such humiliation and distress ?" But you will know your own deserts, taste the bitterness of your own sins, and feel compelled to lie down before a holy, God in the deepest self-abasement. O that you could be brought to this state of mind ; to have it as a settled principle in your judgments while the mir ror of God's requirements is held up to you, that by the woTks of the law no man living can be justified. O listen to this law, though it works nothing but wrath. If its warnings are alarming to you, they are indispensable ; and surely it is better that you should be warned in season, that your house is built upon the sand, than be suffered to perish in its ruins. Should I know your danger, and utter no warn ing, I should be accessary to your ruin. It is a fatal delusion which shuts your hearts against the acceptance of a Saviour, who is the end of this fiery law, for righteousness to your souls. There is no other hope presented to you ; but this is presented. And while the law drives you thus away from itself, hum bled, guilty and condemned, it does not thrust you upon an ocean of uncertainty, to find by chance, where you can, a re medy for your disease and a satisfaction for your want. It ac knowledges a righteousness in your anointed substitute com mensurate with its utmost demands. It bids you seek to him and live. It tells you of a Saviour who can preach glad tidings, though it cannot. This has been my present object, ..to show you that there was no dependance to be placed in your own obedience, and no hope to be offered you in the law. The law offers nothing but a curse ; and yet all the unconverted among men are still seeking salvation in this cursed The gospel of Jesus brings a full salvation, and yet the same sinners are rejecting all the mercy which it pre sents. I ask your serious thoughtfulness to be directed to the subject now presented to you ; and if you can be per suaded to listen to the warnings which the law utters against itself in the condemnation and wrath which it works, your minds will be prepared to consider it with me next as a guide to him who is able to save unto the uttermost, all who come unto God through him. LECTURE VI. THE LAW A GUIDE TO CHRIST. Wherefore the law was our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith..— Gaiatians hi. 24. The subject which we are now to consider, is one upon which we may enter with delight, as in every respect congenial to the feelings of a redeemed soul. There has been an unavoidable aspect of severity in the views of the law, which have been previously presentecTto your minds. But this severe appearance of its demands will serve to ren der the more cheering and valuable our reflections upon the great object of proper love and adoration who is now brought before you, as the chill and darkness of the night which is just passing away prepares us to welcome the rising of the sun with the greater gladness. To meditate and to speak of Christ, is delightful to those who appreciate his worth ; and to be able to lead the hearts of the sinful children of men to a cordial acceptance of his redemption, and to a free submission to his power, more than compensates for the unpleasant se verity by which their minds need often to be awakened to an acknowledgment of their necessities. The interesting subject now before us, is the guiding power of the divine law to lead our hearts to Christ. The illustration in which the apostle presents this subject to us, in connexion with our text, has great force. He argues from the total im possibility that any law should be given to a fallen being which could bestow life, the necessity and value of that system of redemption which the gospels reveals by faith in Jesus Christ. He then considers the condition of all those in whose hearts this life-giving faith had not been produced, as one in which no alternative was presented to them but this, or ruin. He represents the law as a jailor, under whose power they were fast shut up, for this alternative. The law was added because of transgressions. It was not designed to give life to a fallen being, or to be in any way the friend of sinners. It imprisoned all under the bondage of sin, and allowed no avenue of escape but that which grace opened in Jesus Christ. Before this great object of faith came, men were thus universally imprisoned under the law. Every door was fast barred, and. every one was, to remain so but the single one, which opened upon the satisfaction of Christ. They were shut up unto the faith which should afterwards be revealed, as their only alternative to perpetual imprison ment. Thus the law, closing every other way of escape, and dealing with its captives with great severity, became a kind of schoolmaster or guide, to bring them unto Christ, that they who could not be justified by works might be justified by faith ; and when this door of grace opened upon them, as it were of itself, and the divine messenger of mercy loosed their chains and bade them go in peace, while the keeper be came as a dead man ; then, except they remained voluntarily in their captivity, they were no longer under this school master ; no longer under the law, buf under grace. This is the course of the apostle's argument, in which he introduces the assertion of the text. 1. In considering this guiding power ofthe law, the views of the law, which have been already presented, must be borne in mind. It must be remembered, that the law can never be set aside. It is as unalterable as the character of God himself. It is holy, and can never abate of its commands. It is just, and can never mitigate its sanctions. It is good, and must eternally continue so, whatever may become of those who are subject to its dominion. In every thing which it re quires, its direct tendency is to promote the honour of God and the happiness of man ; and if it become an occasion of unhappiness to any, it is only through their own perverse ness in violating its commands. Immutable in its constraint, it says to all, " The curse which I have denounced must be inflicted ; the commands which I have given must be obeyed. If there be any person found to endure the one for you, and to fulfil the other in your stead', and God Most High be pleased to accept a substitute in your behalf, it is well. But without such a regard to my right and my honour, no man liv ing shall be saved. I must be magnified and made honourable. My integrity and faithfulness must be shown before the whole- creation, or no sinner shall find acceptance before him from whom I proceeded, and whose authority I must maintain." The law thus, as it were, puts us upon a search for some sufficient Saviour. It leads us to look at the demands which it makes upon us ; and when we are convinced of the unal terable character of those demands, and see the impossibility of our complying with them, we are directed to the inquiry, if there can be a possibility of finding an adequate substitute. It 'is not my object to consider the text in its application to those who lived before the actual appearance of the Saviour on the earth. I wish to present the whole matter in the light of personal application to individuals among ourselves, and to consider the present habitual operation of the law as the sinner's guide to Christ. Considered in this light, it makes its personal demands upon us, by a compliance with which it promises us acceptance. It tells us honestly and candidly, that if we can undergo the full punishment which it requires for our past transgressions, we shall be accounted free from guilt, and allowed to set out again in our attempts to obey the divine commands ; and then, if we can offer a full and perfect obedience to the precepts which it sets before us, we shall be considered righteous, and be justified and accepted upon the ground of our own righteousness. When our consciences have become convinced of the folly of any 14 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. exertions to work out such a righteousness for ourselves as this, then it tells us, if we can find such a satisfaction and such an obedience in any one who will be the surety for our souls, its claims may be answered. But when the law has thus put us upon looking out for a Saviour, we ask at once : Where can one be found who is capable of thus ful filling its requisitions ? one who can bear infinite wrath, and accomplish a spotless obedience ? And above all, where shall we find one who is ready to do this for, us ? A creature, though he were an archangel, would sink under the everlast ing wrath of God. Any creature would be himself as much subject as we to the divine commands, and therefore could only obey for himself. He would be bound to fulfil all that the law has enjoined. He could do nothing beyond his ab solute duty. He would therefore be in the end an unprofit able servant. He could never obey for others, for he could not exceed what was due from himself ; so that no created being could become such a substitute as the law would ac cept. The only thing under such circumstances that could give the slightest hope to man, would be for God himself, the only being competent to answer the demand, to come as the substitute for sinners ; and in their nature to suffer and obey for them. Were this possible, there might indeed be a hop^e, because the dignity of the sufferer would put a value on his sufferings sufficient to overbalance the eternal sufferings of the whole world ; and the obedience paid by one who was under no obligations to obey, would form a justifying righ teousness sufficient for all the sinners of mankind. This would be sufficient, were it possible ; but how can such a thingbe contemplated for a moment? Is it probable ? Is it pos sible ? Possible or not, the law shuts us up to the attainment of this or death. It says decidedly, " I can consent to no lower terms than these. Suppose such a plan to be sanc tioned, approved and executed by the Almighty himself, then I can consent to the salvation of sinners ; yea, I should not only consent, but highly approve of it, because the satis faction and obedience of the living God will glorify me in finitely more than either the obedience or the condemnation of the whole human race. Let such a plan as this be made and executed by the Creator, and I agree that you shall be saved by it and receive a weight of glory, which your own obe dience never could have deserved. Let a door like this be opened to you, and I can hold you imprisoned no longer ; but until it is so, you are still shut up under the impossibility of obtaining salvation." Thus the law acts as a guide to bring us unto Christ, by awakening our expectations, and putting us upon the inquiry for a Saviour competent for our wants. It prepares our minds to hear the glad tidings of the gospel, and to look with amazement and thankfulness into its glorious revelations. It prepares us to rejoice in the faithful sayings, that " God was manifest in the flesh ;" " made in all things like unto us, sin only excepted;" that "he hath borne our sins, in his own body, on the tree," and " become obedient unto death," and been raised for our justification," that he might "become the Lord our Righteousness," and that we might be found in him, having the righteousness of God, by faith in Jesus Christ. By leading our minds to look altogether to this quarter for a way of escape from the captivity in which we are held, the law becomes a guide to Christ, and when this door of grace is opened, and the light of eternal day shines into our prisons, we are ready to arise and follow the herald of peace and se curity with the utmost gladness and speed. . 2. Again, the law acts as our guide to Christ, by showinor us how we must go to him to obtain an interest in his re demption. It exhibits to us our real character and condition, showing us that we are, in fact, sold under sin^ in a state of entire bondage, without any thing to offer for our own re demption, and without ability to do any thing for our own rescue. It holds up plainly to us the great truth, that our salvation must be all of grace, the fruit of overflowing com passion, having no reference to any worth in us in our state of captivity, or to any thing we shall do for our Deliverer, after our release. When this door of faith is opened to us, and Christ calls us to the liberty of the gospel, the law tells us, with fidelity, " you must not attempt to recommend yourselves to him by any works whatever. You must arise and go to him ignorant, that you may be enlightened ; guilty, that you maybe pardoned; polluted, that you maybe purified; en slaved, that you may receive a free and full redemption. You must carry nothing to him but your wants and miseries, and expect nothing from him but as the result of his own previous purposes of grace, and the free gift of God, for his sake. You must renounce, and count as worthless, every thing of your own, and desire to have him made unto you, all in all, your wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption; that throughout eternity you may glory in the LoTd alone. If you entertain the idea of earning any thing by your own obedience, you will only come back to me and remain under my imprisonment, to be dealt with accord-. ing to the terms which I have proposed. You must disclaim all thought of this, and be content to be saved by grace alone, to receive every thing from that fulness which is laid up in Christ. This is a way of salvation, both suited to you, and, honourable to God. It is suited to you, because it provides for those who are ruined, every thing, as a free gift. It is honourable to God, because, while it preserves my integrity unviolated, it exalts and glorifies every perfection of the Deity. Flee then by the open door which is set before you. Flee to the everlasting covenant which God the Son has es tablished by his own blood. Believe in him. Look to him as the procuring cause of all your blessings.. Be not dis couraged by any conviction of your own unworthiness, but go to him as the chief of sinners, that you may be made the, brightest monument of his grace.- He came to call sinners to repentance, to seek and to save that which was lost, to preach deliverance to the captives, and to set at liberty them, that were bound. The more deeply you feel your need of him, the more readily will he receive you to the arms of his mercy. He stands at the door and knocks. He calls to you, " Gome unto me, all that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." " Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." " Whosoever cometh unto me, I will by no means cast him out." The law thus shows ydu, in your bondage, both the neces sity that some way of salvation altogether by grace shall be laid open to you, and the method in which you must become interested in this gracious salvation when it is revealed. It tells you of the necessity of some Almighty substitute, and of the dependant and suppliant manner in which you must apply for his mercy, and appropriate his work to your souls. Thus it prepares you to hear and receive the revelation of that great fact which constitutes the gospel, that such a sub stitute has been found ; that he has finished the work of re demption which was necessary, and having made all things ready for your salvation, invites every sinner to become a partaker of his mercy. In this way the law acts as a guide to the gospel, as a schoolmaster to bring you unto Christ. 3. The law further manifests its guiding power by showing- you how you must maintain an interest in his redemption. ) " That we might be justified by faith." The great want of I a rebel sinner, who is under the condemnation of the law, is ' of a justification before God. The idea of justification, in cludes in it a pardon for past transgressions which shall re store the sinner to the condition of an innocent man, though a man without merit ; and a title or right to future blessedness and reward which must arise, and can only arise from a per fect obedience to the commands of God. In order that a sinner may be justified, the law shows this twofold righteousness to be necessary. He must have this to present before God. Now to be justified by words, would require that we, ourselves, had personally accomplished this righteousness of satisfaction and obedience which is de manded. If this could be done, we should have whereof to glory; we should be independent of every other being; heaven would be ours by legal right ; there 'could be no room for the exercise of grace, nor could God justly deny what we fairly deserved by our own obedience. The law, in the exercise of its convincing power, shows the impossibility of this ground of hope. But still our condition is not changed ; our want is the same; we must be justified, or we must be condemned. If we cannot be justified by works, is there any other way in which we can attain this desired end ? Yes. The law brings us unto Christ that we may be justified by faith. To be justified, or to be pardoned and rewarded by faith, does not mean that faith is received in the place of a perfect obedience, and is itself regarded as a sufficient righr teousness. Faith is not the matter or reason of our justifica: tion. But it is the instrument or means which conveys to us and makes our 'Own, the perfect righteousness of our Great Surety, a righteousness which more than answers every de mand of the law of God. How then does the law guide us to this justification ? Why, it says to us, " You must have a perfect satisfaction of my penalties, and a perfect obedience of my precepts, oryou cannot be justified. This satisfaction and obedience you can never accomplish for yourselves ; therefore by the works of the law shall no flesh living be justified. I PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 15 can never save you, either in whole, or in part. Cease, therefore, to look to me for that which I can never bestow upon you. But white you can never obtain this end for yourselves, there is one who has done every thing for you. He has a righteous ness to be bestowed freely upon you, perfectly commensurate with my demands. Procure his righteousness to be imputed to you, to be made yours. Obtain a title to his obedience, which he is ready to give you without money and without price, and you will be able to present to God all that I can ask, and be fully and eternally justified before him. Believe in him, and this perfect righteousness of his shall be made yours forever. You well know how a branch receives every thing from the stock into which it has been engrafted ; pre cisely thus must you receive from him the blessings which he offers. You must, by faith, abide in him, and you shall be freely accepted before God. The law thuS unalterably de manding a perfect fulfilment of all its requisitions, before a sinner can be justified, and at the same time pointing to the Lord Jesus Christ, whose everlasting righteousness is to be imputed to us, and made ours by the instrumentality of faith, becomes our schoolmaster, or guide, to lead us unto Christ, that we may be justified by faith ; and when, in the accepts ance of the tidings of the gospel, this faith has come to our souls as the instrument of our attaining an acceptable right eousness, the law sets us entirely at liberty ; we are no longer under a schoolmaster ; we are no longer in bondage ; but be ing justified by faith, we have peace with God, ^through our Lord Jesus Christ, and the law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus, or the gospel which brings the spirit of life to our souls, has made us free from the law of sin and death ; the law which could give no knowledge but sin, and pay no wages but death, and we are to stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free. And now, that you have seen the guiding power of the law, and heard the instructions which this schoolmaster gives, let me intreat you to take him as your guide to life. There are other teachers who will speak to you in far milder terms, and accommodate their 'statements much more to your carnal minds. They will tell you of the value of your good works, of the mercy of God, of the lowered terms of obedience which the Saviour has introduced ; but I beseech you, listen not to them ; they will deceive you to your eternal ruin. A dependance, however partial, upon your own obedience, will destroy your souls. For, establish whatever standard you may, and try yourselves by it, and you will find that your own system concludes you under sin. Which of you has, from his earliest youth, acted up fully to the light which he has enjoyed, and done every thing which he knew, or believed to be required of him ? Nay, which of you would dare to stand by this trial, and allow his everlasting destiny to be determined by it, for even a single day of his life ? There are many not able to endure sound doctrine, who will deceive you by such hopes as this, and persuade you that your salva tion must, after all, be in part by your own works. Such de lusions are fatal beyond expression. There is no salvation to be derived, in any degree, from your own obedience. The utmost attainments in personal holiness which you may ac quire, are of no value in the estimation of the law. They can purchase nothing from God. Nay, so far are you from obtaining salvation by your own holiness, that you have no holiness of character until you have renounced this vain ground of hope, and fled to Christ as your only refuge, that you may be justified because found in him. All your possi ble obedience to God results from this vital union with Christ, in which you are justified. Before you are thus ac cepted, there is not a single aspect of your character which does not exhibit rebellion against God. You never do or can obey until salvation has visited your souls, in your cordial acceptance of the Lord our righteousness ; and then you are accepted before God, not with the least reference to any thing in yourselves, but solely because he has paid the penalty, and fulfilled the precepts of the law for you. O, that God may be graciously pleased to impress these truths upon your minds ! to open your hearts to receive the things which are spoken in the word of truth ! Your na tural state is one of utter ruin. Your condition was fairly re presented in the case of the Israelites, bitten by the fiery ser pents. You are incapable of restoring yourselves to health, or of finding a healing balm throughout the universe. Death is sweeping you off, in swift succession, and, alas ! whither is it bearing you ? What is to be the result of your rebellion ? But why ? Is there no remedy ? In the case referred to, see the remedy. Let Moses be your guide to Christ. By God's command he erected the brazen serpent, and proclaimed throughout the host the joyful tidings, that whosoever would look upon it should be saved. The opportunity was gladly embraced by multitudes who were perishing, and the promise was fulfilled to them. This day is this transaction renewed in the midst of a congregation of dying sinners. You are all perishing from the wounds of sin. There is not a crea ture in the universe who can render you the least assistance towards a recovery from your condition of ruin. J3ut the Lord Jesus Christ is set forth openly among you, as cruci fied for your sins ; and the law itself directs your hearts to him, as the great appointed way for your jsalvation. This hour would this instructor bring your souls to him, that they may be justified by faith. As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so hath the Son of man been lifted up, that whosoever believeth in him might not perish, but have eternal life. Behold the eternal Son of God, lifted up upon the cross, bearing the burden of your sins, bruised for your iniquities, made a curse under the law, for your souls. Hear his gracious invitations : " Look upon me and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth, for I am God, and there is none else." " There is no Saviour besides me." Hear the law and the gospel uniting in one annunciation to you : " Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and you shall be saved." " AJ1 that believe in him shall be justified from all things." "In the Lord shall all the seed of Israel be justified and glory." O, throw away your garments of self-righteousness and come to him. Come miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked, and lay yourselves down before his feet, to find a free salva tion. Fly from all dependance upon yourselves. Shake off all the weights that false instructions and false views would hang about you, and ask for a free redemption by the grace of God, through the blood ofthe Lord Jesus ; and while the law utters unavoidable denunciations, and makes impossible de mands, let them lead you to that gracious Saviour who has wrought out an everlasting righteousness, and bringing it for your acceptance, asks to be received into your hearts, as your hope of glory, and your only source of peace and consola tion. LECTURE VII. CHRIST OUR RIGHTEOUSNESS. Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one tliat be lieveth. — Romans x. 4. The subject which this text presents to you, is the most im portant one which can be offered to the view of a congrega tion of sinful beings. It embraces the whole grand system of man's redemption It comes to you as rebels against God, under the condemning sentence of his law, exposed to his fiery and everlasting indignation, and utterly unable to find a ransom for your own souls ; and addressing you under this character, it announces the glad and glorious intelligence, that there is one, in whom for you, all fulness dwells, one who has fulfilled every demand upon your souls, and wrought out for you an everlasting and all-sufficient righteousness. After, the views which we have taken of the convincing, condemning and guiding power of the divine law, after tbe terrors which we have seen to be denounced against us, and the demands which we have seen to have been made upon us by this violated dispensation, it will be refreshing and satisfactory to us to meditate upon the glorious truth of a full and free redemption from its curse, ai*d its power to destroy. In my last discourse, I considered the operation which the law had to lead us unto Christ, for a free justifica tion through his blood. The present subject comas in an immediate succession to that, as it presents the real ground and foundation of our acceptance before the throne of God, and the actual object of a living Christian faith : " Christ the end of the law for righteousness to every one that be lieveth." In my remarks upon this important subject, every word should be adequate to the vastness of the theme ; and I desire to look with intenseness of dependance to the enlightening Spirit of God to guide me in what I may say, and to enable you to attend to, receive, and understand the things which may be spoken, agreeably to the holy word and will of Almighty God. In considering the present text, three subjects are suggested for reflection and inquiry. 16 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. I. What Jesus Christ did, as man's Redeemer, for which he may be called the end of the law. II. For what object was he thus the end of the law ? III. For whom is he thus the end of the law, and who are benefitted by his redemption? It will be readily perceived that these three' inquiries will suggest most important topics of remark, and express my vi^ws in reference to some cardinal but controverted points of divine truth. I. We will inquire in what sense Jesus Christ is " the end of the law." The word which is here translated end, presents to us two distinct ideas. It signifies both the object which was de signed, and the object which has been accomplished. Christ was the end of the law in both these senses. He was the frand object to which the law pointed, and to which it was esigned to lead, and he has been the fulfilment of all that the law required. He was the end to be attained by the law, and in the finishing of his work of love, he has been the end and accomplishment of all the law's demands. These two points we will separately consider. 1. The full redemption accomplished by the Lord Jesus Christ, was the grand end to which the law was to lead, and the object in view in the publication of the law. Under whatever sense you may consider the word law, you will find the entire truth of this assertion. Jesus Christ was the grand object of all the rites and cere monies of the Jewish dispensation. Every sacrifice offered with fire from the time of Abel, pointed to him, and had no meaning or efficiency, except as the faith of the offerer laid- hold of this great sacrifice, by which sin was to be put away, in the latter ages of the world. The purifications and wash ings of the ceremonial law, the construction of the taberna cle and temple, and the thousand ordinances among the Isra elites, which in themselves appeared so unmeaning and useless, were all designed to lead their minds forward to him in whom all righteousness should- be fulfilled. They were the shadows of the really good things which were to be re vealed in the incarnation of the Son of God. They made nothing perfect, for they were themselves entirely imperfect and incomplete, without that key to their design, furnished by the actual redemption accomplished in Jesus Christ. He was the single object to which they led, and without him they are, in themselves, entirely inexplicable. The whole of the Mosaic ritual was appointed, not of itself to be the imme diate means of salvation to any individual, but to point uni versal attention to him that should come as the single author and source of life eternal unto sinners. , For this purpose it was established, and to this end its consistent and proper ope ration guided all. Christ was also the great object of the moral law. The publication of this divine law to fallen beings, whether in tb« age of the patriarchs, or by the ministration of Moses, was not designed to opeu in it a way of life for sinners. Its object was directly the reverse; it invited none, but it faith fully warned all. By showing, in the spiritual purity of its required obedience, the impossibility that any sinner should comply with its terms, it invited all to look forward to some other source for salvation. It was added, or proclaimed anew to man, from time to time, because of transgressions ; to con vince men of their sin and danger, until the seed should come, in whom all the promises were to meet and be fulfilled. To constrain sinners to look forward to the great Redeemer who was promised, was one most important object in the pro clamation of the law ; and in the accomplishment of this pur pose, it caused him to be the desire of all nations, and to be welcomed by those in all nations who waited for consolation from on high, as an unspeakable gift and blessing to all. In this ^ense Christ was the end to be attained, both of the law cf ceremonies, and the law of moral obedience. They -are unintelligible without him, and as their requisitions and ordinances are read and considered in the Old Testament, he must be borne constantly upon the mind as the great object in whom they were all designed to meet and become effectual ; 'and with the light which is thrown back upon them from his redemption, they have a meaning and force, which without him they must want entirely. 2. Christ is the end of the law, in the actual accomplish ment of all the law demands. While all the shadows and ceremonies of the Jewish reli gion were designed to lead to him, he has fulfilled them all, .rendered them unnecessary in their obligation, and set them laside forever. The types of the old scriptures are all an swered iu him. The predictions which they gave of his cir cumstances and character, and the illustrations which they furnished of the method of his personal obedience, have been all accomplished. These types and shadows, exhibited in correspondence with the Saviour's work, are still useful, as illustrating the nature of his redemption. They deserve always to be studied arid considered, for his sake. But he is their full and single end, and they cannot carry the mind be- yond the parts and progress of his glorious dispensation. The ordinances and institutions of the law of ceremonies are fulfilled in him. He is the Great High Priest ; the only sacrifice ; the true paschal lamb. He has opened the one real fountain for sin and for uncleanness, and while God could not accept sacrifices and burnt offerings, or have pleasure in them for their own sake, lie has come, in a body which was prepared for him, to do the will of God, and to sanctify for ever those who are accepted in him. Having thus fulfilled the objects and design of all the ceremonial observances of the.law, he has abolished them forever. That which is per fect has come, and that which was in part js done away. All the shadows of a salvation approaching for man have past, by in the arrival of this salvation in the fjilness of its light and power ; and Christ having come, and offered himself without spot to God, to obtain eternal redemption for us, has , become the end and fulfilment of all that this law of ordi nances designed. Of all the requisitions of the moral law he is also the end. He has fully obeyed its precepts, and endured its penalty. While the law required a perfect and spotless righteousness, an obedience which should be, in the minutest point, alto gether uiiblameable, Jesus has rendered the utmost of its de mands ; and because his nature was so high and dignified, and he was under no obligation to obey the Taw, but was per fectly voluntary in his conformity to it, his obedience mag nified it and made it honourable. The law claimed the ut most love to God, and universal benevolence to bis creatures. This love Jesus rendered, and thus his obedience was an en tire fulfilment of the law. But it cannot fail to be remarked by a reader of observa tion, that while Jesus thus perfectly fulfilled the law, so that it had no claim upon him in the shape of a penalty, even for the most trifling deficiency, he was still dealt with and punished as an entire crifninal. He received the full pun ishment of transgression, and died under the condemnation of the violated law. He furnished the only possible instance in which the same being shall perfectly conform to the precepts of the law, and yet sustain the curse of an universal viola tion. And while a being- who has never sinned may fulfil the preceptive part of the law, and a being who has sinned; may bear the penalty and curse of the law* he alone could; make them both the matter of experience, and thus become the end of all that the law-demanded of any created being. It is in this aspect that he is presented as the substitute for sinners. All that he did; he did for them. Every part of his life formed a portion of his actual obedience in their behalf; and every suffering which he passed was a part of that death which he had voluntarily undertaken for them. The hour in which he became a subjected being, he began his voluntary and unconstrained humiliation ; and from that hour every moment of his life was a part of his one great offering for the transgressions of his creatures. The two fold demand which the law made, he accomplished ; and his • infinitely exalted character and rank added such dignity and worth to his obedience and sufferings, that they were rea sonably accepted as of more value, and more honourable, than would have been the personal submission of the whole hu man race. The divine law made no demands, and can make no demand, which this high Redeemer did not adequately answer, so that though his obedience did not abolish the law as a rule of life for his followers, it did provide for them, in answer to its demands, a perfect righteousness; and he was for them the end or fulfilment ofthe law, so far as it re garded any claims which, as a distinct dispensation, the law could have against them. It is under these two senses that Christ may be called the end of the law, as he was the great object to whom the law was designed to lead, and as he has been the accomplishment . of every thing which the law. required. II. The text further declares the purpose for which the Saviour thus became the end of the law: it was for "ng/»- It could be for no. other purpose. Righteousness com prises the whole circle of the law's demands, and the whole extent of the sinner's wants. The law could ask for nothing but a righteousness which PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 17 should be a satisfaction of its penalties, and a fulfilment of its precepts. When this righteousness, this perfect con formity to its claims was found, the law was satisfied, it could go no further. The sinner under the condemnation of the law, wanted nothing but a righteousness which should be sufficient to an swer the requisitions of the law which held him iij bondage. Whenever and wherever he could find this adequate righte ousness, his release and liberty were made secure to him forever. The violation of the law formed the whole necessity for an atonement and expiation for sin, because sin is the trans gression of the law. Accordingly, when a Saviour was found who agreed to become the sinner's substitute, his me diation would have been unavailing, unless he could furnish this righteousness, which was the sinner's single want. It was the relation in which the transgressor stood to the di vine law, which made his need for a priest and sacrifice ; and when that priest and sacrifice appeared, it must have been to sustain the same relation to the law in which the sin ner had been placed, or the mediation would have come short of the necessity. That he might obtain a righteousness suf ficient for his wants, was the sinner's only need for a Sa viour and substitute. Of course, all that this Saviour did as the surety for the sinner, must have been designed to accom plish and provide for him the perfect righteousness which his condition of condemnation and despair rendered indis pensable. The Saviour came to release the sinner from the bondage of the law, and to bestow upon him freely, by his grace, the inheritance of life which had been forfeited by disobedience. The law could not agree to this release until its demands were fully answered. Every thing, therefore, which the Redeemer did or suffered, was designed to make up and finish this everlasting righteousness which the case re quired. His labours and instructions, and miracles, his pains of body and agonies and darkness of mind, all his acts of obedience and all his deprivations and sorrows, united themselves for this single end, that he might be the Lord our Righteousness, and able to save unto the uttermost those who should come unto God through him. In him there is now provided the infinite treasure of merit which the sinner needs. We are to stand complete in him; and while the Father could say of him as the evidence of the greatness of his own love, " This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased," the law could proclaim in view of the perfect ness of his work, "This is a righteousness which meets my utmost claims." The satisfaction which the Saviour made to the law was perfect and entire. He answered every claim which it could make for obedience or suffering ; and thus he accomplished a perfect righteousness, for righteousness is nothing but per fect conformity to the law. But this righteousness which he attained by being thus the end of the law, could not be for himself. The law had no claims upon him ; his obedience and his sufferings were equally and entirely voluntary ; and all that he did, he did as the substitute for sinners. When he became the end of the law, he was in possession of a spotless righteousness. But for whom was this righteousness? The text answers this question : " He is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth;" and thus presents us with our third subject of remark. III. There is no distinction among the whole human family as it regards the condemnation under which the vio lated law has placed them. Without reference to any acquired varieties of character or degrees in guilt, by natural inheritance, every man born into the world is under a curse, and under an equal curse, for sin against God. This is the relation in which the whole race of men stand towards God; con demned under his righteous judgment, and exposed to his everlasting wrath. In becoming the end of the law for a world thus universally guilty, the Saviour has provided a remedy in every respect equal to the want. It was to satisfy the law, and to render the salvation of men consistent with the character of God, that an atonement was required, and a Saviour offered. This Jesus has done ; and the righ teousness which he possesses as the world's Redeemer, is sufficient for all, is designed for all, and is honestly offered to all the children of wrath and sin. The satisfaction to the law, which was indispensable to render the forgiveness of a single sinner consistent with the character of God, was equally sufficient for the whole world. Before the law was thus satisfied, not an individual could be pard oned . After this Vol. II.-C perfect satisfaction was made, it is trifling to speak of limita tions to its sufficiency or its offers. The whole world may "* be saved in as perfect consistence with the character and government of God, as a single transgressor. The way is perfectly opened, for the exercise of grace to all; and there is not a barrier left, but in man's voluntary and determined enmity to the God that made him, to the universal salvation of this fallen family. But while there is this perfect sufficiency and unlimited invitation in the work of substitution which Christ has fin ished, the result of the case is the simple one announced in the text. He becomes a personal righteousness Only to those who believe. There is abundant provision, and it is hon- 1 estly offered to every sinner ; but it is applied for individual i salvation only to those who accept it in faith. While the law was unsatisfied, the holiness and faithfulness of God could allow no offer of salvation. The atonement of Christ '¦ has respect singly to this difficulty, and renders the exercise j of pardoning grace consistent with the divine character, and honourable to the divine government. If no atonement had been made for sin, men could not be required to believe, for there would have been no Saviour for them if they should. But now nothing prevents the pardon of all but the want of that evangelical faith which shall appropriate to the sinner the provided righteousness. Any man may be pardoned who will accept with faith the offered atonement. The way is open, and equally open to all. The proffers of pardon are made with the same sincerity and kindness to every sin ner to whom the gospel is preached ; and he who does not accept them, and of consequence remains unpardoned, must remember that nothing is in his way but his own impenitence and want of faith. He is condemned singly and wholly, be cause he loves darkness rather than light. When any sinner can be led to accept with faith Christ as the end of the law for his righteousness, every obstacle which the justice of God and his own perverted heart inter posed to his salvation, has been removed; and he is ac cepted, crowned with full redemption, and saved with an everlasting salvation. How glorious and consistent is that scheme of salvation which is presented in the gospel ! Jesus, an Almighty Sa viour, all in all. The gospel takes us just where it finds us, in a state of ruin and sin, condemned by the law of God to everlasting perdition, and utterly incapable of procuring justification by our own righteousness. In this miserable condition, it announces to us a Savi. ¦ ¦*'ivinely great and glorious, divinely excellent and loveb- assuming our nature to become an expiation for our sins, revealing to us the way of reconciliation to God, and inviting us to enter into it and be saved. The acceptance of this expiation it announces from the mouth of God himself; and the simple terms upon which we may be reconciled to God, by believing in Christ and being found in him, it discloses with exact precision and perfect clearness. The one demand which it makes upon us, is the submission of our hearts to Christ, because with the heart man believeth unto righteousness. How desirable is that vital principle of faith which shall ' seek and find a permanent refuge for the sinner in the bosom of Jesus. The cause of every sincere believer is safe in the hands of God. Christ has been the end of the law for him, and there is no condemnation to him while he is in Christ Jesus ! He has chosen the good part, which shall never be taken away from him. The Saviour who has begun to be friend him in this infinite concern, will never leave him nor forsake him. All the steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord. Though he fall, he shall *Jise again ; and his mercy God will not utterly take from him. In the seed which is sown in his heart there is a blessing, the beginning of life immortal. Cold and wintry as is the climate beneath which it has sprung ; unkind and barren as is the soil in which it grows ; doubtful and fading as its progress often appears, it cannot die. The hand which planted it will cultivate it with unceasing care, and will soon remove it to a happier region, where it will flourish, and blossom, and bear fruit for ever ; and the satisfied law will rejoice in. the triumphs of grace which have brought the ransomed soul to eternal glory. And O how awful is their condition who voluntarily reject this Saviour, in whose atonement and sufficiency God de clares himself well pleased ! The law condemned them, for their original apostacy, to everlasting ruin. To the guilt of this apostacy, unatoned, unrepented of, and therefore remain ing in all its enormity, they add a second condemnation : the- peculiar guilt of rejecting the singular and amazing efforts of the goodness of God to bring them back to holiness and life. 18 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. In what manner men can more effectually despise the divine character, affront the divine goodness, and expose themselves to inevitable destruction, no mind can conceive. No other offer can be so kind, no other blessing is so great, no other display of the character of God so lovely. The ingratitude, therefore, of the sinner refusing the righteousness of Christ is wonderful, his guilt incomprehensible. If, then, the righ teous scarcely be saved, where shall these unbelieving and ungodly sinners appear? If it be a fearful tiling for all men, for heathens and Mahommedans, to fall into the hands of the living God, what must it be for those men to whom Christ is offered freely, daily and always ; who sit, from the cradle to the grave, under the noonday light of the gospel, and bask through life in the beams of the sun of righteousness ? Be assured, the Lord knows how to deliver the godly out of their temptations, and to reserve the unjust unto the day of judgment, to be punished. LECTURE VIII. THE GOVERNING POWER OF THE LAW. Being not without law to God, but under the law to Christ.— 1 Co- hihthians, ix. 21. I enter with much pleasure upon the subject now before me, because I am aware that many of my hearers have felt anxious lest my arguments, to which your attention has been previously called, should be supposed to set the obligations of the law altogether aside. We have considered the divine law as a spiritual system of requirements, convincing the sinner of his guilt and danger and weakness, condemning the impenitent under the perpetual burden of unpardoned fuilt, guiding the awakened sinner to the mercy offered in esus Christ, who has been the end of all its demands, as the Binner's righteousness ; and we are now brought to the fourth and last aspect of this holy system, in its governing power over those who have embraced the gospel, or fled from the terror of its denunciations to the shelter offered in the full salvation of Christ. It has been my wish to state as clearly as possible, the great truth, that our own obedience has not the least influ ence upon our justification before God. We are accepted solely for the perfect obedience of the Redeemer. In such plain statements of the doctrine of the Bible, many in our day, as in the apostles' time, are ready to think that the ne cessity of obedience has been destroyed, and that our system is one which tends to overthrow a proper watchfulness in personal character. To relieve all such fears, and to shield the truth from such unreasonable and improper imputations, I am now to show the use and obligation of the law as a rule of personal conduct to the true believer. The expression of St. Paul in the text furnishes a proper introduction. His anxiety to win souls to Christ, led him to conform, so far as it was consistent with his duty, to the ha bits and prejudices of all among whom he ministered. He asserted his entire liberty from the impositions of all men, and yet he voluntarily submitted to the views of all, that he might gain the more. In preaching to the Jews, he became a Jew in his outward conformity to unimportant ordinances ; and while they considered themselves under the ceremonial obligations of the law, he refused not to submit to them also, that he might win their attention to the liberty which was presented in the gospel. And on the other hand, while he preached to those who had never received the law, he be came in his disregard of ceremonial observances, without law also, that he might gain those who were thus without the law. This varying compliance with the feelings of men did not show that he had no regard to the divine authority, or that he felt himself to be without law to God. He claimed the privilege of disregarding only that which had been fulfilled and abrogated. The moral precepts of the Almighty laid upon his conscience with their full power ; nay, his embracing the hopes and promises of the gospel, had increased their au thority upon his heart ; he was " under the law to Christ," who had given him a still higher standard of obedience and still more powerful motives to lead him to obey ; and the doctrine of salvation in Jesus which he preached to men, though built upon his perfect satisfaction of the demands of the law, did not make void its authority as a rule of charac ter, but tended still the more to establish and confirm It. The text describes the exact condition of the justified and accepted man. He has been delivered from the condemna tion of the law. It has no penalties to demand of him. He is free from all its denunciations ; but he has been placed under new obligations to obedience, and has new motives leading him to acquire a perfect holiness of life and charac ter. He is not a lawless man, not without law or any rule of obedience to God, but under the law to Christ, who has perpetuated and confirmed upon him every divine command ment; and taught him, that thus only can love to a Saviour be exhibited, by obedience to divine commandments. The sinner who has embraced the gospel of Jesus, is rest ing his whole hope of justification upon the perfect righteous ness of the Lord. He does not expect to earn a single hour of peace or glory by his own holiness of character. The obedience in which he trusts for his salvation, was finished long since ; and he does not hope to add an iota • of merit to that great offering which has been once for all made for his soul ; but yet, as his rule of character, the law has dominion over him so long as he liveth. Its governing power con strains him unceasingly in his exertions, to bring forth fruits of holiness unto God. He is bought with a price, that he may glorify God in his body and spirit, which are his ; and is in the expression of the text, " under the law to Christ." 1. The law displays this governing power over the Chris tian, by setting before him the unalterable standard to which he must he conformed. As a rule of individual character, the law of God is holy and perfect. It is the transcript of the character and perfections of the Creator. A conformity to its precepts is an attainment of the image of God. After this image every Christian is to be progressively renewed, until he is holy, as God is holy. The one principle which fulfils the law is love. When with our whole heart and strength, we love the Lord our God; and with a principle of universal benevolence we love every creature as ourselves ; this prin ciple will lead to the performance of the duties of every pos sible relation in life. This requisition of entire and unlimited love was laid upon us by the Creator, as it is laid upon every creature which he hath formed. No change of circumstances could ever alter the holy and perfect standard which divine wisdom has thus placed before every created being. What ever station we should occupy in the scale of being, it must be our indispensable duty to love God with all our hearts, and our neighbour as ourselves. Nor can this obligation be set aside without authorizing men to despoil themselves of the image of God, and to rob him of the glory which belongs to him. When we have embraced in a new heart the mercies of the gospel, and are under the law to Christ, the constraint of this obligation of universal love is increased by all the high motives which the redemption of the Lord Jesus has set before us. No being in the universe, not an angel in heaven, is placed under the law of love, with such a weight of obliga tion as a sinner ransomed by the blood of Christ. This per fect standard of obedience is set before us, and our great object is, in a conformity to its precepts, through the power of the Holy Ghost, to be renewed after the image of God, from day to day. And though we are forgiven and accepted in Christ Jesus, the governing power of the law still controls us, by presenting the only standard to which we are required to become conformed. 2. One great object of the redemption of the gospel was, that we might be governed by the precepts of the law. The Lord Jesus had in view the holiness and obedience of his people in all that he did and suffered for them. He did not come merely to rescue us from death, but to deliver us from the bondage of sin. This design was given as the reason of the name by which he was called : " He shall be called Jesus, because he shall save his people from their sins." The great object declared in the hymn of Zacharias, for which God had raised up a horn of salvation, and remembered his holy cove nant, and the oath which he sware unto Abraham, was, that we being delivered out of the hand of our enemies, might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him all the days of our life. To have merely delivered a race of rebels from the ruin which they deserved, would have been but a partial object. The great design was to bring back these rebels to a state of obedience and love; to take away the spirit of hostility which had governed them, and thus to restore harmony and peace to a disordered universe; to stop the breach which the waters of contention had made, and to bring all conflicting feelings and purposes into one in Christ Jesus. This St. Paul declares was the great object for which the Redeemer gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all inquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 19 people zealous of good works. He has restored that holy government of heaven which is the source of universal peace and assurance, and died, and risen, and revived, that he might be Lord both of the dead and the living. He will not rule in kindness over a world which still lies in wickedness, but has purchased for himself a church, an assembly of pardoned sin ners, that he might present it unto God, holy and without spot or blemish. As he sees this sanctifying of men progress, he sees of the travail of his soul, and is satisfied ; and, rejoicing over every ransomed sinner, whom he brings in triumph to the glories of the blessed, he presents each one to the Father, as the full accomplishments of his great design in pouring out his soul as an offering for sins, and consenting to be num bered among transgressors ; " Behold here am I, and the children whom thou hast given to me." In the view of his own image impressed upon every glorified saint, and par tially upon every child of God on earth, he triumphs in that result of his humiliation and death, which has plucked brands out ofthe fire, and brought rebels home from eternal condemna tion to a lasting conformity to the law and the image of God. 3. The governing power of the law is displayed in the fact, that the most important end for which we are delivered from the condemnation of the law is, that we may obey its pre cepts. Christ hath purchased us in our state of bondage, by the offering of himself, arid bestowed freely upon us the liberty of the gospel, so that we are no longer under the law, as a violated dispensation, uttering condemnation and wrath, but under grace. But we have not been made free that we may continue in sin. We have been liberated that we may obey the holy commands of God, in newness of spirit and life. The law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made us free from the law of sin and death, or the gospel has de livered us from the condemnation ofthe law, that what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, or through man's inability to obey God, in sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, might do, that is, condemn sin in the flesh, for this great and important end, that the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the spirit. While under the law as a dispensation, we can never obey its holy and separating precepts; it can offer us no assistance or strength ; it can neither make us acceptable nor holy in the sight of God. It acts as a hard taskmaster, requiring us to make brick while it furnishes us with no straw. But when we have embraced the gospel, all the help is afforded us which we want ; and we are then able to offer that obedience to the precepts of the law, which in our former condition we were unable to present. And the great object for which we have been thus set at liberty from condemnation is, that we may be able to obey the precepts of the very law which has before held us in bondage and sin. There is a race to be run and a contest to be maintained. But it is vain to command the culprit in his dungeon, bound hand foot with chains, either to run or fight. Loose his fetters and open his prison- doors, and then with propriety, and probably with success, you may require him to contend and strive. Precisely so is it with our connexion with the bondage of the law, and the liberty ofthe gospel. We are dead to the law, that we may live unto God, and its power over us is cancelled and destroyed as the measure of our hope, that being united unto Christ through whose sufferings we are freed, we might obey its precepts, and bring forth fruits unto God. 4. The governing power of the law is remarkably exhibited in the fact, that a holy obedience to its precepts is one of the most important promises of the gospel. It is announced re peatedly in the Old Testament, that one great result of the publishing salvation in Jesus Christ, should be, that God would put a new heart into his people, and renew a right spirit within them ; that he would cleanse them from all their uncleanness and sins, and put his Spirit within them, and cause them to walk in his statutes and to keep his judgments to do them. When delivered from condemnation, we accept the unsearchable riches of grace which are laid up in Christ Jesus, this gracious promise is fulfilled. The disposition to sin is taken away in proportion as we are sanctified ; and we are set out upon a new course of obedience to the commands of God. In this aspect of the gospel system, the Christian's personal holiness of character is exhibited as a privilege of the gospel, and his obedience to the law is infallibly secured by God's undertaking to work it in him and for him, by the good influences of the Holy Spirit. The. solemn covenant which the Saviour makes with every sinner who receives him in his heart, as his hope of glory, is, sin shall not have dominion over you, for you are not under the law, but under grace. When you were under the law, sin did have dominion over you; but now that you have embraced the refuge ofthe gospel, this dominion is broken, and you shall be holy, for I am holy. No higher honour could be put upon the requisi tions ofthe law, than this constituting obedience to them one of the chief blessings of the gospel, in the promise that when the full redemption of the people of Christ should be accom plished, they shall be all holy, and presented without blame before God. And nothing could more clearly show, that in delivering our souls from the bondage and curse ofthe law, the Redeemer never intended to open the door of transgress ion, to lead us to sin because grace abounded, or to set us fairly loose without law to God; but to give us the very obe dience which the law before demanded in vain, to increase our obligations and motives to obey; and with new constraint to bring us, so far as its governing power was concerned, under the law to Christ. 5. The governing power of the law over those who have embraced the gospel, is displayed in the fact, that Jesus has made obedience to it the grand characteristic of his disci ples. By this he certainly proves, that he never designed to make void the law, as the believer's rule of conduct. " By this shall all men know that ye love me, if ye keep my com mandments." " Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you." "By their fruits ye shall know them." No professions of regard or devotion testify the sincerity of our love for Christ; no sufferings, though they amount to martyrdom for his sake, form an accurate indication of the state of our hearts before him, if a watchful pursuit of holiness of character and conduct be wanting. Our holy obedience to the law, our supreme love to God, our universal love to men, actuating us in all the relations of life, constitutes the only possible evidence that we have been rescued from the con demnation of the law, and made free with spiritual and lasting liberty. A man who has truly embraced the gospel, cannot but be an holy man; for the grace of God which has brought him salvation, has visited his heart for this very purpose, that he might be taught and enabled to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and live soberly, righteously and godly in the world. And the alternative is perfectly true, that he who is not thus holy, and thus mortifying the body of sin, has never yielded his heart to the dominion and righteousness of Christ, or been delivered from the law, which worketh wrath. There is no other proof of the existence and operations of the spirit of God within the heart; every thing is uncertain and un satisfying as an evidence of grace, but the love which fulfils the law. They that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts. Against such there is no law. But, being bought with a price, they are delivered from the law in all its penalties ; that in a holy obedience to God, they may be, as their rule and evidence, under the law to Christ. 6. The governing power of tbe law is displayed in that explanation of its precepts which the Saviour has recorded. The constraint of the law, as a rule of life, he came not to destroy, hut to establish it in the obedience of his followers, as it was in the obedience of the holy angels, more durably than even heaven and earth should stand. To this end he displayed the perfectness and spirituality of its character ; he showed that its precepts extended to the desires and purposes of the heart ; and while men had supposed that the regula tion of the exterior conduct was all which .could be required of them, he insisted upon the necessity of attention and watchfulness, to be directed to the feelings and thoughts. He taught that the conduct and character of men were desirable, according as they were conformed, in sincerity and holiness, to the will of God, who searches and knows the heart, and that nothing which was merely external or partial, could be of any avail while the spirit and life of true obedience, in the inward character was deficient. In this explanation and exterision of the precepts of the law, while he adopted it as the rule by which his disciples were to be governed; he mag nified it and made it honourable. He testified to its excel lence and purity, and made it evident, that unto all genera tions of his people, it was to be made the great standard of obedience and character. In his answer to the scribe who asked him which was the great commandment of the law, he displayed the extent of obedience which he required ; and while Jewish teachers had looked chiefly to the outward cha racter, he demanded the cordial submission of the heart, in a spirit of universal devotion and love. These views show the perpetuity of the law, as a rule of conduct, and display the existence and extent of its govern- 20 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. ing power over those who have embraced the gospel. Per fect holiness of character is required of every Christian. To this all-comprehensive and important end, the exertions of every Christian are to be directed; and although .we come in finitely short of this, in our present course, we have no right to adopt an inferior standard. Feeble and worthless as we are in our highest efforts, and not, in any degree, expecting acceptance on account of our obedience, no lower purpose must be set before us, than that we may be presented perfect in Christ Jesus, and have every thought of our hearts brought into captivity to the obedience of Christ. I have thus endeavoured to display the governing power of the law over those who have embraced the gospel ; or the fact, that though set at liberty from the condemnation and penal ties of the law as a covenant, we are still as our rule of life, under the law to Christ. The effect which our obedience to the law has upon our personal salvation, will form the subject of my next discourse. And now, let me intreat you, in enforcing the obligations of the law, not to attempt to lower its demands in any point of character. We have seen that as a covenant it recedes not from a tittle of its requirements. Its demands were to be perfectly fulfilled, and they were perfectly fulfilled in the work of the Lord Jesus. As your rule of life, its requisi tions are of equal extent. It enjoins you to attain a love for God, with your whole heart and strength, and to love others as yourselves. You must propose no lower standard than this to govern you in your daily walk in life. Do not be sa tisfied with the standard of the world. Do not be contented with the performance of a mere round of outward duties, or a few kind and charitable acts. You must die altogether unto sin, and live with your heart and spirit unto righteousness. Make it your object to have the whole body of sin within you mortified and subdued ; to delight yourselves in the law of God, in the spirit of your mind, and to perfect holiness in his fear. While the law is your rule, let Christ be your ex ample. Walk as he walked. Purify yourselves, as~ he is pure. Be as he was in the world. Let nothing satisfy your desires and determinations, short of absolute perfection, long ing and labouring to be holy as God is holy, and to be perfect as God is perfect. Be willing servants and cheerful subjects of the precepts of the law. Consider the obedience which God requires of you, to be perfect freedom, and run the way of his command ments, with enlarged and thankful hearts. Where this spirit is, there is liberty and comfort, and the commands of a holy God appear in no degree grievous. Brethren, I speak to them that know the law, and approve of it in the operations of its power, which have been set before you. Let me be seech you to give yourselves up unreservedly to God. Those who do not enter into your views, nor adopt your system, will judge of you by the evident holiness of your characters and lives. Let them see in you what the real tendency of the gospel is. On the character of professing Christians, the honour of God and his gospel much depends ; and I would that you should be wanting in nothing ; that you should walk worthy of your high vocation in every duty, and by abound ing in every virtue, and every praise, let it be seen that you have no wish to sin, because grace abounds, but are cheerfully and perseveringly under the law to Christ. There is no way in which you can put to silence the ignorance of foolish men, and prove yourselves to be indeed the disciples of Christ, and be made the effectual instruments of doing good to others, but by pressing onward unceasingly to attain the measure of the stature of perfect men in Christ Jesus. And should there be any of my hearers who have looked with prejudice upon this subject, and regarded the law as se vere, and the gospel as licentious, under the display which has now been made of them, I can only say that I have set before them life and death. I pray them to allow the law to have, in its application by the Spirit, its proper influence to convince them of their sin ; to show them their dangers ; to lead them to Christ, and then to govern them in a new and holy life. The blessed and abiding influence which it produ ces upon one sinner, it may produce upon all, and if it harden any in their sins, it is only because they pervert its operation and reject the counsel of God against themselves. LECTURE IX. THE EFFECT OF OBEDIENCE TO THE LAW UPON OUE SALVATION. Blessed are they who do his commandments, that they may have a right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city. — Rev: xxii. 14. At the conclusion of this series of discourses upon the divine law, I am brought to consider the effect which our obedience to the law has upon our everlasting salvation. Everlasting salvation and happiness is the great object to which the scriptures would lead our desires and exertions. For the attainment of this, they would persuade us to forget the things which are behind ; to count all other things but loss, anl to be willing to sacrifice every thing which is seen and temporal. This everlasting portion of blessedness to which our atten tion is turned, the text places before us, under two separate figures, suggesting two distinct ideas. It speaks of it aa dwelling in a city, presenting the idea of security ; and as a partaking of a tree of life, presenting the image of perfect and eternal enjoyment. Blessed are they who may enter in through the gates into the city, for they shall be everlastingly protected and made secure ; and blessed are they who have a right to the tree of life, for they shall possess the means of everlasting enjoy ment ; and then, because these results are so desirable and glorious, blessed are they who do his commandments, for these important privileges shall belong to them. The text thus presents us, as two general subjects of re mark, the end which is to be attained, and the way through which we are to attain it. I. The great end and result of a Christian life, is the ever lasting security and happiness of heaven ; to enter through the gates into the city ; and to have a right to, or power over, the tree of life. 1. The scriptures frequently speak of the future state of blessedness for the saints as an abode, or place of residence. Our Saviour calls it " the Father's house." St. Paul speaks of it as "a city which hath foundations ;" and St. John styles it the " new Jerusalem." In the two last chapters of the Revelation, the apostle dilates in a beautiful description of the whole appearance of this heavenly city. He speaks of its walls and gates and inhabitants, in expressions which are calculated to fill the mind with the most elevated and glorious thoughts. He describes the character of those who are ad mitted to its enjoyments, as pure and holy, without a spot. This description of a city is undoubtedly figurative, so far as its minute particulars are concerned. But whether the whole idea of a material abode and residence for the glorified people of God, be a figurative representation, is more than I am able to say. The idea which is evidently suggested to us by the figure before us, is that of perfect security and everlast ing defence, and the entrance through its gates implies the attainment of this security, in the regular and appointed method. The ransomed sinner, who has found this eternal shelter, was a guilty and condemned rebel. He fled from the avenger of blood. The violated law uttered its awful denunciations against him. Offended justice demanded the punishment of his sin. The plain in which he was pursued afforded him no shelter. His own strength supplied no means of defence, and wearied and desponding, he was ready to perish, when the glad tidings of the gospel directed him to the city of re fuge, and led him to run thither and be safe. Through the door, by embracing the invitations of the Lord Jesus, he sought and gained a blessed and eternal abode in this home of peace. He was again a pilgrim follower of Jesus, con flicting with trials and difficulties ; encompassed with ene mies, pressing forward through multiplied sorrows, but keep ing his hope steadfast to the end, and purified in all his trials, he has found, at last, his perpetual home, in the new Jeru salem, secured from every enemy, and delivered from every trial forever. He has sought a heavenly country ; a continu ing city ; a kingdom which cannot be removed ; and now, by grace, rescued from every difficulty, and supported through full obedience to divine commands, he has an everlasting se curity in the presence of God. After the views which we have taken of the sinner's necessities under the law, where he is without security, without protection, without comfort and without hope, we are prepared to adopt the full meaning and PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. expression of the text, blessed is he who can enter through the gates, into a city of everlasting righteousness and peace. 2. But this salvation is not only an abode of protection and security : it is the enjoyment of lasting bliss. It is to have a right to, or power over the tree of life. In the description which St. John gives ofthe city of God, he speaks of a pure river of water pf life, proceeding from the throne of God and the Lamb ; and on either side of the river was the tree of life, which bear twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month ; and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. This description presents an abundant source of heavenly enjoyment. There is an abundance of fruit yielded every month. There is a variety ; twelve manner or kind of fruits. It is lasting, for it is a tree of life growing upon the bank of a river of the water of life ; and even its leaves', that part of the tree which is generally fading and useless, are for the healing of the nations. The glorified Christian is stated to .have power over this tree of life. It belongs to him, and he partakes of its enjoyments as his own. In this image, I am not disposed to follow out the minute illustrations. But the whole presents the idea of abiding enjoyment, and to have a right to the tree of life is to have a proper title to everlasting joys. The wants of a sinner under condemnation, having no prospect but death, and no source of comfort or lasting peace in himself, having lost by disobedience the right to any tree of life, and without means to acquire it for himself, perishing in his want and wretchedness, form the contrast to this picture. Amidst the vain and empty and fading gratifications of the present life, blessed is the thought, that there is a tree of rich and abun dant life ; and while all men are under the condemnation of sin, and without means of purchasing deliverance, blessed indeed is he who has received a right to this living tree ; who may look to the eternal enjoyments of heaven as his own, and rejoice in the prospect of their being bestowed upon him. Under these two figures, the text presents to our consider ation the security and the enjoyment of heaven. None will hesitate to unite in its expression, Blessed are they who shall be enabled to attain these in the sure and appointed way which .God has set before us; and, therefore, none can refuse their cordial assent to the whole declaration of the text, " Blessed are they who do his commandments ; they may have a right to the tree of life, and enter in through the gates into the city." II. This is the way through which we are to attain the bless ings of eternal rest. While in its convincing and guiding operations the law is to be our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, that we may be justified by faith ; in its governing power over our hearts and character by the sanctifying min istrations of the Holy Ghost, producing in us perfect holiness of character, it is to be our schoolmaster also to educate us for the glory of heaven, and render us meet to become par takers of the inheritance of the saints in light. Perfect obedience to divine commandments, universal holiness of character, is indispensably required under the gospel to the attainment of life eternal. " His commandments" in the text refer to all divine com mands, particularly to those two which our Saviour selected as the fulfilling of the law : supreme love to God, and uni versal love to his creatures. It is by obedience to these commandments that the high privileges of the text are to be obtained ; and the reverse of this is perfectly true, the man who does not obey them cannot attain the glories which are here presented.- 1. The obedience to the precepts of the law which the gospel requires of every believer, is a perfect obedience ; and it cannot, and does not, promise salvation to any man but in the way of a perfect obedience. Still the idea of perfection in obedience under the gospel is quite distinct from the idea of perfection in obedience under the law. This distinction I will make apparent. The law demanded an obedience for justification, perfect in degree; so perfect in degree, that nothing was deficient and nothing could be added. This is the obedience which angels render. The original depravity of fallen beings vi tiated such an obedience in the very outset, and the attempt on their part to attain it, would have been to build a house upon a quicksand, into the fathomless abyss of which each stone would sink as soon as- it was laid. This obedience, perfect in its degree, to which nothing could be added, an obedience which was necessary to the sinner's justification, the great Substitute for sinners has rendered for them, and has thus entirely fulfilled the demands of the law. 21 But having released us from the bondage of the law, he demands of us, under the gospel, a. perfect obedience also. I say he demands it ; for being justified by him, we are no longer under the law, but under grace. The law Joes not demand, but Christ does. But the perfection of obedience which he requires, is a perfection of motive and principle, and not a perfection of degree. It is a perfection which has respect to all commandments, and aims at a glorifying of Jesus in a full obedience of all, though there may be neces sary infirmity and deficiency characterizing the actual obe dience of each. It is a sincere and cordial devotion of the powers and faculties and affections of the whole man to the obedience of God's holy commandments, though all may be in themselves weak and imperfect. The obedience accepted under the gospel is a china vase, which is whole, without a break ; and is therefore said to be a perfect vase, although it may be small in size and incon siderable in value and workmanship. The obedience de manded by the law is a vessel in itself of the highest possible worth, and therefore perfect, because no power could improve it or enhance its value. Legal perfection is a perfection of degree. There can be no increase of it, because there is no deficiency. Evangeli cal perfection is a perfection of particulars, a wholeness and unity of system. It is like the body of a perfect child ; of which, though every member is diminutive, none is wanting. So in this obedience, all precepts are Tegarded, and all graces are cultivated, though each one be infantile and weak, and in itself of no worth. Such an obedience the gospel requires of every believer ; having regard to every precept, and aiming constantly at supreme perfection in each; willingly omitting no com mand, passing over no duty, but governed by a single pur pose and desiring the glory of a single being; following every commandment with an enlarged heart. This is a perfect, whole, unbroken obedience, though weak and imperfect in the degree to which it is carried upon the earth. Such an obedience which consitutes the holiness of a Christian character, is required in the text as the way through which we are to attain a power over the tree of life, and a right to enter through the gates into the city. The man who attempts to climb up some other way, and to separate the walk of holiness from the reward of peace, the same is a thief and a robber. 2. But in what character is this obedience demanded ; What effect will it produce upon our eternal salvation ? Our obedience to the divine precepts is not required of us as the meritorious cause of our salvation. We are saved by grace. No obedience could save us but one which should perfectly fulfil every demand ofthe law ; and the only merito rious cause of our salvation is that obedience of Jesus which has actually fulfilled the law, and which is offered to us as a free donation of the grace of God to those who are perishing under the condemnation of their sins. This obedience has purchased a right to the tree of life, and a right of entrance through the gates into the city ; and having done this, Je sus has become the author of eternal salvation to all that obey him. 1. But though our own obedience is not the meritorious cause of our salvation, it is the indispensable antecedent and preparation for its completion in glory ; and is thus required of us. This renders us meet or prepared to become par takers of the inheritance of the saints, as an adequate educa tion in the business of the world renders us meet to engage in its duties, when, at the proper age, we are called to their performance. ' The business of heaven is unqualified sub mission to God ; and for this, the increasing holiness of the Christian on the earth educates and prepares him. They who have lived and who die in the Lord, rest in the hour of death from their earthly labours ; but their works follow them, not only as the evidence of their character, but as the commencement of that life of perfect obedience to the divine will and cordial rejoicing in the diyine presence and glory, in which they are to be occupied for ever. And he who would delight himself in the eternal contemplation of the majesty and glory of God, must not here be habituated to love dark ness rather than light, because his deeds are evil. 2. Perfect obedience is required of us under the gospel as a debt of gratitude to Christ, and an evidence of the reality of Christian character. This real motive of Christian obedi ence Jesus offers us when he says, if ye love me, not if ye would purchase life eternal, keep my commandments. A real love for Christ will constrain us to live, not to ourselves, but for him who died and rose again to bring us unto God. 22 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. For this end we have been bought with a price, that we may glorify God in our bodies and spirits, which are his ; and Je sus lays it upon us as the argument of friendship for him, that we .follow his commandments in a life of holiness, and keep ourselves from the power of the evil one. He would bind us here by those cords of love which shall hold us throughout eternity, and deal with us, not as vassals and servants whom he can govern as he pleases, and who dare not resist his will, but as the chosen friends and companions in whom he shall delight himself forever, and whose hearts he would attach now to that holiness of character in which he desires them to shine, _as the brightness of the firmament and the stars forever and ever. 3. This perfect obedience to divine commandments is re quired as the evidence of our title to the blessedness of the people of God. " Lord, Lord," may multitudes say at the gates through which the real disciple enters, " Open unto us ; we have prophesied in thy name, and eaten and drank in thy presence, and thou hast taught in our streets." But the reply to all such demands must be the same : " Not every one that saith unto hie, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven, but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven." The title to reward is the perfect obedience of Je sus ; but the evidence that this title has been conferred upon us, is in the sanctify ing. operation of the Holy Spirit, by which we are sealed to the day of redemption. By no other testimony can the title be established ; and vain is the asser tion of a right to the tree of life, which, destitute of this evi dence, we are utterly unable to prove. By faith we are jus tified and made the heirs of the divine glory ; but no man can bring evidence of evangelical faith, who is destitute of evan gelical obedience. An unholy Christian is a contradiction in terms ; for as animal life can be in no method indicated, but by the motion and speech of the living being, no more can the spiritual life of the professed Christian be testified, without the full result of its power in the outward holiness of his character. 4. From this it is further evident, that perfect obedience of the divine precepts is necessary to bring an assurance of the attainment of salvation to the heart. There is no possible method by which a voluntarily sinful man can attain an assu rance of rest. If he could be supposed to do it, it would be obtaining conviction of the truth of that which, after all, is an absolute falsehood ; for there is no rest to the wicked, saith the Lord. If you can suppose a renewed man, a child of God, to turn aside from following after holiness, and to en ter upon the paths of disobedience, we affirm that that man is on the broad r8ad to hell ; all his righteousness shall not be mentioned in the day of his sin ; but for his iniquity that he hath committed, he shall die ; and unless he be converted unto God, and renewed in holiness, in the whole character of his soul, he shall he lost forever ; for without holiness, no man shall see the Lord. 5. From these demands for perfect obedience, as the in dispensable preparation for heaven, as a testimony of grati tude to Christ, as an evidence of a right and title received from him, and as the only ground of assurance to our own hearts, I may lastly remark that it is necessary, from the ab solute command of God. This is the will of God, even your sanctification. He requires you to glorify him in those good works which he hath before ordained, that you should walk in them; all that lie has desired, revealed, or enjoined, is for this single end, that he might make unholy and re bellious men once more perfect in holiness, after his own image. For this his love has laboured. For this his grace has strove. For this his power has been extended; and to this great end the command of God, which cannot be turned aside, is directed, that they which believe be careful to main tain works of holiness ; that they may stand according to that trial which shall say " Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." In considering the effect which our own obedience produces upon our eternal salvation, we see the truth of the assertion of the text ; and more than this, the great truth that the gos pel of Jesus is designed, and operates to produce universal holiness, and universal peace in submission to God through out the universe. In this method, the great object of Jesus to redeem the world from sin and to renew it in holiness, is accomplished; and they who do his commandments, have, through his grace, the right to dwell forever in the city of God, and to enjoy the benefits of the tree of eternal life. This interesting subject shows us who are the real candi dates for eternal bliss. They are those who are gTowing in holiness of personal character ; who are maturing in deep and humble piety, and daily acquiring more of the blessed and delightful spirit of the Redeemer of men. Hereby we know that he dwelleth in us, by the Spirit which he hath given us ; and no evidence can truly convince us, that either we or others are preparing for everlasting glory, but the holy and peaceful fruits of that spirit. Our confidence in hope, though it does not rest upon our own obedience, but upon the perfect obedience of Christ, must rise or fall, in direct proportion to the holiness and watchfulness of our own con duct ; and we shall certainly deceive ourselves, if, while we are not growing in grace, we comfort ourselves that we may still rejoice in hope of the gloTy of God. The sinful and re bellious heart cannot escape the just judgment of God. To be with God, and to enjoy his presence, we must be brought into a state of subjection to his will, and learn to follow in the steps of his holiness. While we are pressing forward in the paths of obedience, though we are altogether infirm and imperfect in our character, yet if we are sincere and true in our purpose, we are preparing to enter through the gate into the city, and Jesus, passing by all our infirmities and weakness, while looking to the perfect desire and motive which has governed us, will be prepared to say, " Come, ye blessed of my Father, receive the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." But if this is the way to blessedness, and this the fair and reasonable prospect of those who are following after holiness, see the sad condition of all who are cherishing a spirit of re bellion against God. While the renewed and humble Chris tian enters through the gates into the city, against them the door is shut, and without the protection and comfort which that city gives, they are with odious and abominable beings, with whatsoever loveth and maketh a lie. God looks upon them with no compassionate tenderness. Like reprobate silver, rejected from the fining pot; like tares bound in bun dles for the fire, they are rejected forever, with no eye to pity, and no arm to save. The wages of sin is death ; and they who have sold themselves to be the servants of sin on earth, must groan under the payment of their hire through out eternity. They have passed a life of enmity to the Al mighty God; they have provoked against themselves the vengeance of the Most High ; and rejecting the holy precepts of his law as the rule of their life, they remain under the fearful condemnation of that law, unpardoned and chained down with everlasting despair. What can there be in the pleasures of transgression which shall compensate the sinner for such a result of his wasted life ? How strange that Satan should be able so to delude him with the prospect of security, when the Almighty has declared that iniquity has no lurking place in which it shall be concealed ? that though the sinner could dig into hell, thence should his hand take him ; and though he could climb up to heaven, thence would he bring him down ; and neither the top of Carmel, nor the bottom of the sea should afford protection to his soul ? The present discourse has placed before you the only path of safety. The return of your hearts to God, in a new and holy life, con formed to the precepts of his sacred law. Blessed are you when convinced of your guilt, you turn with desire to the divine commandments. Blessed are you while with a spirit of sincerity and love you walk in the path of these com mandments; for according to God's gracious promise you shall have power over the tree of life, and enter through the gates into the city. LECTURE X. THE OBJECT OF THE GOSPEL. The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost. — Luke xix. 10. The Son of man is the Lord Jesus Clirist. It is an appellation which he assumes to designate his voluntary humiliation for the sake of man. In his own eternal nature he was the Son of God, " the brightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of his person." But being originally " in the form of God, and equal with God, " he took upon himself " the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men." Then he became the Son of man " was made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 23 You are lost beneath a load which the arm of omnipotence alone can heave off from you ; and in this condition the gospel comes to seek and to save you. 2. The gospel finds you lost in the extremity of per sonal corruption and sinfulness. The depravity of your fallen nature is exceeding great, and it extends to every power of your mind, and to every affection of your heart. It is vain to dispute about the words total depravity, which are often used to express the state of man by nature. I mean, by my assertion, that there is nothing in you by nature which is not sinful, that your hearts are full of evil. Your understand ings are dark ; your wills are perverse; your affections are sensual ; your conscience is partial ; your memory will not retain heavenly truths ; your bodies are under the influence of a depraved mind ; and every member, instead of being an instrument of holiness, is a willing servant to sin. And from the head to the foot, you are destitute of soundness or spiritual health, and filled with unholiness and pollution. Through your whole lives, and in your whole .character there is not one good thing. And if your everlasting salvation were of fered you upon the single condition of finding a thought or desire which was not sinful, in the whole compass of your past existence, the requisition would defy your power in compliance. There is none of you who hath done good, no, not one. That there may be depravity beyond yours, none will doubt; but that there is any thing but depravity in you by nature, the word of God denies. Lost in this extreme of sinfulness, the object ofthe gospel is to seek and to save you. 3. The gospel finds you lost in a state of enmity to God. The natural mind of every man is enmity against God. In some it may break forth into more open acts of hostility than in others. But it is not less really enmity to God, where it is cloaked with a fair exterior, and shut up under false professions of indifference or friendship. I mean to say, that there is a direct hostility between the mind of God and the mind of every unconverted sinner. They pursue opposite and entirely inconsistent ends ; while one is gathering, the other is labouring to scatter abroad. Many may not be con scious of distinct purposes of opposition to the will of God ; many may deny that they have such. The reason is, simply, either that they do not stop to consider what the will of God is, or that they have formed such erroneous views of his character that they have made him altogether such an one as themselves. To a God of perfect holiness, a God who can not abide transgression, a God who will by no means clear the guilty, there is not an unrenewed sinner upon the earth who is not an enemy. Your whole course of character and conduct, in an unconverted state, is operating to thwart the divine purposes in the redemption of the world, to make in iquity abound, when he would make an end of sin, and to divert from Jesus the heart which he would bring home to his dominion. And thus, by these wicked works, you prove yourselves the enemies of God. 4. The gospel finds you lost in a state of utter inability to return to God, or to restore to yourselves the divine image and favour. So far are you from being able to recommend yourselves to God, that every imagination of the thoughts of your heart is only evil continually. God alone can enable you to will or to do any thing that is good. You have not a wish of your own to be reconciled to God. Your disposi tions and affections are so entirely averted from him, and you love darkness and sin so much better than you love light and holiness, that you have no natural desire to-he brought to a knowledge of yourselves or to a knowledge of God. This aversion of your minds forms an utter incapacity of yourselves to return to God; and were there no other power to operate in the conversion of your souls but the determining power of your own wills, Ezekiel might as well preach to the dry bones as we preach the gospel unto you. Still more beyond your power is it to restore to yourselves the divine favour and image which have been lost by sin. This is a path which no human wisdom hath ever trodden, and no mortal eye could ever discern. And except as the result of God's unsearcha ble riches of grace, all possibility of reconciliation to him would cease for ever. So far as it regards a way to render God merciful to the sinner's soul, or to bring this soul back to God, though the united wisdom of all creatures should be collected to decide upon the method, the gospel finds you utterly lost, and must seek and save you as you are. This is the condition in which the gospel finds you by nature. You are lost under a load of intolerable guilt, in the extremity of sinfulness and corruption, in the enmity of your hearts to God, and in an utter inability to restore yourselves to his favour. that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons." When this wonderful event took place, he came, in the expression of the text, from heaven to earth ; from G°d to men ; from personal glory to personal hurniliation and dis tress ; frorn the possession of inexhaustible life, to lay down himself as a sacrifice for the sins of his creatures. This coming of the Son of God, to be made the Son of man, is the whole subject of the gospel. The writings of the New Testament tell glad tidings, good news to fallen and ruined sinners; and thus they preach the gospel, because they reveal the fact of this mission of a mighty Saviour. The word gospel means glad tidings; and the glad tidings are, that there is an all-sufficient and glorious Redeemer, who, in the sacrifice of himself, has removed the necessity of eter nal death from the whole race of man. That the Son of man has come, is the delightful intelli gence of the gospel. He has borne the necessities of sinners ; haa made an end to sin for those who believe in him, and has brought in an everlasting righteousness as the free gift of God to those who will receive it. And having done this, the gospel which he commands his ministers to preach, is simply the intelligence of this grand fact. The sum and substance of all that we announce to man, in the name of Jesus Christ, is, that " God hath made him to be sin for us, when he knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him ;" and being reconciled to us through this one offering for sin, he calls upon us to be reconciled to him, and not to receive the grace of God in vain. Thus understood, the text proclaims the object and purpose of the gospel; the design upon which the Son of man came into the world, and for which he consented to be numbered with the transgressors. " The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost. The text thus fully intro duces to your notice the subject of the present discourse, which is, the object of the gospel. This object is here declared simply to be, " to seek and to save that which was lost. The mission of the Son of God con stitutes the subject of the gospel ; and the design of that mis sion is to save the lost. In discussing the important subject which is thus presented to us, I shall best display it to your minds by following the language ofthe text; and, First, State the condition in which the gospel finds you ; and, Secondly, The means which it has providedfor your de liverance from that condition. I. The condition in whieh the gospel finds the whole race of men is exhibited in the text by a single word. They are " lost." And in reference to them it has but a single object, which is, " to seek and to save" them. It needs no argument here to prove that you are not now by nature, what God designed you to be. He formed man upright ; and now that man has fallen, he would restore you to a more permanent uprightness than that in which he was formed at first. It is, however, absolutely indispensable that you should understand the state to which transgression has reduced you. You must see yourselves as you are in fact; for a conviction of your wants and dangers, and an humble sense of your great alienation from God, lies at the root of all true religion; is indispensable to your acceptance of the gospel. 1. The gospel finds you lost under a burden of inconceiva ble guilt. Every precept ofthe divine law testifies against you. There is not a duty required of you which has not been left undone. There is not a transgression prohibited, in which, by thought and purpose, if not in word and act, you have not engaged. You were born in sin; and from the birth you have gone astray. One transgression would have exposed you to eternal ruin ; and you have multiplied your transgressions as the sand of the sea. Every hour of your life, because spent in rebellion against God, is a record of condemnation ; and there is not a single hour, which, if you were tried by it, would not sink you into unutterable despair. Your guilt is, therefore, inconceivable : for until you have written down every sinful purpose and feeling of your lives, and marked the recompense of everlasting condemnation as its proper desert, and then have added up the sum of all these innumerable purposes, and taken the amount of condemna tion which will result from your estimate, you have attained no just measure of your guilt. It is high as heaven; what can you know ? It is deep as hell ; what can you do ? It is utterly beyond the power of your minds, to comprehend the extent of actual guilt which lies upon every one of your souls. 24 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. I have no disposition to overstate this matter. But unless you do discern your actual state by nature, and become ac quainted with your necessities, it is vain to point your notice to the provisions which the gospel has made for your rescue and relief. We cannot better illustrate the natural condition of fallen man than by comparing it with the actual condition of fallen angels. They contracted guilt and were unable to remove it. They lost the divine image in which they were created, and were unable to restore it ; and having no provision made for them by God himself, they are left to endure the penalty of their transgression in endless, irremediable misery. I know not that there is a shadow of difference between us and them in this respect, except so far as the sovereign grace of God in which they found no interest, has interposed for us. This, I believe, to be the very truth before God ; and all the difference between us and them, is the difference which grace has made. But if this truth were really felt among you, our work, in establishing the truth of the gospel, would have no difficul ties to encounter. It is the pride of your hearts which inter poses the great obstacle to your acceptance of the gospel. You are so averse to see your necessities, so disposed to contend for some remnant of goodness pr power in yourselves, which shall lessen your obligations to God, that the provisions of the Son of man are shut out from you and despised. But could you feel and acknowledge yourselves to be wholly lost, and for ever lost, you would be ready to hear of a Saviour with thankfulness, and to embrace with anxious desire the salvation which has been provided for you in the gospel. You would rejoice that "the Son of man had come to seek and to save that which was lost." II. We will proceed to consider the means which the gospel has provided for your deliverance from this lost condition. The object ofthe Saviour is a single object; it is " to seek and to save that which is lost." Every other purpose which the gospel accomplishes, and every other aspect under which the Saviour is presented, is subordinate to this. As a teacher of morals, a revealer of wisdom, a guide in life, the character of the Lord Jesus is honourable and comforting. But all these characteristics and offices are merged in that one glo rious, indispensable character; "a Saviour to the chief of sin ners." This is the character which the text presents. The first object of Jesus was to seek a world that was lost ; a world that had started out as it were froni its proper orbit of submission to God, and had wandered off, unknowing and unknown, in regions of everlasting darkness and despair. Like the shepherd, whose ninety-and-nine sheep had re mained in his protection, while one only had gone astray, Jesus left the innumerable hosts of beings who still owned his just dominion, and came to look for this one poor race of creatures, that in the wonderful method Which he had de vised, he might save them from destruction, and bring them back to acknowledge and to delight in the holy government of their Creator. Having visited and found this alienated world, his next object was to save it; to put an instant stop to the course of condemnation and ruin ; to arrest all proceedings of violated justice, and to subdue the purpose of rebellion which actuated the heart of man. In the accomplishment of this end, he has rendered the forgiveness of man consistent with the character of God, and has provided means to reconcile the alienated heart of man to God, from whom it had been averted. In its pursuit of this grand object, the gospel has made every provision which the lost condition of your souls de mands. And it offers to your acceptance a salvation in every respect honourable to God, and adapted to your utmost wants. 1. For the inconceivable guilt which presses down your souls in death, the gospel has provided a substitute and surety in the person of God's dear Son. He has given himself a ransom for all. He came as the Son of man to stand in the sinner's place. He was born of a pure virgin, that he might be a partaker of the nature of man, while he should not par take of his guilt or inherit his corruption. Of all our sinless infirmities he was made the subject; but in regard to our corruption of nature, he was free from sin. He was a victim without spot and blemish; and having no sins in himself to demand atonement, he could make himself an offering for the sins of others. In his sacred person were united both God and man : and having humbled hiinself to death, even the death ofthe cross, for us, God " laid on him the iniquities of us all." For you he suffered, for you he bore the penalties of the broken law, which, without his merciful intervention, you would have suffered in eternity : and for you he obeyedits holy precepts, to work out a righteousness which should be imputed to all, and put upon all that believe. He voluntarily assumed your guilt to be laid upon himself, that he might bear its curse. This has been done. If, now, you will thank fully accept his righteousness, to be laid upon you, "the work of the Son of man for you will be accomplished ; and your inconceivable load of guilt shall -be carried away to a land of utter forgetfulness. In this great offering of the Son of man, he has restored the relation of peace between God and your souls. He has thus rendered God's purposes of love to you perfectly con sistent with the holiness, justice and faithfulness of his own character. He has silenced the denunciations of the offended law; he has satisfied the utmost claims of divine majesty; and has done every thing which is necessary to be done be yond the limits of your own perverted hearts, to save you from your lost and ruined state. Having thus opened a per fect and sufficient way to rescue your souls from the everlast ing punishment of sin, he is now able to apply to each of you, for the conversion and cleansing of your individual hearts; the full atonement which he has made. 2. For the exceeding sinfulness and depravity of your hearts, the gospel provides the influence and power of the Holy Spirit, the third person of the blessed Trinity, whose grace is freely offered to you to bring back your affections unto God, arid to renew you in holiness after the divine image. To save you from your native enmity to God, by the power of this Spirit it takes away your evil hearts of unbelief, gives you a spirit of submission to. the divine will, and causes you once more to render unto God that which is his own. To supply your utter incapability to restore the divine image to your souls, it works within you by the same Spirit both to will and to do. It thus reveals the Saviour to your acceptance, and fulfils the good pleasure of his grace, in- your final salvation. The difficulties which your lost condition opposes to your salvation beyond your own hearts, the gospel provides for in the infinitely sufficient mediation of God the Son ; and the difficulties which arise from this lost condition within your selves, the gospel removes by the power and operation of God the Holy Spirit. As, when you were all without strength, Christ died for the ungodly, and thus eame to seek and to save a world which was lost ; so while you are individually dead in tres pass and sins, the Holy Spirit comes as the great gift of Christ to apply the work which he has finished to your souls, and thus as the great agent to the Son of man, to seek and to save each individual sinner among you from his lost estate. - This last provision of the gospel for the attainment of its great object, is as full and sufficient as the former, which we have already considered. Your personal inability to save yourselves is an entire inability, though it be the result of sin, and no imperfection in the original constitution of man. So far as relates to any spiritual feeling or power, you are naturally utterly destitute of both, and are dead in your sins. In this condition, the Son of man comes by his Spirit to seek and to save you. This Almighty Spirit quickens you by his divine power; and it is by this power alone, the power which raised Christ himself from the dead, that any one of your souls can attain the least disposition to serve and honour God. Having quickened or awakened your souls, the Holy Spirit discovers to you the extent of your wants, and humbles you under a sense of them ; he then stirs you up to cry after God ; he then reveals the Saviour to your view, enables you to exercise faith in him, and to receive him in the gracious offices which he sustains for you. Having done this, he fills you with a principle of'love to Christ, and constrains you to devote yourselves to him. From this, he gives you ability progressively to mortify the indwelling power of sin, to honour the Saviour who hath called you by a holy conversation ; and from day to day he transforms you' more entirely after the image of Christ, and renders you meet to become partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light. He is thus sent as the great instrument of God, to apply individually to your souls the perfect and all-sufficient redemption which the Son of man has wrought out for you : and under the gracious provisions of the gos pel, you have access through Jesus Christ by one Spirit unto the Father. In the means of deliverance which are thus provided for your free acceptance, the gospel accomplishes its one great PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 25 object; ."to seek and to save that which is lost." These means are perfectly sufficient for the end designed ; they supply every possible want ; they meet every possible de ficiency ; they come up boldly to face all opposition : and the sinner who is willing to embrace them, finds them ministering to his soul a full and final salvation. Let it be remembered that the single object of the gospel in reference to yourselves, is your everlasting salvation from a condition of utter ruin and death. Every other purpose which it attains in accomplishing this is partial and unpro fitable, if this be not attained. IF in this life only, you have hope in Christ, you are of all men most miserable. To attain this great object of your salvation from ruin, it provides a perfect atonement and righteousness in the Lord Jesus to reconcile God to you, and the all-powerful sanctifying in fluences of the divine Spirit to reconcile you to God. It declares to you, that God has accepted the mediation of the Son of man, and is reconciled to you ; and it asks if you will accept it also, by the power which is given you from on high, and be reconciled to him ? Whenever you are indi vidually ready to do this, the great object of the gospel has been attained, and the Son of man has sought and saved that which was lost. III. In concluding my remarks upon this important sub ject, I must ask you to examine with the utmost fidelity, how fiir this object has been attained among you. " The Son of man has come to seek and to save," this whole congregation of sinners, pressing forward to the judg ment seat of God. Had the gospel produced its proper effect, there would not be in this assembly one transgressor still alienated from God through the blindness of his mind. But alas, how far are we from this result ! what mean the num ber of slaves to the world, of captives to Satan, to whom the solemn voice of the Almighty God this night comes in the warnings of his word ? What mean the giddy children of folly and mirth, for whom hell has opened her mouth, and still enlarges herself without measure ? Whence the swarm of infidel hearts that yet lift up themselves in rebellion against the Creator of heaven and earth ? O, how very partially has the great object of the gospel been attained among you ! Could I go from soul to soul before me, and see the mark of God's infallible determination of character rise upon your foreheads as I approached each ; upon what numbers should I read that solemn word, lost, lost ! in many cases, perhaps, beyond the reach of recovery ! and what would be the probable result — but, that the greater portion of this assembly of immortal beings would be pro claimed to be still under the wrath of God and without hope in the world ? This fact is awful ; is it a fact? Am I now addressing hundreds who are denying the Lord that bought them, and bringing upon their souls a swift destruction? And are you careless and unconcerned under such views of your character and condition ? Do you feel nothing ? Have you no desire to be brought back to the fold of Jesus ? Have you no wish to be saved in the day of his power ? Will you choose as your portion, the darkness and despair in which unpardoned sin will inevitably involve you? I do ask you honestly and affectionately, will you determine to drive the Son of God from your souls, and lie down upon the unbeliever's everlasting bed ? I would speak to you, as a poor sinful creature, with humil ity and tenderness ; but I would speak to you also, as the minister of God to you for good, with authority and much assurance; I warn the multitude of dying and yet uncon verted sinners to whom I speak, that they cannot escape the just judgment of God; I call upon you in the name of the glorious Redeemer, who desires not your death, to awake from the ruinous delusion which you are playing upon your own hearts. Lay up no more sorrow for the last days. Be no longer infatuated with the false promises of the destroyer, The Son of man has sought you, O shall he not be allowed to save you and bless you with peace ? Every tiling is wait ing the result of your own determination; heaven and hell are suspended upon a moment's choice : and this night you either go back with the shepherd to the fold, or you bind yourself the more irrevocably to the power of Satan. Poor deluded sinner, lost.' O, how much is meant by that one word lost. The man has wandered from his home, the shadows of the evening are stretched out, the coming darkness hurries on despair. Alone in a wilderness, wearied with the day's anxiety and fatigue, with no track to lead him to his home, no prospect of repose but on the bosom of the desert, no shelter for the night but the chill atmosphere of his solitude, with what feverish delirium he throws himself Voir. II.— D upon the earth. Home, children, friends, comforts and joys, all crowd into his bewildered mind. But these are gone. He shall see them no more. He is lost, and many a heart is swelling with anguish at the fear he will return no more for ever. No sound arrests his ear but the desert's blast, or the wild beast's roar; and hope, and peace, and reason too, have taken their flight from his disordered mind. But would you complete this picture of woe? See, a messenger of kindness comes to this lost man to tell him of a path to his home, and to lead him back to its secure repose. He wakes him from his dream, intreats him to arise and go with him, assures him that he will lead him in safety to his own abode, and with a thousand words of sym pathy and love intercedes with him for his own deliverance. But reason and feeling and recollection have gone, and though he is lost, he refuses to hearken to his guide. He will listen for a moment to his kind offer and then lie down in the madness of despair, finally to perish, and turn a deaf ear to every intreaty and remonstrance. You pity the image which fancy has created, but you are lost, and will not pity the actual miseries of your own ruined, deserted souls, nor allow the Son of man, this messenger of mercy, to bring you back to his Father's house in peace. LECTURE XI. THE GOSPEL WAY OF SALVATION. By grace are ye saved through faith, and that not of yourselves : it is the gift of God. — Ephesians ii. 8. The great object of the gospel is the eternal salvation of man. To accomplish this object has been the design of the Son of God in all that he has done and suffered and taught. The accomplishment of this purpose is all that man requires. Let the sinner be saved, and he may be happy in the prospect of it, though he be poor and deeply afflicted with the trials of this world. Let him live and die without the prospect of this salvation, and all the wealth and indulgence of the world cannot purchase for him the comfort which he wants. The few years of his existence here are but of small im portance. Whether they pass away in sorrow or in joy, they will soon pass, and their pains and pleasures will be alike forgotten. So far as this life is concerned, it would be reasonable in you to dismiss anxiety and care. But you have to die ; and after death, the judgment ; and after the judgment, eternity. These claim your notice and consideration. Seventy years of life you may be allowed to despise ; but the countless ages of your future existence you cannot despise. For them the great question is to be settled, and to be settled here, Shall you be saved or lost ? The object of the gospel of Jesus is to settle this all- important question. It is to save you with an everlasting salvation. But how you shall be saved, how you shall es cape the just judgment of God, and come before his spotless throne in peace, forms another question, which the gospel alone can determine. To answer this momentous question is my purpose at this time, while I bring before you, as the subject of the present discourse, the gospel way of salvation. You find yourselves by nature in a state of utter ruin and condemnation. You have no peace with God, and no com fort or hope in yourselves. Eternity is filled with the black ness of darkness forever ; and you see that you shall have no hope when God takes away your soul. God in his righteous indignation against you is a consuming fire, and you feel that it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. But how you shall escape his anger, and be made secure from the proper consequences of your own sins, is a matter utterly beyond your power to determine. It is a matter which would have remained a mystery hidden in God forever, had it not pleased him, in the riches of his grace, to reveal it to you in the gospel of his Son. To the decision of this matter, the present text comes with the wisdom of God, and it answers as from the very throne of the Most High to every question and every doubt, " By grace are ye saved, through faith, and that riot of yourselves ; it is the gift of God." 26 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. In considering this subject, the text presents three natural divisions in the three assertions which it makes : I. " By grace are ye saved," as the cause and instrument. II. " Through faith," as the metliod. III. And " The gift of God," as the origin. I. " By grace ye are saved." When our thoughts and desires are first turned to the glorious blessings of the gospel, and we ask with the jailor at Phillipi, " What shall we do to be saved ?" probably in all instances the first idea which occurs to the mind is, that we must do something, in order that we may in some way merit and earn the salvation which we want. The perform ance of some particular duty, the hearing of some particular preacher, the reading of some designated book, the new obedience of our life, or even our own grief and sorrow for sin, are suggested to our minds as a price which we must pay for the blessing which we want ; and it is sometimes long before we are willing to trust ourselves to the free and sovereign grace of God, to be saved in the way which shall seem best in his sight. The salvation of the gospel is altogether a salvation by grace. The term grace is used generally to convey two distinct meanings ; the one of which is a consequent upon the other. It means the original un merited favour or mercy of God, from which our salvation has flowed as the cause, and the influence of the Holy Spirit, by which that salvation is applied to us, as the instrument. When we say "ye are saved by grace," we mean .to as sert that your salvation flows exclusively from the unmerited mercy of God, which has provided and offered a Saviour, and that it is applied to you exclusively by the new creating power ofthe Holy Ghost, who takes ofthe things of Christ, and shows them unto you and enables you to believe in your hearts on him. The first aspect of the text declares ye are saved by grace, to the exclusion of all human merit, in the purchase of your salvation. The second, ye are saved by grace, to the exclu sion of all human power, in applying this salvation unto you, and in converting you unto God. Let these two be distinctly considered : 1. The gospel teaches us, that we are saved by the free grace and unmerited mercy of God, to the exclusion of every thought of human works or deservings. The idea of merit in a fallen and imperfect being is entirely absurd. Con sider the situation of out first parents after their disobe dience, and what could they do to recommend themselves to the favour of the God against whom they had offended ? I will not ask what they could do to merit the gift of God's dear Son and the influences of the Holy Spirit upon their souls, for it is obvious that no thought of the possibility of such a method of restoration could, by any means, enter into their minds. But what single personal act or service could they render to God for which he should be induced to pardon their disobedience and restore them to his favour? What can the fallen angels now do to restore the image and favour of God to themselves? and they are as capable of earning their salvation as is any unconverted sinner upon the earth. But it may still be said, that since God has mercifully bestowed a Saviour upon us, we should do something to de serve his favour, or to Tepay him for his kindness. I would ask, then, what can we do ? " Without him we can do no thing." And if the communication of his grace must pre cede every good act in us, it will be self-evident that we can do nothing to deserve it; and must be dependant upon God's sovereign pleasure for the ability both to will and to do. The truth is, as the first gift of a dying Saviour sprung from God's unmerited love, so must our salvation by him in all its parts. We have nothing to offer him. All our suffi ciency is of God ; and render him what we will, we only • render him that which is his own. The gospel opens to us, therefore, a way of salvation per fectly free. It has provided every thing which onr souls can want ; and having made such abundant provisions, it asks us to receive them without money and without price. Its salvation is clogged with no conditions. Accept it as the gift of God to those who are perishing, and it is your own for ever. The depth of your sinfulness forms no difficulty. Salvation is as freely offered to the pirate in his dungeon, as to him who is, in morality of conduct, not far from the king dom of God. Whosoever will, may take a blessing, to which man can add nothing, and for which man give no thing. Whatever you have been, whatever you have done, the gospel does not ask a question about it. It addresses you all as the chief of sinners, and presents the full glories of its salvation as honestly to one as to another, asking no thing but your thankful acceptance of the gift which it offers. 2. But how shall you accept this gift, and apply this free salvation to your own souls ? The text answers you under the second aspect, " Ye are saved by grace." The Holy Ghost must come upon you, and the power of the Highest oversha dow you, before, in the acceptance of this salvation, you can be created anew after the divine image, and be made th? sons of God. A real conviction of your sinfulness and danger is the result of his power. He gives a true repentance for sin ; he leads your hearts to the Prince and Saviour who has been exalted to give repentance and forgiveness of sins. He be stows upon you that new heart and new nature which is pro mised in the covenant that God hath made with his people under the gospel. His power is all-sufficient, and it is alone sufficient to create in you the gracious dispositions and character which God is ready to accept. When you are dead in your sins, he awakens you to life., While you are infirm and feeble, he sustains and strengthens you. He leads you to the fountain of living waters, and clothes you with a new and divine life ; and from the first hour of your spiritual existence to the hour of eternal tri umph by the grace of God, you are what you are. The gospel requires no human power in the work of your salvation. It depends not, in any degree, upon youT own wisdom or strength, or determination. It demands nothing of you which it does not promise to work within you, so that from the divine fulness you may receive" grace upon grace. When it commands you to repent or believe, or be obedient to God, it has before offered to your acceptance the very gracious qualities which it requires you to exercise ; and there is not a single quality which it calls for that can flow from any other source than its own sufficiency. This view of the gospel way of salvation is most im portant, and cannot be too deeply impressed upon your minds. The Saviour asks from you nothing but what he first offers to give you. There is not a grace in the re newed heart which has proceeded from any other power. The same spirit upholds and sanctifies the steadfast be liever, which consoled and transformed at first the penitent transgressor. The gospel will set none of you up upon an independent stock of grace. Your manna must fall every morning, and be gathered before the sun is hot. Your barrel and your cruse shall never fail, but they shall never Be filled. As your day is, and only so, shall be your strength; and you might as well close the shutters of your house to keep the light of the sun which you have received, as think of retaining grace and strength when cut off from immediate and uninterrupted communication with the great source of both. You will live only while Christ lives in you ; and from the first to the last, the work of your sanctification is all divine, and the glory belongs entirely to God. The gospel way of salvation is in these two aspects a salvation by grace, to the exclnsion of human merit and hu man power. The provisions which it had made it asks you to accept, and then promises and gives you the power to receive them. The full foundation for your hope was laid when the Prince of Life offered himself upon the cross as a sacrifice for your sins. You will be able to build securely upon this foundation when the Spirit of God shall be al lowed to lead you back from your love and pursuit of sin, to acknowledge and receive him as your righteousness and peace. The text yet more definitely points you to this way of salvation, when it goes on to state the method in which you may be interested in it. II. " Ye are saved by gTace through faith." Every gracious provision of the gospel is made independ ent of ourselves ; and the work of our salvation is accom plished when we are finally interested in those abundant provisions for our wants which God offers us in the gospel When we are united to Christ, we are partakers of his abun dant mercy ; our sins are pardoned through his atonement ; our souls are justified through his obedience ; and because he lives, we shall live also. While all these provisions are beyond ourselves, it is by faith alone that we can be inter ested in them. The foundation is laid; it is perfect; it is all-sufficient. Whether we believe or not, it remains the same. God cannot deny himself. Would you then be made partakers of that grace whereby you may be saved you must believe God's record respecting his dear Son ; and then look to him for the communication of his purchased benefits to yourselves. You must rest yourselves with con- PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 27 fidence upon that unmerited love of God which has offered you salvation, and that all-powerful influence of his Spirit which may apply this salvation unto you. There is no other conceivable method in which you may obtain an interest in the mercies which God has treasured up in Jesus Christ ; and if you look through the scriptures, you will find that your simple faith in the power and promises of Christ is the only instrument ever spoken of there, as the one which shall secure to you the work which he has finished. If I have treasured up in my house abundant provisions for the desti tute, which I offer freely to their use if they will receive them, how can they obtain the blessing but by believing that it is there, and will indeed be bestowed, and then asking in this spirit of faith for the bestowal ? God's treasures are laid up for you. They are not now to be made, or to be increased in any degree by all that you can do. Believe that they are there, believe that they are all-sufficient, believe that they will indeed be bestowed, and then ask them with the desire of faith, and you shall not be sent empty away. It is true you are required to repent, and to obey the com mandments of God, in a new life of holiness ; but these are the results of a true faith. You can have no repentance unto salvation without believing in him whom you have pierced, that he may give it to you. You cannot obey a single com mand but by his power dwelling within you ; and these gra cious dispositions and habits, instead of purchasing salvation for you, are themselves a part, and a most important part, of that very salvation which is offered to you in the Lord Jesus Christ as the purchase of his cross. Do you ask for a godly sorrow for sin? for a total subjec tion of your unholy affections? for the dominion of holiness and love within your hearts ? May not Jesus reply to every request, " Believest thou that I am able to do this ?" And will not his bestowal of them, and of every thing accompa nying salvation, depend upon the answer which your con sciences would be obliged to render to a question like this ? Only believe, we may still say to you, and these and all other mercies shall be bestowed. The treasury of God's love, in which attribute the scripture says he is " rich," is freely open to you. Every thing which you want is there; and a coming thither with faith will show you such provi sions of grace as pass man's understanding. You can pur chase nothing, you can render nothing, you can offer nothing. When you are by faith vitally interested in Christ, you will want nothing more. You will find no deficiency for your own power to supply. While he dwells within you by faith, every holy trait, every lovely disposition, every spi ritual habit, every heavenly desire, shall spring and rise, and flourish and spread abroad in your hearts and character, from Christ who dwelleth in you. But until by faith you yield to him, you are dead in your sins ; and a naturally dead man might as justly be expected to rise up and offer a price for that life, the possession of which was implied in his very rising, as you expect to offer anything but a depraved, cor rupted and dead spirit, upon which Christ may show the power of his grace. You must be saved by grace, and that grace shall be applied to your souls by faith ; and even here again, to take away all pride and glorying from yourselves, the grace and faith and every mercy, spring not from your selves ; they are all "the gift of God," a gift to those who are poor and destitute and perishing in their sins. IH. " The gift of God." This last assertion does not refer particularly to the faith which is required before, but to the whole salvation by grace of which the text speaks. Every part of man's salvation is equally a free gift. The original purpose to save, the glorious sacrifice which has been made, the offer of that sacrifice to you, the acceptance of it by your hearts, and the peace and holiness which this acceptance gives, are alike the results of a principle of love in God, which looks to no merit, or strength, or recompense, in the creatures to whom the gift is made. The same determinate counsel and purpose of divine mercy which delivered up a Saviour to he crucified for you, will, in the last day, finish your salvation by crowning you with him. Your last breath will be as much dependant upon him as your first ; and eternity will be spent, not in personal congratulations upon your own strength or wisdom or per severance, but in raptured hallelujahs of thanksgiving to him who has loved you and given himself for you, and washed you from your sins in his own blood, and redeemed you froni every kindred and tongue, and people and nation, to make you kings and priests unto God for ever. Although the truths which I have here presented to you have been controverted in every age, and there have been multi tudes of men who have opposed this casting down of human merit and ascription of all praise and glory to the grace of God ; still the Bible teaches the same thing, and the plain and simple way of salvation which it first laid open to sin ners it lays open now ; and it seems to me that nothing can be more plain and evident, and intelligible, than is this way of salvation which the gospel offers. While on the one side there is a poor wretched creature, wanting in every thing and having nothing to give, on the other there is a bountiful Sove reign and Lord, who offers every thing freely, and asks no price from the subject of grace. The gospel is provided in all its operations as a remedy for existing evil, and as such it is in every part exclusively "the gift of God." Let us come back to consider the actual state of a fallen being, the actual condition of your own souls by nature, and you will find yourselves to be entirely in a guilty, polluted and helpless condition. In this state of spiritual rum, God has provided for you a remedy ; and he both inclines and enables you to apply that remedy. For your guilt he ap plies to you the atoning blood of Christ; for your pollution and weakness he sends the Holy Spirit, to begin and carry on a work of grace within your hearts. By looking to Christ you may obtain peace with God and in your own conscience ; and by yielding yourselves to the influences of God's Holy Spirit, you may become renewed and sanctified in all your powers. Your renovated health will begin immediately to appear. You will be enabled to mortify all your former cor ruptions, and to walk holily, justly and unblamably before God and man, and will become gradually transformed into the divine image in righteousness and true holiness. But to what then shall be ascribed the change which has taken place within you ? Will it not be altogether owing to the remedy which God has prescribed and enabled you to apply % To your latest hour you will continue to apply the same remedy ; for through the whole of this life you will be only convalescent and not perfectly recovered ; and when in the full establishment of your spiritual health, in the heavenly inheritance, you will tell the history of your restoration to the sole honour of that Almighty Physician who visited you in your lost estate, and brought a balm which was adequate to your need. Now is not this perfectly plain and simple ? Is it not ex actly the gift which every sinner wants for the peace of his mind and for the sanctification and salvation of his soul ? Yet in this representation all is of grace. Both the Saviour himself, and unmerited salvation through him, are the free gift of God ; and not according to works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy we are saved by the washing of regeneration and the renewing of the Holy Ghost. I have thus endeavoured to set before you the gospel way of salvation. You find it a way perfectly adapted to your pow ers and to your necessities. It calls for your sincere thank fulness to God, who has been willing to provide it, and your cordial acceptance of the gift, while it is so freely presented. But all will be of no avail to you unless you embrace with rejoicing, the remedy which is thus presented. Let not the subject, therefore, be allowed to rest in your understandings unfruitful and barren. Seek to have your hearts interested in it ; hear the voice of the Spirit, which says to you, " This is the way, walk ye in it ;" and turn not to the right hand or to the left. In concluding the remarks which I have now to make, let me beseech you to seek a deep acquaintance with your real state before God, and the application to yourselves of the gracious remedy which is offered you in the gospel. Had you but a due preparation of heart for the reception ofthe gospel, were you truly convinced of your unworthiness and danger, the glad tidings of salvation would distil as the dew upon your souls, as the showers that water the mown grass. Did you feel that the sorrows of death compassed you about, and the pains of hell had got hold upon you in the deep and piercing sense of your own guilt, the sound of salvation purchased by our incarnate God would transport your souls, as it did the angels, when they sung, " Glory to God in the highest ; and on earth, peace, good will towards men." Unspeakable joy would spring up in your hearts from the thought of an indwelling God, undertaking your cause and working effectually upon your souls. The great and universal reason why you hear the gracious invitations and promises of the gospel so inattentively, and with so lit tle effect upon your characters, is, that you are not convinced of your danger. You do not feel and mourn over your lost 28 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. condition. "They that are whole need not a physician." Because so many of you believe yourselves to be whole, the remedy is heedlessly rejected, and your souls are left to perish. O that God would tear off from your hearts the veil which Satan and the world are uniting to weave over you, and make you to see the pollutions which are there open to his view ! Why are you so anxious to deceive yourselves in this matter ? There is a day before you when hell shall be naked, and destruction shall have no covering ; when every false excuse shall fail, and every extenuating plea shall be come utterly useless ; and when, though discovery shall be perfect, it shall be too late to be beneficial. If you are in solvent and ruined, why attempt to delude yourselves with the contrary belief ? But are you not? Then Jesus is no Saviour to you. You may as profitably own Mahomet or Brahma for your Lord as Jesus. He will not, he cannot save you till you feel yourselves to be lost. I pray you look at your characters in the mirror of God's infallible word ; and while he proclaims that you have altogether gone out of the way, acknowledge the truth of his representation, and be willing that he should bring you back to himself in peace. Upon this deep acquaintance with your own character and state alone, can be built a proper acceptance of the gospel. However your understandings may be enlightened with a knowledge of the gospel way of salvation, it will profit you nothing while this knowledge is merely speculative. Though the patient in the hospital might deliver a lecture upon his own disease, and the adaptation of the remedy to his want, it would avail but little should he still refuse to apply the remedy to himself. If you neglect the gracious remedy of the gospel, or substitute any other in its stead, you do so to your eternal ruin. I beseech you to look to Christ for the justification, and to the Holy Spirit for the sanctification of your souls. In no other conceivable method can you find sal vation from the condemnation of the law, the bondage of sin, and the everlasting punishment of hell. There is no other name given for salvation, but the name of Jesus, and that name is worse than useless to you, unless it be permitted to dwell in your heart, as your hope and comfort. Yield your selves to his power. Be willing to be saved by grace through faith, and so receive the unspeakable gift of God, that his power may operate within you, to bring you home to that fold of ransomed sinners which is under one shepherd, Jesus Christ, the Great Bishop and Shepherd of souls. LECTURE XII. THE HISTORY OF THE GOSPEL. Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he hath visited and re deemed his people. As he spake by the mouth of his holy prophets, which have been since the world began. — St. Luke i. 68 and 70. In one previous discourse I have considered the great ob ject which the gospel designs to accomplish, which is to seek and to save that which is lost. In another I have spoken of the way which the gospel lays open for the attainment of this object, which is by grace through faith, as the gift of God. Before 1 proceed to consider several distinct attributes and characteristics of the gospel, I wish in my present discourse to set before you the history of the gospel. By this expression I do not mean the narrative of facts which the writings of the Evangelists contain, but the history of the gospel itself, as a dispensation to man, showing its origin and its progress, in the clear manifestations of its grace to those for whom it was designed since the fall of man. As an appropriate introduction to this subject, I have se lected my text from the sacred hymn which Zacharias uttered at the circumcision of his son. This hymn was uttered by the immediate inspiration of God, for it is said, " that Zacha rias was filled with the Holy Ghost, and prophesied" in the divine language which is here contained. Every assertion of necessity which this hymn makes, must be infallible and eternal truth. The son of Zacharias was to be the forerunner of the Lord Jesus Christ, the Saviour of the world ; and on the occasion of his public dedication to God, his father prophesied of the character and work of that Saviour before whom he was to be sent. The Redeemer was not yet bom in the lowly nature which he had assumed. But the faith of Zacharias was led for ward to him, when it is more than probable that none of his auditors, beside his own wife, understood the allusions which he made. " Blessed," he says "be the Lord God of Israel, for he hath visited and redeemed his people, and hath raised up a hom of salvation for us in the house of his servant Da vid." In the figurative language of the Israelites, a horn im plies great strength, and in the text, " a horn of salvation," is a strong salvation ; an all-sufficient salvation ; a salvation to the uttermost ; or, as in our prayer-book, " a mighty salva tion," because accomplished by the mighty God of Israel, although he stooped to be a babe in the family of his servant David. The reference of this high title, "The Lord God of Israel," to the child who was to be born of Mary, be comes evident in the succeeding verses of the hymn, in which Zacharias addresses himself to his own child, whom he now held up in dedication unto God, " And thou, child, shalt be called the prophet of the highest, for thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to prepare his ways ;" and this perfectly corresponds with the statement of the angel before the birth of John, " He shall be filled with the Holy Ghost, even from his mother's womb, and many of the children of Israel shall he turn to the Lord their God, and he shall go before him," the Lord God of Israel, in the spirit of Elias, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wis dom of the just, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord. | The great event for which Zacharias thus praises God, \ was the incarnation of the Lord God of Israel ; the whole sum and substance of the gospel. This raising up a mighty salvation in the family of David, in the birth of him who was to be the Saviour of the world, Zacharias says was a ful filment of all the divine promises of salvation to the people of Israel. " Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he hath visited and redeemed his people, as he spake by the mouth of his holy prophets, which have been since the world began." This incarnation and suffering of the Son of God, is the sub ject of the gospel. This gospel has been proclaimed by the inspired prophets of God, from the beginning of the world. The interesting subject which I now propose to you, the his tory of the gospel, will lead me, first, cursorily to trace these different publications of the gospel to men, from the earliest ages of the world, in order to show that the great truth upon which we rest our hope, the incarnation of a mighty Saviour, was from the beginning of the world spoken to our fathers by the holy prophets whom God inspired. From the day of man's fall from God one great plan has comprehended the whole arrangement of divine providence and divine mercy. This one plan is the redemption of the world, by our Lord Jesus Christ. For this the earth and men have been suffered to exist. For this the mighty revo lutions of the sons of men have been overruled. For this the least event in the life of each individual subject of redemp tion is made to operate; and all things work together for this unspeakable good to those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. The scriptures teach us that all the various parts of man's salvation have been devised from the foundation of the world. The great covenant of redemption between the persons of the Deity, in which the Father, the Son, and. the Holy Spirit united to bring back the captives of Satan, was made before the world was created. The great sacrifice which the law demanded, and which this covenant of redemption provided, was then appointed, and Jesus is called the Lamb, slain from the foundation of the world. The book of life was then prepared, and the saints are said to be those who are written in the Lamb's book from the foundation of the world. The everlasting home for the saints was then provided ; for thus says Jesus of the redeemed, " Then shall the king say to them on his right hand, come ye blessed of my father, receive the kmgdom prepared for you from the founda tion of the world." The view which is thus presented of the great salvation of the gospel, is high and comforting. For the everlasting good of the feeblest Christian, the power ot Almighty God has been exerted from the beginning ofthe world ; and the gospel, which in its rich and attractive invi tations is preached to us, is the simple, but glorious intelli gence of that which occupied the wisdom and the love of heaven, before this world was formed. The redeeming visit of the Lord God of Israel, of which Zachanas speaks, was planned and determined before the cre ation, and has been announced as the object of faith to the people of God, in every age since the world began. This I will proceed to exhibit to you, and may your hearts unite PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 29 with the Father of the baptist in blessing the Lord God of Israel for this work of grace. We will first speak of that period of history between the fall of man and the covenant with Abraham, and show how, in all this interval of time, God was proclaiming the glad tidings of the gospel to men. As soon as Adam fell, the Son of God immediately entered upon the office and work of a mediator. This work he had undertaken before the world began ; for he thus says of him self, " I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth was." Now the appointed time had come, and in the moment of man's transgression, he immediately presented himself as the daysman between a holy, infinite, offended majesty, and offending mankind. His mediation was at once accepted, and wrath was prevented from going forth to execute the amazing curse which had been denounced against transgression. It is manifest that Christ began his work of mediation instantly upon the fall, because God im mediately exercised mercy, and did not cut off man at once as he did the angels who had sinned. But no mercy could be extended to fallen man, ^but through a mediator; the exer cise of divine forbearance and mercy shows the commence ment of the work of the gospel, and when the Saviour came to comfort our first parents, on the day of their transgression, in the garden of Eden, he came to seek arid to save that which was lost, as much as when he came afterwards to take upon himself the nature of man of the virgin Mary. From that day Christ took upon himself the care of the church in all his offices. He undertook to teach mankind as their great prophet ; to intercede for men as their priest, and to govern them as their king. He was then set up as the cap tain of the Lord's host; as the captain of salvation to his church, to defend them against all their foes, and from that hour God acted solely through a mediator, in teaching, go verning, and blessing mankind. While on the day of the fall the Son of God commenced the attainment of the great object of his mediation, on the same day intelligence of this was also proclaimed to man, and the gospel was first preached upon the earth. God said unto the serpent, " I will put enmity between thy seed and her seed ; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel." This was the first revelation of the covenant of grace ; the first dawning of the gospel upon the earth. By the transgression of man, the light of God's favour had been shrouded in darkness, which neither men nor angels could scatter; and when, on that day of sin, God called man to ac count, his heart was filled with shame and terror. These words of God were the first dawning of a returning light, Before they were uttered there was not one glimpse of light; not one beam of comfort, nor a single source of hope to the sinner. Here was a certain intimation of a merciful design to be accomplished by "the seed of the woman," which was like the first glimmering of morning in the eastern sky. This gracious promise was given before the sentence was pro nounced upon either Adam or Eve, from tenderness to them, lest they should be overborne with a sentence of condemna tion, without having any thing held out whence they could gather any hope. In the institution of sacrifices, with the skins of which Adam and Eve were clothed, the gospel was again revealed to man, and a permanent type setup ofthe sacrifice of Christ, by which the power of Satan was to be subdued. The ordi nance of sacrifices was instituted immediately after the reve lation by the promise of the covenant of grace. Thus the first stone in the great edifice of man's redemption was laid in prophecy of Christ, and the next in this standing type of his one sacrifice for sin. Not long after the gospel was thus first proclaimed upon the earth, and the way of salvation through a mediator was laid open, God began the work of actually saving the souls of men. It is probable that the first fruits of the redernption of Christ were Adam and Eve. It is probable, I say, from God's manner of treating them, in comforting them by a pro mise, under their awakenings and terrors ; for while they stood trembling and astonished before their Judge, without any expedient from which they could gather hope, then God offered them an encouragement, and told them of his de signs of mercy through a Saviour, before he passed the sen tence against them. But it is certain that in their children, the great Captain of salvation manifested his power to save to the uttermost. In the instance of righteous Abel, we hear of the first ransomed sinner who went to heaven through Christ's redemption. In him the gospel thus wrought its perfect work. In him the. angels first acted as ministering spirits to bring a lost soul to glory. And in him the holy inhabitants of heaven had the first opportunity to behold one of this fallen, ruined race, brought to the enjoyment of heavenly glory. Thus, while they saw the first effect of the full operation of the gospel, and could sing worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive honour, and glory, and blessing, he first experienced this operation of redeeming love, and first raised in heaven that song of experience to him who had loved him, and given hiriiself for him, and redeemed him from misery and death, and had made him a king and priest unto God for ever. By faith Abel had accepted the promises which God had given unto man; and offering, in this faith, a sacrifice which was indeed excellent and acceptable, he obtained witness that he was righteous ; and by this instance of a living and sufficient faith, -" he being dead, yet speaketh." By Enoch, God was pleased again with great clearness to testify the coming of the Lord to establish the kingdom which was committed to him upon the earth. " The Lord cometh with ten thousand of his saints to execute judgment upon all." This may refer to any particular coming of Christ, and it cannot reasonably be confined to any one. But it speaks generally of his coming in the power and glory of his kingdom, and is fulfilled, both in his first coming to set up his kingdom on the earth, and his second coming to finish the salvation of his people and the destruction of his enemies. The coming ofthe Lord God of Israel to visit and redeem his people, and to place his enemies under his feet, forms the whole matter ofthe gospel. To this the faith of Enoch was directed ; and while he prophesied of it to the men of his generation, he embraced it as the hope and comfort of his own soul. By faith in this appointed Mediator, he was translated that he should not see death ; and was not, for God took him. Noah also became a preacher of righteousness, and by the Spirit of Christ, preaehed to those whose souls were in cap tivity and bondage to the power of sin. The righteousness which he preached, and of which he became an heir, was the righteousness of faith, or the righteousness of the Mediator embraced by faith. With him God renewed his covenant of grace, and gave him a promise of peculiar blessings in the posterity of Shem. God accepted the sacrifice which he offered, and established with him and his seed after him, that everlasting covenant in all things well ordered and sure. By faith in this one Mediator, who was to be peculiarly the seed of the woman, and by whose sacrifice a real satis faction would be made for sin, and by whose obedience a perfect righteousness would be provided as an object of faith, all, from Adam downwards, who were saved at all, obtained redemption. To them, in every generation, the gospel was preached ; and the great fact, which forms the gospel, the incarnation and sufferings ofthe Son of God, was held out to them as the one grand object of their faith. By this faith all the elders or patriarchs who were redeemed, have obtained a good report, and transmitted a name to posterity which is honourable to God, and honourable to themselves. This faith in the divine promise of a Saviour, was to them the substance of every thing they hoped for, and the sufficient evidence of their truth, although they were things not seen. Since the world began, God hath spoken to men by his holy prophets of the coming of the Redeemer, who is all our joy and all our salvation. After we have thus traced the publication of the gospel from Adam down to Abraham, there will be no difficulty in understanding and acknowledging its clear and full revelation to him. The apostle Paul says, that God preached the gospel unto Abraham, in that gracious promise, " In thee shall all nations of the earth be blessed." The single object for which Abraham was called, and for which his family were separated from all others was, that the promised Saviour might be made a more particular object of faith, as coming from him. To him, in a new and more specific manner, the covenant of grace was revealed ; and the rite of circumcision was instituted as the outward sign of that covenant estab lished with his family. To former patriarchs God had preached the gospel in proclaiming a Saviour who was to come as the sinner's only hope. To Abraham he preached the same gospel yet more clearly, in promising a Saviour to come from his posterity. The glad tidings of a sufficient Mediator were clearly made known to him ; and his faith in the promises of the gospel was so established and entire, that our Saviour says of him " he saw my day, and was glad." By faith in a coming Redeemer he was justified and saved. And the faith which he had in Christ, the sure confidence with 30 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. which he relied upon his mediation and offering, are repeat edly adduced in the New Testament, as illustrating the faith with which we are required to embrace a Saviour who has finished the work which was given him to do, and has gone to the glory which he had before the world was. To Isaac the covenant of God's mercy was renewed, and the promised Saviour foretold, as coming from his posterity; and to Jacob, still more clearly, was the gospel preached, while Esau and his family were rejected. In the ladder which was presented to Jacob, as connecting together earth and heaven by the ministration of angels, an incarnate Sa viour was offered to his faith. An open way of salvation was thus exhibited to him in vision, while in the very time of the exhibition, God renewed that gracious promise of a Redeemer from his seed, upon which the faith of his fathers had rested. Another most remarkable proclamation of the manifestation of God in the flesh for man's salvation, was given to Jacob, in his wrestling with God and prevailing in the contest, after his return from Padan Aram. Here was a representation to his faith of the whole scene of Christ's humiliation; God was shown to him as dwelling indeed upon the earth, and subjecting himself to the power of his creatures; and the all- important fact, that there was a way in which man might pre vail with God and obtain a blessing, was established in his mind. So frequently had the covenant of promise been re newed and confirmed with Jacob, that his faith rested upon a Saviour with remarkable distinctness and comfort. And when upon his bed of death, he left his last blessing to his sons, the most precious and desirable of all blessings, a Sa viour from sin, he bequeathed to them also. One of tbe clearest predictions ofthe time, and the success ofthe publi cation of the gospel, which the Old Testament contains, is in the last blessing of Jacob to his son Judah. To Adam, the promise of a Saviour was given in the gene ral expression, " the seed of the woman." To Noah it was annexed to the descendants of Shem. To Abraham it was limited to his posterity by Isaac. To Isaac it was confined again to Jacob ; and when by Jacob it was transmitted to his children, the descendants of Judah were selected as those from whom the Christ should come. Judah was to be the ruler of Israel in the person of David and his successors on the throne. And " the sceptre shall not depart from Judah," said the dying Jacob, " nor a lawgiver from between his feet, until Shiloh come, and to him shall the gathering ofthe peo ple be." Thus the light of the gospel shone more brightly in every succeeding age, as the time drew nearer in which all its promises were to be fulfilled, and its covenanted Media tor was to be manifested among men. After this period it is hardly necessary to trace the history of the gospel. From the time of Moses the whole scriptures are full of the revelations of gospel mercy. E very sacrifice in the tabernacle or temple ; every type of the Jewish institu tions ; every prophecy and promise of succeeding generations preached Christ to the faith of men. The wonderful visit for the purpose of redemption, which the Lord God of Israel was to make to the earth, in the fulness of his appointed time, was unceasingly proclaimed. The tide of prophecy swells from age to age, until in the time of Isaiah, it has grown into an unlimited flood ; and the gospel is hardly preached with more clearness and power by St. Paul than by him. From the beginning of the world Jesus was made the one great object of faith ; and the predictions of his character and office are multiplied until his time and place of birth, his miracles and instructions, his sufferings and the manner of his death, his resurrection and subsequent ascension to glory, are spoken of so particularly and so minutely, that the language of the later prophets, appears to be rather a history of what is past, than a prophecy of what is yet to come. From this history of the gospel, you see that the sinner's ground of hope has been the same from the beginning of the world. The same Jesus who is preached to you for your acceptance, was preached to men from Adam down to Moses, and from Moses to the day in which we live. No child of man has ever passed into the heavens but through his re demption. His offering was equally availing and prevalent for Adam and Abel and ourselves. By his own obedience no man has ever found acceptance before God. But the same Almighty grace which has rescued the believing sinners in this congregation, brought the first ransomed sinner to glory, and every other one since his time. We offer no new com mandment unto you, but that commandment which has been from the beginning, that you should believe on him who has been set up from everlasting, as the one Mediator between God and man, in whose blood alone there is redemption for your souls, even the forgiveness of your sins. How elevated is the view which this subject presents ot the character of Christ ! His love how wonderful, that in terposed for man in the moment of his transgression, when there was no arm that could save, and there seemed no possi- bility of finding any expedient by which the apparently inevitable punishment of sin could be turned aside. How great the power which has been exercised to accomplish this work of redemption in every age. Angels who have wit nessed from the beginning his labours of love, know how worthy he is to receive blessing, and honour and glory for what he has done, and they gladly unite to praise him for all his goodness and all his mercy. Unnumbered multitudes of ransomed saints in the enjoyment of the glory which he has purchased, ascribe all the praise for their redemption unto him. He is the head of all things in heaven and on earth, and all living beings live through him. To the once crucified and now exalted Jesus, the universe, which is upheld by the word of his power, unites to render its thankful homage. How unspeakable is the privilege which this subject pre sents to the true believer in Jesus Christ! The least in the kingdom of heaven is united by an everlasting bond to the glorious assembly who have been redeemed through the blood ofthe Son of God. The Redeemer has but one church. Angels, and living saints, and dead, hut one communion make. The innumerable company of angels are subjected unto him. The ransomed believers in his power, from righteous Abel down to this day, are partakers of his glory; and to this holy and heavenly assembly, the weakest believer before me is eter nally united. The poorest Christian on the earth is the con stant subject of angelic protection and caTe. And though men may despise him, the hosts of heaven delight to watch over him, to minister to his wants, to console his sorrows, to de fend him from dangers, and to bring him to the salvation of which he is made an heir. How delightful is the thought that we are never alone ! In all onr afflictions we have a great High Priest whom angels worship ; who can be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, and remembers whereof we are made. In our seasons of bodily suffering or family distress, in our periods of earthly adversity and wants, he will be a present and all-sufficient help ; when the shades of death are gathering around us : he will stand by us to alleviate our distress and to elevate our hope. He will pass with us through the dark valley that we may be in perfect peace. In the great day of judgment he will own us amidst assembled worlds, as the satisfying travail of his soul. He will pro claim to the universe that we are the jewels whom he has purchased for himself, and over whom he will rejoice for He will accept us, poor and worthless as we are, freely through the value of his own blood, and crown us with everlasting glory in heaven. How unspeakable is the privi lege of being united to the whole company of the redeemed, through the precious and all-sufficient offering which is pub lished to us in the gospel; and that privilege belongs to every one before me, who has sought for refuge in the pre cious blood of a divine and mighty Saviour. How amazing is the conduct of those who persevere in rejecting the mercies which this gospel presents to universal acceptance! With what unutterable joy Adam must have heard of a hope of returning peace ! With what transport Abel must have taken possession of that home of glory to which he was carried so suddenly from the trials of the world ! And why should any of you who need a Saviour as much as they, and to whom the blessings of redemption are as freely offered as they were to them, take upon yourselves the voluntary and persevering rejection of all that Christ has done in your behalf. How much you will desire to see one of the days of the Son of man when the wish will be entirely vain ! It is a fact with the unconverted sinner, despise the assertion of it as he will, that the hour will come, when, trembling and astonished, he will crouch before the Son of man, and beg and cry for the mercy which he has so often cast heedlessly away from him. How amazing is it that the man who knows that death, and judgment and eternity are spread before him, should be willing to throw away a hope, the sufficiency of which he acknowledges, while he has-no- thing to supply its place upon which he dare trust himself. And yet this is the conduct of every unconverted soul before me. There is not a man here, destitute of spiritual religion, but is rejecting what he knows to be a sufficient hope, while the rejection of this hope leaves his soul utterly without com fort and peace. How amazing in the sight of angels must be this course. They wondered when mercy was proposed PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 31 to man. They must wonder still more when this mercy is again offered, after it has been rejected. They must wonder most of all, if sinners still persevere in this rejection, and finally determine to choose darkness rather than light. LECTURE XIII. THE WISDOM OF THE GOSPEL. We speak the wisdom of God in a mystery, even the hidden wis dom which God ordained before the world unto our glory. — 1 Cob. ii. 7. The object which the gospel is to attain, the way in which it is to attain it, and the history of its attainment of this ob ject in past ages, have occupied our attention in three former discourses. I wish now to speak of the several characteris tics of the gospel itself, as a dispensation of divine grace and mercy to man ; to show its unsearchable wisdom, as an expe dient for man's salvation; its almighty power as an instru ment for the accomplishment of this end ; the grace and love which is displayed in the gift which it offers unto man, and its excellency and glory, as a revelation of the character and purposes of God in his relation to fallen man. My present subject is the unsearchable wisdom of the gos pel, as an expedient or plan for man's salvation. The text which I have selected contains St. Paul's descrip tion of this wisdom, as proclaimed by him and his fellow apostles. When he carried the gospel of Jesus to the en lightened and philosophical inhabitants of Corinth, he was aware that they sought after wisdom, and expected him to de velope to them some new scheme of philosophy which should furnish matter for their own speculations. In opposition to this desire of theirs, he professes to them the single determi nation with which he came to them, which was to make known to perishing transgressors, Jesus Christ, and him cru cified, as the only foundation for hope or acceptance before God. This preaching rejected all the enticing words of man's wisdom ; all the false and delusive words of persuasion with which other teachers were accustomed to come to them, and depended for its whole success upon the demonstration of the Divine Spirit and the power of God. He did not attempt to flatter them upon their own powers of understanding, nor to submit to the decisions of their natural and darkened reasons, the truths which he was sent to teach. He told them of their sins and dangers, and he held out to them freely the remedy which divine grace had provided for their wants. Such preaching, which dealt only with men as poor and depraved creatures, which addressed them from an eminence of au thority, as those who were lost, was regarded by them as foolishness, and their proud hearts despised him for the bold assertions which he made of man's necessity and God's abundant mercy. But though he has often adopted their own scornful ex pression, and called the preaching of the cross of Jesus fool ishness, he denies that such was really the character of his preaching. " We speak wisdom," he says, " among them that are perfect," or able to understand us, "yet, not the wis dom of this world ;" no wisdom of man's discovery. " But we speak the wisdom of God in a mystery; the wisdom which has been hidden, but which God ordained before the world to our glory." The apostle here, as in many other places, calls the gospel the "wisdom of God." He describes it as wisdom which reveals such things as eye hath hot seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived ; as wisdom which is revealed to man solely by the Spirit of God ; the Spirit which searcheth all things, even the deep things of God, and which the natu ral or unrenewed man cannot discern or understand. " We speak," he says, " in preaching the gospel, the wis dom of God." This display of Divine Wisdom, which the gospel makes, has before been " hidden in a mystery." It was not clearly revealed until the preaching of Jesus brought life and immor tality to light. It was concealed in the types of the Jewish religion, and in the predictions of the Jewish prophets ; and so hidden in the mysterious representations of the Old Tes tament, that none of the princes or wise men of this world knew it, but in their ignorance of it, crucified the Lord of glory. But although the wisdom displayed in the gospel was hid den in a mystery before its full and perfect revelation, in the coming and sacrifice of the Lord Jesus, it was wisdom or dained before the foundation of the world. The whole plan of bringing from among men many sons to glory, through the sufferings of the Captain of their salvation, was devised and determined before the creation of man ; and the gospel which Paul preached, and which we preach, is but the intelligence of that plan of mercy which God ordained then, for man, as a manifestation of the unfathomable depths of his own wisdom. From this declaration of the apostle I derive my present subject of discourse. The gospel displays the unsearchable wisdom of God which ordained a plan of salvation and glory for sinners be fore the foundation of the world, and concealed it in the mys teries of the Old Testament until he came, in whom all these mysteries were to be fulfilled and made plain. I. The wisdom of the gospel is displayed in the extent of the difficulty which it was required to meet. In this view it may well be called the " wisdom of God in a mystery," for the extent of wisdom displayed is deeply mysterious. In the fall and disobedience of man so many difficulties, and apparently such insurmountable difficulties were created, that all hope of his restoration would seem impossible. A holy being had become a polluted and guilty one. How should he be restored ? The holy and denouncing law of God had been violated. How should the breach be made up ? The majesty and faithfulness of an all-powerful God had been offended. How should it be appeased ? It will be re membered that these questions were now agitated for the first time. All these difficulties had occurred in the case of the angels who had sinned ; but there was no purpose to save them, and therefore there was no necessity to ask, in their case, how the difficulties should be overcome ; with them sin had its perfect work, and the wages of sin was death. In the case of man's transgression there was a previous de termination to save them from the ruin in which they were involved, and the demand for wisdom was to solve the way in which it should be done. We will suppose for a moment that it had been left to man to devise a way for his own restoration to the Divine favour, or that every created mind had been consulted by him for that end ; and can you conceive that any way would have entered into the thoughts of any finite being, but an immediate and absol ute pardon, by a single sovereign act of mercy ? We may see many difficulties attending such an exercise of mer cy ; and whether it would have been at all consistent with the honour of God's character, it is utterly impossible for us to say. None but God can know what it is within the power of God to do. But we may safely say, even if we suppose such an act of mercy, under existing circumstances, possible, it was not the way which would the most highly honour the character of God, nor was it the way which was most suited to the wants of the occasion, and therefore it was not the way which a God of infinite wisdom thought best to adopt. Indeed, while I say we may see many difficulties attending an exercise of absolute mercy, under the circumstances of man, it appears to me entirely proper to say, such an act of mercy would be impossible. God, who delights in mercy, would have spared the sufferings of an innocent and holy Saviour, had the salvation of man been possible without their endurance. How great was the difficulty which was here presented ! and what wisdom was demanded to meet the necessities of the case ! Every thing in the case was new. Every path to be trodden was hitherto untried. The breach which sin had made was infinitely wide. It was an ocean over which no created intelligence could travel ; and the redemption of a single soul was so important and precious, that so far as men or angels were concerned, it must have ceased forever. To meet this infinite demand ; to make up all the difficulties which the case involved, and to bring God and man together across this unmeasured alienation, was required in the gos pel, and here the wisdom of the plan by which it proposes to accomplish the purpose is gloriously displayed. When all created minds acknowledged that the case was hopeless, God brought forward to the view of his creatures the hidden wis dom which he had ordained before the world. He made the fall of man an occasion of manifesting his own glorious perfections. This was his purpose and design, and the difficulty in removing man's guilt, and restoring a ruined world to his favour, and at the same time bringing eternal glory to the character of God, was met and answered in the abundant provisions of the gospel. There is not a 32 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. question to be asked in reference to man's salvation, which the gospel does not answer. It abundantly saves the sinner, and brings the highest glory to God. The wisdom of the gospel supplies all your wants. It makes a guilty being a pardoned and justified one. It con verts a polluted and defiled creature into a holy and perfect one. It satisfies all the demands and denunciations of the law. It perfectly compensates the offended faithfulness and majesty of the Creator, and restores man to God, and recon ciles God to man. The difficulty which existed in the case of the first transgressor remains in the case of every other sinner to be converted unto God ; and the wisdom of the gos pel as an expedient of salvation, is displayed in meeting and supplying this amazing difficulty whenever a sinner is brought home to God. II. The wisdom of the gospel is displayed in the manner in which it glorifies all the divine attributes. While it mani fests abundant mercy on the part of the Great Creator in his dealings with his creatures, it does not in the least degree compromise any other of his perfections in the exercise of mercy. If you will conceive of the relation in which man, as a sinful being, stood towards God, you will see how all the attributes of the divine character were at war with him God had given him a law in the hour of his creation, and had bound that law upon him in the most solemn manner. He had voluntarily and unnecessarily broken that law, and now, in the presence of all beings, the Creator and his crea ture weTe at variance, as it were, in an awful contest, whether the Creator should be true to his word, in the punishment and destruction of the creature, or the creature should triumph in his rebellion over the instability of his God. Angels stopped to witness the result. Fallen spirits watched the progress of this conflict; and there seemed to depend upon the issue the one momentous question, shall God be the ruler of his crea tures or no ? The holiness of God was called to express its abhorrence of sin, as it had done before. The justice of God was called to execute immediate vengeance on those who had committed sin, as it had done upon Lucifer and his host. The truth of God was called to fulfil the threatenings which had been de nounced against sin ; and yet, amidst all these difficulties, God so loved the world that he had determined the whole of men should not perish, but some of them should have ever lasting life. If the transgressor should receive an immediate and un conditional pardon, how should the holiness of God be dis played, or his justice honoured, or his truth preserved invio late? Shall all these glorious attributes be despised and passed over utterly unheeded ? The character of God is glo rious, and must be glorified in the salvation of man ; but how it should be so glorified, the wisdom of men and angels could never determine. No means had been provided for the resto ration of fallen angels, and no angel could tell what means should be provided for the restoration of fallen man. The attributes of God evidently required the punishment of sin. If the idea of a substitute had entered into any cre ated mind, the difficulty was at once seen, how can an inno cent being be punished for the guilty ? Can God accept a substitute ? Can it be imagined that he would inflict, with his own hand, sufferings belonging to the guilty upon one without sin? Here the gospel displays its wisdom. It announces a sub stitute for the sinner. It exhibits the whole system under which this substitute was offered and accepted. But if only the fact that a substitute would be accepted had been suggested, all creatures might ask, where shall one be found who can bear the punishment deserved by the mil lions of mankind ? Were all the angels in heaven able to render such a service to mankind ? Could any one less than the living God himself undertake such a work ? Could it be conceived possible that God should be willing to do this for creatures who had trampled upon his laws ? and if he were willing, how could it be done ? How shall God endure suf ferings for man ? How shall any thing which he thus does be put to man's account ? and if God were willing to become man, and to put himself in the place of man, and do and suffer what man was bound to do and suffer, how could it consist with the holiness and justice of God, to let the innocent suf fer and the guilty go free ? yea, to let the innocent suffer, that the guilty might go free ? The more we enter into the consideration of these things, and contemplate all the difficulties which the holy attributes of God inevitably threw in the way of man's recovery, and the impossibility that any created wisdom should devise a way in which they could be reconciled, we see the wisdom ofthe gospel the more wonderfully displayed. Here divine wis dom interposes; here the wisdom ordained in the councils of the Eternal Trinity, before the world began, is exhibited; and the intelligence of God's own determination unravels every obscurity and doubt, and throws new and infinite hon our upon his own character. Behold this glorious plan. God's co-equal, co-eternal Son, shall undertake for us. A body shall be given him. In the fulness of the time before appointed, he shall be bom as man; as the substitute and surety for our souls, he shall bear our burden of sins in his own sacred body upon the cross. By his own obedience unto death, he shall work out an everlasting righteousness commensurate with the utmost claims of the law for all who believe. Thus every attribute of God shall be honoured, and God shall he just, and the justifier of him that believeth in Christ Jesus. Contemplate this " wisdom of God in a mystery." A mediator ! That mediator God ; that God man ! That Deity incarnate, suffering! Those sufferings borne in the stead of man ! His whole obedience, too, accepted for sin ful man, and imputed unto him ! Sinners by this rescued and reconciled to God. Sinners so reconciled, restored to the divine image, approved of God, justified before the as sembled universe, exalted to the thrones of endless glory!' and all this in perfect consistency with the honour of God; yea, glorifying in the highest degree, the divine perfections J This is God's plan for the salvation of a ruined world. This is the intelligence which the gospel brings. Surely in the contemplation of it we can only exclaim with the apostle, " 0 the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God; how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out !" And with him also, we may declare in refer ence to all who are ignorant of this wisdom, " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard ; neither have entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love him." Would to God we could all say also with him, " God hath revealed them unto us by his spirit, that we might know the things which are freely given to us of God." III. The wisdom of the gospel is displayed in its perfect adaptation to the accomplishment of the great purpose which it designs. The mark of true wisdom is in the best arrange ment of means to obtain a desired end. The great object of the gospel is to seek and to save that which is lost, to con vert sinners unto God, to make a time of restitution through out the world, in which God shall return to bless his creatures, and men shall return to submit themselves to God. It operates upon a lost and ruined world ; and from it, it wishes to bring many sons unto glory. Its wisdom is manifested in its being perfectly adapted to accomplish this whole end. The provisions of the gospel are the evidence and fruit of God's reconciliation to man. The one great offering for sin which it presents has made up every breach, has taken away every obstacle, has opened to the sinner a path of glory and blessedness. God is able to forgive and save every trans gressor on earth in consistence with his own honour ; and therefore as our last head showed, so far as he is concerned, the wisdom of the gospel is proclaimed in his acknowledg ment that it is sufficient, and that he is willing that all should be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth. But man is yet alienated, and must be brought home to God ; and the gospel shows the wisdom of its plan in its perfect adaptation to the great end of converting him. The great fact of the gospel, the incarnation and sufferings of a glorious Saviour, is the one great instrument of good to the rebel sinner ; and the continued exhibition of this one great fact is the means, and the only means, of bringing back to God the hearts of his creatures. Take the instance of the individual sinner converted unto Gpd, and what has produced the effect upon him which is so manifest ? He was dead in his sins ; cold, heartless and unconcerned.' The one object, then, was to rouse him to reflection, and to produce a true sorrow for sin in his heart. But what could do it? No remonstrance of moral precepts, no appeal to the dominion of reason, no arguments founded upon his own ability to rise. No. Had these been all the instruments employed, he would have remained eternally, as multitudes do under such instruments, a dead and ruined sinner. But he heard of a crucified Jesus. He was made to look upon him whom he had pierced. He saw an agony and bloody sweat drawn out by his transgression. His conscience felt and owned the guilt. A crucified Jesus! This planted PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL- 33 thorns in his pillow ; this made him water his couch with his tears ; this agitated his breast with grief and anxiety. The preaching of the gospel, the exhibition of the great fact of the gospel, convicted him of sin ; ingratitude to a Saviour, conteriipt of his blood, neglect of a soul for which he died, filled him with anguish, and compelfed him to ask forgiveness from him who had borne his sins and carried his iniquities. In this effect the wisdom of the gospel was displayed. It awakened and convinced a sinner who could resist every thing but this one instrument of God. It brought down into the dust of humiliation, a rebel who could harden himself against every other instrument and power, who could mock at all other solicitations as the horse mocketh at the battle. When this rebel was awakened, convinced and made to Cry out in the bitterness of his anguish, the next object was to elevate his affections to God, to bind him eternally to a Saviour, and to save him from going back to the captivity of Satan; but no instrument" could do it save the same gospel. The same great fact Which had aroused him, gave him peace. It was not the moral or natural perfections of the Deity ; it was not the" beauty of his service nor the holiness of his habitation that bound his heart to heaven, and led him to seek the inheritance of the saints in light. It was a bleeding- Lamb, a suffering Emanuel, a Redeemer crowned with thorns, that took away the anguish of conviction, gave him peace in believing, and filled his soul with love to God. He was made alive by receiving Christ to live in him. He was brought to glorify God in his body and spirit, which were his, by feeling that he was bought with a price, and that Je sus had died for him. The life he now lives is sustained by the gospel alone ; ar>d being made one with Christ, through a cordial acceptance of his salvation, he brings forth fruit of holiness unto God. This has been the one Course of proceeding from the begin ning ; and millions of rebellious beings have been awakened, convicted and bound in an everlasting covenant to God, by the operation of this single instrument of good. Here the gospel has displayed its wisdom, and God has been infinitely honoured in the operation of this plan. This is not the wisdom of this world. It appears to be foolishness in the carnal eye. Unconverted men can see no beauty in Jesus, no reason in the simple preaching of what he has done, no connexion between this and any change to be accomplished in the human character. In their proud language it is unphilosophical and absurd. But in spite of all their objections, arid contentions, and pride, it does produce the effect desired when nothing else can do it; and thus shows itself to be the wisdom of God, though from the men of this world it is hidden in a mystery. The apostles went out to tell the simple fact of the cruci fixion and exaltation of the Son of God for the salvation of sinners ; and though all the wise men derided them, their preaching made multitudes cry out together, " Men and brethren, what shall we do ?" and added multitudes to the church who should be saved. They feared no repetition ; they expected no weariness ; they provided for no love of change ; they ceased not to teach and to preach Jesus Christ, and God confirmed his word every where by 'its glorious re sults. We have the same gospel, and it still produces the same effect. Though disputers of this world still deride, the more exclusively and entirely we preach Jesus Christ, the more abundant are the effects upon the hearts and characters of men. When we are willing to trust God's wisdom and to throw ourselves altogether upon the great fact of the gospel, to preach, not ourselves, but Jesus Christ the Lord, we are blessed; sinners are awakened and converted, and God is honoured in spite of all the exclamations of proud and cap tious men : " How can these things be ?" The gospel is the only possible instrument for this end. There is no sinner converted but by its power ; and the wis- d'om of God is thus unceasingly displayed. Every song in heaven, and every true prayCr and thanksgiving upon earth, unites to utter the same truth; we are washed an d made white in the blood of the Lamb ; a*nd mysterious as this wis dom is to the princes of this world, it is wisdom ordained before the world to our glory. These three views display the wisdom of the gospel as an expedient for man's salvation ; the difficulty which it meets, the glory which it brings to God, and its adaptation to pro duce the end which it designs : " We speak the wisdom of God* in a ihystery, even the hidden wisdom, which God or dained before the world to our glory." How vain are the objections which men make to the sys tem of grace and salvation ! This is God's plan. It is Vol. II.— B marked with the wisdom of Ms character. It has glorified him, in an amazing degree, in the effect which it has pro duced throughout the world. Though many of you may see rio reason in this system, and may persuade yourselves to be lieve that there is something in it which is contrary to your reason,' rest assured, if you will throw yourselves with faith upon it, you will find it to be the power of God unto salva tion to your souls. You have not a want which it will not supply. It will meet your whole, necessities. It will abun dantly answer your prayers. , This is the true and proper test of the fitness and wisdom of the gospel ; the test of experience. Try this system. Taste and see that .the Lord is. gracious. To this point would I lead your affections and plans. I cannot stop to argue about the externals of this plan before the tribunal of man's wisdom. You may be speculatively believers, while you are practically unbelievers. You can know nothing of the wisdom or the fitness of the gospel, unless you are. will ing to receive it and, try it under the shape in which it comes to you as a Temedy for your diseased and ruined souls. , If you are willing to be convinced of your necessities ; if you are ready to acknowledge that you have deep ,and fatal spiritual wants, and are' willing to lay yourselves down as a free offering to a crucified Saviour, this gospel will tell you all you can desire to know, and give you all you can need to possess. Your purblind reasons may urge , a thousand questions which God has not answered, and which man cannot an swer, about this heavenly system. ; and you may be persuaded to say, I cannot accept it because I cannot understand it. This is no fair pr accurate test of any remedy for evil. Go with a deep conviction that you are guilty, and deserve con demnation ; that you are ruined, and have no help. Go with a penitent and sorrowful spirit, in remembrance of your sin, looking upon the load you have heaped upon a dying friend. Go with the language of unfeigned humiliation, with a sin cere desire to obtain pardon and peace in the relation be tween your soul and God. Go thus to the feet of Jesus, and ask for the remedy which he bestows. If, then, you are sent back empty, if you find that the gospel can do nothing for you, that your load of guilt is unremoved, and your souls have no peace with God, then may you, with much greater show ef reason, pronounce upon the unfitness of the gospel to answer your necessity. But until you have tried and found the trial vain, you cannot, with the least propriety, urge a single ob jection to the terms and operation ofthe gospel. Are you willing to make this trial ? Are you ready to test, by experience, the sufficiency of Christ ? He invites you ; he advises you ; he warns you ; he encourages you ; he intreats you all to submit your wills, yOur desires, your characters, to him ; arid by his Spirit he will enable you to know and un derstand the things which are freely given you of God ; and this acceptance . of the gospel shall furnish you a salvation that can be obtained by no other instrument or method. LECTURE XIV. THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL TO SAVE. It is the power of God unto salvation, to every one tliat be lieveth. — Romans I. 16. This is the reason which the apostle gives why he was not ashamed of the gospel of Jesus. Of an instrument of such power and so much good among men, he might well glory wherever he went. In the eyes of the self-righteous Jews the gospel of Jesus was a stumbling-block, because it allowed nothing to human merit. And with the conceited Greeks it was accounted foolishness, because it paid no deference to the arrogant claims of human reason. But, notwithstanding it was in conceivable to those who confided in their own wisdom, that the salvation of man should be effected by any means appa rently so unsuited to the end, St. Paulhesitated not to affirm, in the face of all opposition, that the gospel would be power ful for the production of the end which was intended, that it wbuld operate as the power of God unto salvation to every one who believed. The power of the gospel as an instrument of salvation, is the subject which I desire to present to your attention at this time. 34 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. It may be regarded under the two aspects of the power which is exercised for us, in the personal work of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the power which is exercised in us, by the operations of the Holy Spirit. I. Consider the gospel as the great instrument of salvation in what it does for us. The law held us in bondage,, kept us under condemnation, bound us over to endure the everlasting wages of sin. This bondage the gospel has broken ; it has released us from all condemnation ; it has provided a sacrifice which can answer every claim of the law, and given a new and glorious hope to those who were without hope. In the obedience which Jesus has rendered to its precepts, and the satisfaction which he has made to its penalties, the law has been silenced in every demand, and the power of the gospel for salvation has been exhibited. And under the gospel, by this work of the Redeemer, as our substitute, God can exercise mercy to those whom the law has condemned, without setting aside, in any degree, the authority or sanctions of his law. Again, Satan held us in captivity; we were under the power of the god of this world ; and he exercised over the hearts and habits of all a ruinous dominion. From his power the gospel rescues us. The Lord Jesus has destroyed him that had the power of death. When he hung as a bleeding man upon the cross, and was to all appearance subdued and destroyed, then he triumphed over Satan and spoiled his principalities and powers, and made a show of his conquest openly. And this one fact, the death of Jesus upon the cross for sinners, has been the single great instrument by which Satan's kingdom has been demolished, and the Saviour's empire has been established throughout the world. The power of the gospel for us is exhibited in heaven, in the accepted sufficiency of the Lord Jesus, in his prevailing intercession as our great High Priest, and in the continual crowning of the subjects of his redemption for his sake. It is exhibited on earth in the providence which causes all things to promote the salvation of sinners ; in the continual progress of truth, and its conquest over error throughout the world ; in the justifying of innumerable multitudes of sinners, and giving the guilty consciences of men peace with God ; in the unceasing triumphs which it accomplishes over death, and in the ransomed souls whom it brings to eternal glory. It is exhibited in hell, in the restraint which it has put to the power of Satan ; in the limits which it affixes to his de signs of malice; in the subjection which it compels him to acknowledge to the Lord Jesus, as the head over all, and in the triumphs which it is attaining over him among men from day to day. To the universe, the gospel is thus presented as the power of God for salvation in behalf of sinners. For them it has provided a satisfaction and righteousness sufficient for the whole world. For them it has opened a new and living way of salvation, abundant for their universal acceptance. For them it is daily finishing its works of grace, and adding new beings to the triumphant hosts of heaven. This power of the gospel, as exercised for us in the offer ing and intercession of the Lord Jesus Christ, I pass over thus cursorily, because my chief object is to display the power of the gospel unto salvation, as exercised within us. Under this view, II. It is the power of God unto salvation, to every one that believeth. When we consider the whole progress of the gospel in the world, and reflect upon the innumerable multitude of souls whom it has actually rescued from the bondage of sin by the power of the Holy Ghost, we behold the power of God more remarkably displayed in this than in all the works of creation. We have seen the little stone cut out of the mountain with out hands, as the gospel is called in the book of Daniel, grow into a mighty mountain, and establish itself in all the king doms of the earth. We have seen millions of sinners sub mitting their hearts to a doctrine, at first every where spoken against, upon the testimony of a few poor and despicable persons; to a doctrine diametrically opposite to the propensi ties of their own natures ; involving unceasing self-denial, and the assumption of a severe and painful cross. We have seen this submission made in hope of a reward from one whom they have never seen, and in whom, if they had seen him, they would have found no beauty by a natural eye for which he should be desired ; and this reward, too, whatever it might be, deferred for a long time, and offering, in the meanwhile, no ground of assurance to expect it, but a faith in his power who has promised it, and requiring a perpetual contest with persecution and suffering and death. Having seen all this, how elevated is the view which is presented of the power of the gospel of Jesus. How many souls have been rescued from the power of that wicked ad versary who leads men captive at his will ! And by what means have they been delivered from its chains? Not by human eloquence or the powers of moral suasion in a single instance. Nothing but the gospel has ever emancipated a single soul, or brought one to the enjoyment of lasting peace. But this has been, in every age, quick and powerful, and sharper than a two-edged sword, and has turned thousands"1 from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God. There have been multitudes in every age who were living witnesses of its power; who by its enlightening, com forting and sanctifying efficacy, have been created anew, and filled with joy and peace in believing. These effects the world still beholds. It wonders at them, and is unable to account for them. They are seen wherever the gospel is faithfully administered. The simple exhibition of Christ crucified is still as truly and effectually as ever a hammer which breaks in pieces the rocks, and a mould which forms into the likeness of Christ those who are subjected to its divine influence. Wherever you look abroad upon the Christian church, you see the power of the gospel displayed. In every year mi- riads are converted by its influence unto Christ; angels look with joy upon its operations, and the name and character of the Lord Jesus are glorified in its results. Extensive re vivals of religion, under the simple preaching of its truth, show upon a large scale its power unto salvation. With false systems of doctrine, all the talent and eloquence of men convert no sinner's soul, while the lifting up of a crucified Jesus, though feebly done by the talent of the preacher, is drawing all unto him. Under other preaching, religion dies, and hardly the form of godliness remains. Under the preaching of the cross, grace, mercy and peace are multiplied among men, and God confirms his word with the demonstration of his Spirit and with power. III. The power of the gospel is displayed in that gracious operation which brings back every individual sinner to holi ness and peace. 1. In the awakening and conversion of sinners, in the turning of their hearts from the power of Satan unto God, the gospel displays its power unto salvation. The natural mind of man refuses all subjection to the will of God. The strong man armed keeps his palace, and his goods are in peace. Without concern for himself, and in a determined' conflict with his Creator, the sinner sets himself to oppose the grace of Jesus ; and it is only as he is subdued by a power stronger than he, that his soul is spoiled of its rebel lion, and renovated in love. In the accomplishment of this conversion, the gospel is mighty through God, to the pulling down of strong holds, and every imagination which exalteth itself against God. When Jesus stilled the tempest with two words, " Peace, be still," men wondered at the exhibi tion of his power, and exclaimed, " What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him?" The con version ofthe sinner is a far greater work than the stilling of the ocean. The sea will sometimes be calm of itself; but the wicked are always " like the troubled sea when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt." To still the raging sea, and to subdue the sinner's soul into the calmness and beauty of a spiritual life, the gospel, as the word of Jesus, is the-chosen instrument. It is made the savour of life unto life, and new-creates the sinner, not by the will of man or the will of the flesh, but by the power of God. The minister of Jesus speaks in the ears of a dead man, whom no thunder could have awakened, and he rises up to give glory to God. Christ calls upon men to deny them selves, to part with their sins, which they have esteemed their ornament and subsistence; to stand at defiance With the allurements and opposition ofthe world, and to rejoice if they are counted worthy to suffer shame for Christ's sake, and they obey him without consulting with flesh and blood. Those affections which are bound to the earth are lifted up to lieaven. That spirit which boasted in rebellion against God, yields to him with the submission of a lamb ; and the same man who proudly said, "I will not have this man to reign over me; who is Lord over me?" now says, in an humble dependance upon Christ, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" This change of character and heart the gospel has accomplished; and thus, in the conversion ofthe trans gressor, shows itself the power of God unto salvation. 2. In the free justification of the sinner before God, and giving him acceptance and peace of conscience, the gospel PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 35 displays its power unto salvation. It comes to the penitent transgressor as a ministration of righteousness, as a word of reconciliation and peace. It opens the prison doors and bids the captive go free. The power of the law was great, as represented in the mighty thunderings with which it was given ; but in comparison with the gospel, the law was weak, and could make nothing perfect. The power of the law wq.s for destruction. The power of the gospel is a life-giving power. The law could only hold down the man who was down before ; it could never give him life again. But the power to give life is far greater than the power to kill. The gospel is thus mighty to pass by transgressions and sins, to set at liberty the souls that are bound, and to give boldness in the presence of the King of Saints to the poor captives of Satan. When the sinner's heart is brought under the influence of the gospel by the power of the Holy Ghost, it takes away the burden of guilt ; it silences every accuser ; it fills the be liever with the confidence of hope ; it forbids every weapon to prosper which is formed against him, and condemns every tongue which rises up in judgment against his soul. The justification which the gospel gives is a perfect and entire one. The sins of a life, however accumulated, however ag gravated, are blotted out in one moment, and that for ever, A new and perfect righteousness is bestowed upon the par doned sinner; and he stands before God, not only without a stain of guilt, but with a character as perfect, and a title to an inheritance of glory as entire, as if he had never trans gressed against God. In the justification of the believer, the gospel makes every thing sure. "Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifieth ; who is he that condemneth ? It is Christ that died, yea, rather that is risen again; who is at the right hand of God for ever." . And where he is his fol lowers are also to be. In this total change in the relation of a sinner towards God, the gospel shows its power; it turns aside the edge of judgment, and rejoices in a victory over condemnation ; and relieving a soul from fear, from danger, and from death, it shows itself to be the power of God unto salvation. 3. The gospel displays its power unto salvation in its pro gressive sanctification of those whom it has converted unto God, and justified in the righteousness of Jesus. It is the f'eat and only instrument of making men holy. Thus thei edeemer says in his intercession to the Father, " Sanctify them through thy truth ; thy word is truth." In the progress ive exercise of its power to give life, it leads the converted soul every day nearer to the image of God. There is a heavenly teaching by the Holy Spirit, accompanying the word, which forms Christ in the believer's heart more per fectly ; which writes upon his heart the divine law, and makes it his delight to do his will. There is here a continual ex hibition of the power of the gospel. The impression upon an adamant, from a simple touch of the seal, would not be more wonderful than this transformation of an earthly and de graded soul into the divine image, by the preaching of the word of truth. In the gospel we behold, as in a glass, the glory of the Lord, and are changed into the same image, from glory to glory, by the Spirit of the Lord. The application of the great truths, of the gospel to our hearts, by the power of the Spirit, destroys the temptations of sense and appetite; over comes the allurements and terrors of the world ; bruises Sa tan under our feet, and makes us, after the image of the Lord Jesus, holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners ; and in this daily progress of our souls to God, we see new displays of the power of the gospel, and rejoice in him who, by its instrumentality, can make all grace abound in us. 4. The gospel displays its power unto salvation, in uphold ing and preserving those who are brought to a knowledge of its truth. It is the great instrument of keeping every child of God through faith unto salvation. By the divine power attending its ministrations, it is able to keep us from falling, and to present us before the throne of divine glory with exceeding joy. For this it is styled an incorruptible seed ; an abiding- seed in the heart, and brings forth permanent and increasing fruit. It is a tree with perpetual fruit, without any variation for the difference of seasons. Like that tree which St. John saw in Paradise, which brought forth its fruit every month, of twelve different kinds. Thus Jesus promises that every branch in him which beareth fruit shall be purged and made to bring forth more fruit, and they who live in him shall have life mora abundantly. This preservation of divine grace in the heart of man, is a glorious exhibition of power. It is like keeping a spark alive in the midst of the ocean, and sus taining a hope, even against hope. The follower of Jesus is encompassed with. innumerable difficulties. Many heavy loads are united in their pressure upon his soul. He must bear the weight of a wounded spirit ; the sorrows of indwelling sin ; the -burden of a decaying bo dy ; the load of scorn and reproach from Satan and the world. But amidst all these, the gospel gives him beauty for ashes ; the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. When fearfulness and trembling come upon him, and his steps are almost gone, this is his comfort in his affliction,' that the word of God hath quickened him, and that God will perfect that which he hath wrought for his servant. In the midst of all his difficulties, the gospel leads the Christian not to lean upon any created strength, nor to look for the help of man, but to trust only in the word of divine promise, and to cast his whole care upon him who has begun a good work in him, and will carry it on, unto the day of the Lord Jesus. This preserving power of the gospel is displayed in many instances through a long course of years, and in circumstances of great trial and distress. "Eighty and six years," said Polycarp upon the day of his martyrdom, "have I served Je sus of Nazareth." And what can be a more delightful testi mony to the worth and power of the gospel, than that of an old man who has passed through all the sorrows of life, and at the period of gray hairs, when all the charms of earth have lost their power, can say, " I have been young and now am old, yet saw I never the righteous forsaken," to me Jesus is still precious. This testimony is given every day, and God is honoured in the power which his gospel exhibits, to sustain and preserve those who have entrusted themselves to it. 5. The gospel exhibits its power unto salvation, in the final crowning of the saints in glory. For every child of God be fore me, its work of grace shall be fully and eternally accom plished. As the ransomed of the Lord, they shall return to Zion, with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads. They shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away. Then, how wonderful is the display of power which has brought a child of wrath and sin to be an heir of everlasting glory ! The sufferings of Jesus shall then have received their full reward. He shall be glorified in his saints, and admired in all that believe. He shall rejoice forever over the vast multitudes whom he hath redeemed and washed from their sins in his own blood. Countless armies shall as semble before him, with his mark upon their foreheads ; all the fruits of his redemption, plucked out of the jaws of the lion ; begotten again through his word, to the enjoyment of a lively hope, an everlasting possession, and permitted to dwell in the presence of the Lamb forever. Then the salvation of each redeemed soul is finally accom plished, and the gospel has displayed its full and proper power in the conversion, the justifying, the sanctifying, the preserving, and the crowning every subject of the redemption of Jesus. The work in each instance has been the same. A vessel of wrath fitted for destruction has been brought to glory for the master's honour and use ; and unnumbered mil lions who were by nature poor and miserable, and blind and naked, for whom, while they were without strength, Christ died, will be found rescued by the power of the gospel, and , made to shine as the brightness of the firmament, and as the stars, forever and ever. This text teaches us the proper ground of hope. The power of God as promised and exercised in the gospel of Je sus. If you look upon your own characters, you find your selves utterly weak and unworthy. All reflections upon yourselves will inevitably be of the most humiliating and painful character; and if you were compelled to receive the wages which you have earned by your own conduct, you could not sustain the load. You have nothing which you can offer unto God. There is no part of your lives which could furnish you a sufficient hope of acceptance before him, and if he should call you into judgment, it must be to condemn and destroy you. ' But while you are thus entirely deficient in yourselves, there is offered to you in the gospel of Jesus, a sufficient and abiding hope. There the divine power presents itself to your acceptance, as all-sufficient for your wants, and invites you to lean upon it, as a staff which can never be broken. Will you then be persuaded to cast out.all idea of trusting in yourselves ; to renounce all dependence upon your own character and conduct, and to seek a righteousness beyond 36 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. yourselves, in the perfect and spotless obedience of the Son of God. You are simply invited to accept the provisions of the gospel, and as Noah, believing God's word, sought refuge and protection in the ark ; and as the persecuted Israel ite, trusting the divine command, found a shelter in the city of refuge ; so to flee to the work which the Lord Jesus has finished, and plead nothing but that for your acceptance be fore God. If you are convinced of your wants, and of your total inability to save yourself, and are ready to be freely jus tified, and freely saved by the power of Christ, every thing is ready for you. The sacrifice and obedience of Jesus have been accepted in your behalf. God is well pleased in him, and well pleased to save you, for his sake ; and nothing is wanting, but that you, with a penitent and humble spirit, should receive the blessings which are so freely offered you in Christ Jesus. The gospel presents you all a foundation upon which you may securely build. Without fear or doubting you may embrace this glorious hope ; and when you do embrace it in your hearts, all your guilt shall be removed, all your dangers shall pass away, and everlasting light and glory shall rest upon your souls. Do not trust yourselves before a heart-searching God with any other ground of hope, for plead what you will, you will be inevitably condemned. When God riseth up in judgment you cannot answer him, or stand before him, but in the all- sufficient and prevailing merits of an incarnate and suffering Saviour, which have been thankfully embraced and dwelt upon by you. You see to whom all the praise is to be given for the work of salvation. In this work man is nothing. He brings to it no strength, no merit, no claim of any kind. You are to as cribe the whole glory to that mighty Saviour who loved you, when you were dead in trespasses and sins, and interposed his power and his worthiness for you, when you were perish ing, without strength and without hope. To him let your thanksgivings be every day addressed, as you are led on from strength to strength. In him let all your confidence be placed, for what he has promised to do for you, while you are passing the wilderness of life ; and when you are brought to rest, in the presence of his glory, to him will you find yourselves constrained to offer all the honour and praise for what he has been pleased to undertake and finish in your behalf. He is the great object of universal praise ; all the angels of God worship him ; all the spirits of just men made per fect, ascribe honour unto him ; and from our hearts he asks the same tribute of thanksgiving and honour. Give him glory before your feet stumble upon the dark mountains, and he turn the light which you look for into the shadow of death. Be wise in making him your friend while his mercies are offered you in his word, and let the power of the gospel be for you a power to save. For reflect, I pray you, in conclusion, that the same power which the gospel has to save, it has to destroy. It increases the condemnation and misery of those who reject it, and it were far better, never to have heard its gracious invitations, than having heard them, to cast them voluntarily away. To this destroying power of the gospel, to those who reject it, Jesus refers when he says, " Whosoever shall fall on this stone shall be broken, but on whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him to powder." It has an irresistible energy. It comes with an overwhelming force upon those who have de spised its mercies, and makes it better for such persons if they had never been born. This gospel must appear in the great day, as a witness for or against every child of man. It will bear testimony for all who have accepted its invitations, that justice is satisfied, and all condemnation must pass away ; that the Lamb is worthy, and infinite honour and glory must be bestowed. It must witness against all who have refused its mercies, that they are without hope ; the law must take its course, while their condemnation and ruin have been awfully increased, by choosing death rather than life. With a de structive weight it falls upon such, to grind them to powder, to consign them over to everlasting ruin, and to bind them in chains of eternal darkness and death. Happy will it be, for all before me, to have this powerful gospel a witness of approbation and not of condemnation in that solemn day. LECTURE XV. THE GRACE OF THE GOSPEL AS A DIVINE GIFT. The unsearchable riches of Christ.—- Epbesiak-s iii. 8. By this expression, I understand the unsearchable provi sions of grace, which are contained in the gospel of Christ. These provisions the apostle Paul was sent to offer to the gentiles ; and in the whole of his ministrations, he shows us the remarkable difference which there is between that view of the gospel which is the result of speculative exami nation, and that view of the gospel which has been formed from an experience of its life-giving power. The man who examines the gospel upon its exterior, sees much in it to ad* mire, for its beauty of moral precepts, its attractive exam ples of personal character, and its peculiar revelations of the existence and character of God; and upon this ground he adr vocates and enforces the system of religion which he conceives the New Testament to contain. The man who has experienced the power of the gospel to convert and sanctify, forgets these peculiar reasons for valu ing the gospel, in his wondering admiration _ of it, as a system of unsearchable grace for the chief of sinners. Our minds will naturally dwell upon that aspect of this system, with the most constancy and delight, which we feel to be most suited to our individual wants ; and if we have felt our selves to be ruined sinners, and have sought the gospel as a\, remedy for our necessities, we shall pass over every minor characteristic, and adore the exceeding riches of grace which Almighty God has been pleased here to exhibit. This view of the gospel occupied the thoughts and affec tions ofthe Apostle Paul. He seldom speaks of Jesus or his dispensation, except under the idea of a scheme of glorious salvation ; of which, in infinite mercy, he had been made a subject, though he was before a persecutor, a blasphemer, and injurious. Paul's knowledge ofthe truth was the result of an experience of its power, and to the same experience he desired to bring all to whom he addressed himself,- as an am bassador of Christ. No view of the gospel is so honourable to God, or so com forting and suitable to ourselves, as this to which your at tention is now to be directed : the riches of its grace as a divine gift to man. The apostle states to the Ephesians, that God especially designed, in the salvation which he had pro-- vided in the gospel, " to show in the ages to come, the ex ceeding riches of his grace in Christ Jesus ;" and to further and promote -this design, had commissioned him, though less than the least of all saints, to preach among the Gentiles " the unsearchable riches of Christ." I have selected these words of the apostle as a text, he- < cause they show the fact, which it is my design to exhibit-}' in this discourse, that the provisions of grace offered to sin ners in the gospel, are truly unsearchable. They are ade+ quate to supply every want; they, are adapted to every circumstance and relation, of man ; they are sufficient for the necessities of the whole race of men. I. The unsearchable grace of the gospel is displayed in the freeness with which it offers every blessing to man. It requires nothing to be done by us in order to merit its bless ings. It never puts us upon earning an interest in the mer cies which it has provided. To the utmost meaning of the terms, every blessing of the gospel is a free gift of God to.man. They are as much so as the manna which was rained from heaven upon the Israelites, or the water which followed them from the rock in their wanderings through the wilderness. Under this character as free and unmerited gifts, the privi leges of the gospel are presented through the whole inspired volume. The first promise of a Saviour is a remarkable il lustration of this fact. That promise was not given in an swer to any solicitations on the part of our first parents. lhey could hardly be supposed able to conceive of the pos sibility of such a promise. Indeed it was not literally given to them at all. It was included in the threatening which- was denounced by God against the serpent who had de ceived them, and not personally addressed either to Adam or Eve, " I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed ; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel." The Saviour was thus a free gift ot God, a gift unthought of by man; and every blessing which the Saviour brings is as entirely a free gift as himself! "The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord*" The whole amount of PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 37 mercies and privileges which the gospel bestows, are un- clogged with any conditions. The gracious invitations which it addresses to men, are entirely unlimited in their ap plication. " Ho ! every one that thirsteth," it says upon the high places ofthe earth, " and he that hath no money, come buy and eat; yea, buy wine and milk without money and without price." And again, in the conclusion of its book of grace, it says again, " The spirit and the bride say come, and let him that heareth say come, and let him that is athirst come, and whosoever will, let him take ofthe waters of life freely." > Now here is exhibited the unsearchable riches of the gos pel. It comes to creatures who can do nothing to deserve its blessings-, or to acquire an interest in its glorious promises, and presents itself as perfectly suitable to their wants, by of fering freely and unconditionally to their acceptance all the mercies they can desire. Fallen creatures can do nothing to restore themselves. The angels who are confined in chains of darkness can do nothing to obtain salvation from their ruin. They are utterly incapable of meriting God's favour, and we are equally so. No salvation would avail us any thing which required us to do any thing to deserve its be stowal upon us. The whole scripture unites to caution us against the thought of earning grace : " Say not in thine heart, who shall ascend into heaven ? that is, to bring Christ down from above ; or who shall descend into the deep ? that is, to bring up Christ again from the dead. But what saith it ? The word is nigh thee, even in thy mouth and in thy heart ; that is, the word of faith which we preach ; that if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and believe in thy heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart man believeth unto righteous ness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation." Yes, we do preach, as the Holy Ghost preaches throughout the whole Bible, that to receive every divine blessing by faith freely as it is freely offered, is the only office assigned to any child of man. After we have embraced the invitations of the gospel, we have much to do to honour and adorn it in all holy conversation and godliness; yet our first reception of its blessings must be altogether free, and we must stand in debted for them solely to the sovereign grace of God. But while I merely say the gospel shows its riches of grace in offering every blessing freely, I say too little. St. Paul expresses the greatest jealousy upon this subject. He declares that if we attempt to do any thing, however good in itself, expecting by it, either in whole or in part, to merit our salvation, we make void the whole gospel. " Behold I Paul say unto you, that if ye be circumcised, Christ shall profit you nothing." Salvation must be wholly of works, or wholly of grace. If salvation were of works, in ever so small a degree, there would he room for boasting : for we should have done something for ourselves. Whereas, under the gospel, boasting must be utterly excluded ; and salvation from first to last must be received as a free gift of God for Christ's sake. What unsearchable grace is this ! and still more so, if you consider to whom such offers are freely made. The invita tions of the gospel are presented and pressed upon the atten tion of beings universally depraved ; beings who perversely reject all that has been done for them, who; stand out to resist its gracious influence, and to fight against God until they are subdued and led captive by a power stronger than themselves. These gracious invitations of God follow these creatures through all the wanderings of their sinful lives, still pressing upon their attention the solemn call, "Turn ye, for why will ye die." The gospel of Jesus, in the ten derness of its compassion, literally persecutes the sinner with its entreaties that he would be saved. It will not give him up. It is like a rich and noble prince who follows a mendicant up and down, beseeching him to accept the as sistance which he offers ; and thus freely offering, and per- severingly offering, unsearchable riches to sinners who could deserve nothing, who despise and reject the mercies which are presented, and weary the patience ofthe Most High with their perverseness, the gospel displays its unspeakable grace as a gift of God to those who are really perishing in their sins. II. The unsearchable grace of the gospel as a divine gift is displayed in the full and perfect manner in which it com municates its blessings to man. There is not a want in the sinner which it does not abundantly supply. Are we by na ture wretched and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked ! It gives us, without money or price, gold tried in the fire, that we may be rich ; and white raiment to cover us, that the shame of Our nakedness may not appear ; and it anoints our eyes with eye-salve, that we may see. It fills the hungry with good things, and exalts those of low degree. How beautifully, and in what lively colours, is this fulness "of gospel provisions exhibited by the Spirit of God, speaking through the prophet Isaiah in that passage which our blessed Lord applied to himself in the first public discourse which he ever delivered: "The Spirit ofthe Lord is upon me, be cause the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek ; he hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound ; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God ; to comfort all that mourn; to appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the plant ing of the Lord, that he might be glorified." Now this passage precisely illustrates the aspect of gospel grace, which is before your minds, the fulness with which it supplies every want of man ; because it takes a view of man kind in a vast variety of conditions, in every stage of sorrow and distress, and represents the gospel as adapting itself to every different state, and as supplying every want under which men are suffering. Look then upon the fulness of these provisions ; conceive of miserable man in every condition in which he can be im agined ; conceive of him bowed down with a sense of guilt, or harassed with the temptations of Satan, or sinking under persecutions from men, or under the hidings of God's favour, or in the prospect of immediate dissolution ; and in every condi tion the gospel presents him with all that he can want : pardon for all sin, strength against every- temptation, support under every trial, comfort under every affliction, and life everlasting by the simple exercise of faith in Jesus, as life was given to the dying Israelite by looking upon the brazen serpent. If there were a possible situation for which the gospel would not yield a supply, if there were a single thing which it re quired us to furnish from our own store, it would display no unsearchable riches of grace, nor would it be adapted to our necessities. When the Israelites wandered in the wilderness, if they had been provided with bread and water, but had been left to their own guidance, or no miracle had been wrought to pre serve their clothes, or to keep their feet from the effect of long and wearisome toil, how evident is it that the want of any one blessing would have rendered all the others nuga tory and useless. God must supply all their wants, for they had no ability to supply one themselves. Just so is it with us. Should the gospel leave a single necessity unsatisfied, all its other provisions, however rich and abundant, would be in vain. Go, for instance, to the bedside of a dying sin ner, and say, " You must render such and such services to the Lord before you can be accepted by him," what hope or comfort would such tidings inspire? How cruelly would such a message mock the anguish of a man who feels that he can do nothing ; who is conscious that he is sinking into perdition, and must be plucked by some powerful arm from the gulf which stretches beneath his soul ! But tell him, or any other sinner, that " Christ died for the chief of sinners ; that those who come to him he will in no wise cast out ; that sins like scarlet may be made as white as snow ; that there is a fountain which cleanseth from all sin ;" and you offer hope and comfort which are entirely abundant; you present a foundation upon which the soul may build without fear, and may see a sinner made a precious jewel in the Redeemer's crown for ever. Thanks be to God ! there is not a desirable blessing for man which the gospel does not impart to us in our hour of need. Pardon, peace, holiness and joy, are all offered freely, and bestowed abundantly for the Redeemer's sake.. We find all fulness to dwell in Jesus Christ. He is made our wisdom and righteousness, and sanctification and redemption; and receiving from him grace upon grace, we stand complete in him. When our hearts have embraced his sufficiency, we are rich, we are full ; we drink of a fountain which destroys all thirst for every other one, and have no disposition to go from him to draw elsewhere. Jesus is all in all, an answer to every accusation, a remedy for every evil, a supply for every necessity, an eternal antidote to despair. In him we have life abundantly, and feel assured in the hope of treasures passing man's understanding, which he has laid up for us. In this wonderful fulness of supply, the gospel displays riches of grace truly unsearchable ; for ages have past, and no want has ever been found which it could not answer ; and 38 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. the Christian must still exclaim at the close of the longest experience of its power, " O the length and breadth, and height and depth of the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge ! How unsearchable ! how past finding out!" III. The unsearchable grace of the gospel is exhibited in the perfect security with which it bestows its mercies upon the sinner. The cordial embracing of the invitations of the gos pel finally secures to every believer the everlasting possession of its inestimable blessings. The gospel offers us salvation with all its attendant benefits, as the matter of an everlasting covenant, in all things well ordered and sure, confirmed to those who truly believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. It repre sents that covenant as confirmed by God himself with an oath, in order that by two immutable things (that is, the certain faithfulness of divine promise and the additional so lemnity of a divine oath), in which it is impossible for God to lie, we may have strong consolation, who have fled for refuge, to lay hold of the hope set before us. It represents the Lord Jesus Christ as the mediator of that covenant, and all its blessings as treasured up in him for our everlasting benefit. It states these blessings to be treasured up in him, that they may be made finally secure ; because if they were entrusted to the mutability and perverseness of our wills, they would be inevitably lost. The statements of the scripture upon this treasuring up of a believer's hopes in Christ, and their infallible security, as laid up in him, are remarkably strong and expressive. The Lord Jesus Christ is said to live in the believer, and the be^ liever to have died with him. " I am crucified with Christ, nevertheless I live ; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me." If this be our character, and Christ lives by bis spiritual pre sence and influence in our hearts, while Christ lives we shall live also. But the apostle speaks in yet stronger language in another place, addressing himself to the Colossian Chris tians, " Ye are dead ;" i. e. to the world and the flesh, " and your life is hid with Christ in God ; when Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in glory." Here Christ is not only called our life, but our life is said to be "hid with Christ in God;" and because it is so, we may hope that when he shall appear, we shall also appear with him in glory. Let us examine, for a moment, the real meaning of these words. When God first made man, ho committed the life of the whole family to Adam as their head and representative, that they might stand or fall in him ;.but, notwithstanding Adam was made perfect, and had but a single restraint imposed upon him as a test of his fidelity, he fell ; and by this one apostacy brought death and ruin upon his whole posterity. Now, in restoring men to his favour under the gracious sys tem of the gospel, God says, "I will not commit your eternal interests into your own hands ; if I do, so weak are you, so encompassed with temptations, so prone to diso^ bedience, what can I hope but that you will cast them all away and perish. I will give you another covenant repre sentative and head, even my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased, and commit all your interests to him. He shall be your hope. He shall be your life. Your life shall be hid with Christ in God ; then shall I be sure that no enemy shall prevail against you, for he is mighty to save, and none can pluck you out of his hands." This I believe to be the true meaning of the passage re ferred to. But this full and final security of a believer's hopes does not depend upon any single passage of the scriptures. I consider it the statement of the whole scriptures, and insepa rably connected with the gospel as a system of unsearchable grace. Every truly believing soul is given into the hands of the Redeemer, that he may keep it by his own power, " through faith unto salvation." In his intercession to the Father, recorded in the 17th of John, he affirms, that of those who had been given to him, he had lost none; that they had kept his word, and he had bestowed eternal life upon them, according to the divine covenant. St. Paul, in addressing the Philippians, was confident that he who had begun a good work in them would carry it on unto the day of the Lord Jesus. He knew that the same Lord would be the finisher who had been the author of every true faith ; and from this confidence he pressed upon every believing soul the assurance that the Lord would never leave or forsake them, so that they might boldly say, " The Lord is my helper, I will not fear what man can do unto me;" sorrow which it cannot console; and if you' w¥l ^ccentTts and all might trust that what God had promised he was able invitations and offers, it shall be found — ' * This security which the gospel offers to every sinner who flees to it for refuge, gloriously exhibits its unsearchable riches of grace. It gives us an inestimable hope. It assures us that if we are ready to commit ourselves to Jesus " he is able to keep us from falling, and to present us before the throne of his glory with exceeding joy." It bids us be care ful for nothing, but live the life we now live in themflesh, by faith in the Son of God, " who loved us and gave himself for us," to know and remember in whom we have believed, and to be assured that he is able to keep that which we have com mitted to him unto that day, and to presefve us blameless unto his heavenly kingdom. ¦ Thus are the unsearchable riches of gospel grace displayed, It offers with the utmost freedom to every sinner, all ,the privileges and mercies which the Lord Jesus Christ hath, purchased. If he is willing freely to accept them, it bestows upon him fully and perfectly a covenant title to salvation, and all things which accompany salvation ; it communicates, every holy habit and grace, and enables him to walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing ; makes him humble, and watch? fui, and persevering ; and to show its ability to save unto the uttermost, it secures to him finally and unalterably, the bless? ings which it has freely promised, and for the enjoyment of which it has fully prepared him. These unsearchable riches of grace I desire with my whole heart and strength to press upon your acceptance. I would have you experience in your souls the worth, the unspealc-. able worth ofthe gospel of Jesus, and be able to comprehend with all saints, that love of Christ, which passeth know ledge, that your souls may be filled with the fulness of God. These provisions of the gospel are sufficient for you all. They are perfectly sufficient for the comfort, the holiness and the full salvation of every soul in this assembly. They are sufficient for your, comfort. If there be any of j you brought by a view of their own sinfulness to the very j borders of despair, what can they need more than to hear that , God himself has undertaken their cause, has assumed their. \ nature, and expiated their guilt by his own sufferings unto, death ? What could they wish to add to this ? What can, by any possibility, be added to it? If this be not sufficient, what can be? Your sins, though they were more and more aggravated than those of any human being, are but finite still ; they are many, but they may be numbered. The atone ment which is offered for you, and the righteousness which is wrought, out for you are of value infinite. The blood of Jesus Christ will cleanse from all sin, and all who believe in him will be justified from all things from which they could not be justified by the law of Moses. Let a man's sins be of ever so deep a die, they cannot be more red than scarlet and crimson, and these can be made as white as snow. We can hardly conceive of greater guilt than David's, after all the mercies which he had received ; and yet he prays, and prays with success, " Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow;" and, then he acknowledges the abundant efficacy of the remedy. " Thou hast made the bones which thou hast broken to rejoice." What abundant instances the history of the church has given, of the sufficiency of the gospel for the sinner's comfort. Be-, hold three thousand Jews on the day of Pentecost, whose hands were yet stained with a Saviour's blood— scarcely one hour had they believed in this crucified Lord, before they " all ate their bread with gladness and singleness of heart, blessing and praising God." Thus, wherever Christ is preached and received, true joy springs up in the heart. " Though we see him not, yet believing in him, we may re joice with, joy unspeakable and full of glory." This is, .and is to be, the invariable effect of a proper acceptance of the gospel throughout the earth. " Sing, O ye heavens," says the prophet, m looking forward to this day, "for the Lord hath done it; shout ye lower parts ofthe earth; break forth into singing, ye mountains, 0 forest, and every tree therein,, tor the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel. Only let the gospel descend as the dew upon any place, or upon any soul, and " the wilderness will be glad,. and the desert will rejoice and blossom as the rose;" for the Lord, by the ministrations of its unsearchable riches of grace, will comfort Sion; he will comfort all her waste. places; he' will make her wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the Lord; joy and gladness shall be found in every, habitation, and in every soul which receives this gospel,- thanksgiving and the voice of melody. There is not a human also to perform. I comfort to you all. an abundant source of PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 39 These unsearchable provisions of grace are sufficient for the holiness of every sinner' before me. Nothing can ever change the heart of man but the gospel of Jesus. Philosophy and moral precepts labour in vain to renew the character of the sinner. But where the gospel is truly preached, and truly received, the passions of men are subdued, their lusts are mortified, their habits are changed, their dispositions are made new, and they are turned from the power of Satan unto God. The gospel can make you all holy ; it reveals to you a dying Saviour in all the wonders of his love, and thus will create in your souls a desire to love and serve him. It shows you that you are bought with a price ! and then, for this reason, gives you a desire to glorify God in your bodies and spirits, which are his. To carry these new desires into effect', it brings down the Holy Spirit into your souls, and thus strengthens you with might in your inner man, and works within you every good work; sanctifies you in soul, body and spirit, and renders you meet to become partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light. It will fill you with new principles, and impart to you new powers, and give you purposes and dispositions to which you have been entire strangers. Your characters may be entirely purified and cleansed if you are willing to embrace these unsearchable riches of mercy which are offered you in the gospel of Jesus. And finally, these provisions of grace are sufficient for your full and complete salvation. You cannot be placed in a situation in which they will not afford you strength equal to your day. They will make you conquerors, and more than conquerors. They will render your very troubles a source of joy, and your conflicts an occasion for more exalted triumphs. Like Paul, you may glory in infirmities while the power of Christ rests upon you. Like him you may rejoice in the prospect of death, when to depart is to be with Christ. Like him you may triumph in the inseparable love of Jesus, and the complete salvation which he affords, if you are ready to count every thing but loss for his sake ; and with him the gospel shall so carry you through things temporal, that you shall in no wise lose the things eternal. And now let me beseech you to receive these unsearchable riches of Christ. Here is bread from heaven for the famish ing, and living waters for the weary and thirsting soul. Would to God you all felt your need of them, and would hunger and thirst for no other supplies than these ! O let none despise this gracious supply. Whether you are old or young, learned or unlearned, rich or poor, Christ is alike needful for you, and will be alike sufficient for you. Do not persuade your selves that he is unnecessary to you. Do not pour contempt upon him, as unsuitable. Do not attempt to add to him, as insufficient; but accept him, and live upon him as all your salvation and all your desire. Gather this bread of heaven as your daily portion, and refresh yourselves by this living fountain as your, whole delight; and in the strength of this food, go on your way rejoicing. And as ye have jeceived Jesus Christ the Lord, so walk ye in him; rooted and built up in him, and stablished in the faith as ye have been taught, abounding therein with all thanksgiving. LECTURE XVI. THE GLORY OF THE GOSPEL AS A REVELATION OF GOD. And Moses said, I beseech thee show me thy glory. And he said, I will make all my goodness pass before thee, and I will proclaim the name ofthe Lord before thee. — Exodus xxxiii. 18, 19. The privileges granted to Moses in his communications with God were altogether peculiar. It is said the Lord spake unto Moses face to face, as a man speaketh unto his friend ; and the testimony is added after his death, that there arose no other prophet in Israel like unto Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face, in all the signs and wonders which the Lord sent him to do in the sight of all Israel. God revealed his will to other prophets before and after the time of Moses. But no one had the same view of the divine character, and knowledge of the divine purposes which was allowed to him. This difference in his communications, God refers to in the controversy which arose from Aaron and Miriam against Moses. "And he said, hear now my words: If there be a prophet among you, I the Lord will make myself known unto him in a vision, and will speak unto him in a dream. My servant Moses is not so, who is faithful in all mine house ; with him will I. speak mouth to mouth^even apparently, and not in dark speeches; and the similitude ofthe Lord shall he behold."— -Num. xii. 1—8. This "similitude of the Lord," or the apparent glory of the divine presence, Moses saw continually while he was receiving the law from God on the mount. The cloud into which he then entered was the cloud of divine glory that overshadowed the mountain. The request of our text was made after his having been forty days in the mount. It was presented at the door of the tabernacle. Moses had pitched the tabernacle without the camp ; and when he went forth to enter into the tabernacle, the cloudy pillar descended and stood at the door ofthe tabernacle; and the Lord talked with Moses, speaking to him face to face, or in the most free and intimate communication as a man talketh with his friend. The conversation which was then held, includes the request of our text. "And Moses said unto the Lord, See, thou sayest unto me, Bring up this people, and thou hast not let me know whom thou wilt send with me, yet thou hast said, I know thee by name, and thou hast also found grace in my sight. " Now therefore I pray thee, if I have found grace in thy sight, show me now thy way, that I may know thee, that I may find grace in thy sight, and consider that this nation is thy people. " And he said, My presence shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest. "And he said unto him, If thy presence go not with hie, carry us not up hence. " For wherein shall it be known here, that I and thy peo ple have found grace in thy sight ? Is it not in that thou goest with us ? So shall we be separated, I and thy people, from all the people that are upon the face of the earth. "And the Lord said unto Moses, I will do this thing also that thou hast spoken; for thou hast found grace in my sight, and I know thee by name. " And he said, I beseech thee show me thy glory." Moses' petition here, pointed to some more clear and sig nificant exhibition of the divine character than he had yet received. What he had seen of God's purposes and gov ernment, in the revelations which had been made to him, impressed the conviction upon his mind that there was to be a further manifestation of God to man than any which he had yet distinctly understood, and excited the desire in him to behold these peculiar exhibitions of divine glory which should be made to God's people in subsequent ages. All that had been made known to him was in preparation for some future development of the glory of God ; and that glory to which his institutions were thus an introduction, he longed to witness: "And he said, I beseech thee show me thy glory." In answer to this prayer God promised to give him the exhibition of his glory which he desired ; and in complying with liis promise, he revealed to hiiri, as the highest possible manifestation of his glory, those purposes of grace and love which were to be made known and accomplished by the gospel. These remarks naturally lead me here to announce the par ticular subject which I design to consider, as connected with the prayer of Moses. The glory ofthe gospel as an exhibition of the divine character. That I do not here go aside from the real intention and meaning of the passage, it will be my object first to show. Moses' desire was for some fuller exhibition of the charac ter of God. In promising compliance with this desire, God does not direct him to the works of creation; although, from them the invisible things of him are clearly seen, even his eternal power and Godhead. He does not tell him to look upon the sun as it shined, and the moon walking in bright ness, and there behold the glory of the Lord who hath cre ated these things; who bringeth out their hosts by number; who calleth them all by names, by the greatness of his might, for that he is strong in power, and not one faileth. He does not tell him to look upon the awful thunders and earthquakes, and unearthly sounds with which the law had been given upon Mount Sinai, still trembling beneath the footsteps of a descending Deity ; upon the solemn and awak ening displays which were there made of the holiness of a God who cannot look upon iniquity ; although here, as well as in the wonders of creation, it had been often declared that God had shown his glory to men. Neither the glory of divine power displayed in the creation, 40 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. nor the gloiy of divine holiness exhibited in the law, was that manifestation of the Deity, which God chose to style peculiarly his glory. And, passing by both these, were there no notice of what he did intend, we should be left to settle upon the gospel as the only remaining manifestation of the divine character which has been made to man. But the Lord describes his purpose and design most significantly. He says, " I will make all my goodness pass before thee." But where has all the goodness of the Lord been exhibited, but in that wonderful dispensation in which was manifested the love of God, in that he sent his Son to die for us ? and how could all the goodness of the Lord pass before any mind, from which the riches of gospel grace were concealed ? " And I will proclaim the name of the Lord be fore thee ; and I will be gracious on whom I will be gra cious; and I will show mercy on whom I will show mercy." But the name of the Lord, as bestowing sovereign grace and mercy, can be proclaimed only in that gospel which announces God manifest in the flesh for sinners, and the fulness of the Godhead dwelling bodily in a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. Under no other dispensation can God be gracious and merciful to sinners, for no other one makes atonement for sin. Still more minutely describing his purpose, God assures Moses, that it would be impossible for any mortal to behold the full glory of his presence. " No man can see my face and live." He dwells in light inaccessible which no man can approach unto. No man hath seen God at any time ; the only begotten Son that dwelleth in the bosom of the Father, he hath manifested him ; and referring to this new and last ing way of intercourse between himself and sinful men, God says, " There is a place by me, and thou shalt stand upon a rock, and it shall come to pass, while my glory passeth by, will put thee in the cleft of the rock, and will cover thee with my hand while I pass by." That rock was Christ, and here is presented the perfect security with which the glory of God is beheld under the gospel. The believer is hidden in a cleft of the rock ; while even there, but partial displays are yet made of divine glory. " I will take away my hand, and thou shalt see my back parts, but my face shall not be seen." We know not yet what we shall be, but we know that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is ; and even now, though we see him not, yet believing in him, we rejoice with unspeakable and glorified joy. Thus in answer to the request of Moses, the Lord promised to make known to him the rich grace which he had prepared and designed to reveal to men, in'the gospel of Jesus, as the peculiar glory of his character, and thus made known that all-important truth, which angels united to repeat on the eve of the incarnation, that the dispensation which brings peace on earth, and proclaims good will to men, brings " glory in the highest," to the character of God. This was the promise to Moses. It was to be fulfilled on the ensuing day; and early in the morning Moses rose up and went up unto Mount Sinai, as the Lord bad commanded him. " And the Lord descended in the cloud, and stood with him there, and proclaimed the name of the Lord. And the Lord passed by before him and proclaimed, The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiv ing iniquity, and transgression, and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty ; visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, and upon the children's children, unto the third and to the fourth generation. And Moses made haste, and bowed his head toward the earth, and worshipped." Here the Lord proclaimed his name and his glory, and to do it he revealed his purposes of grace, which were to be ac complished in his Son Christ Jesus, recording it forever, that in nothing is the glory of the Lord so wonderfully displayed, as in the grace which passes by transgressions and sins, ac cording to that exclamation of the prophet, in looking forward to the gospel revelation, "Who is a God like unto thee that pardoneth iniquity, and passeth by the transgression of the remnant of his heritage ? He retaineth not his anger forever, because he delighteth in mercy. He will turn again and have compassion on us ; he will subdue our iniquities, and thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea." If then God preached the gospel to Moses as the peculiar manifestation of his glory, which 1 think has been made ap parent, I am warranted in speaking from this passage of the glory of the gospel, as the clearest and most glorious exhibi tion of the Deity which has been made to man. The Old Testament is filled with predictions and types, all pointing to the same glory in the gospel of Jesus. The temple of the Lord is called a glorious rest; a glorious high throne; a house of glory, of beauty, of holiness ; and it is said, that at the dedication of it, " the glory of the Lord filled the house of the Lord." This glory was the cloud which mani fested the especial presence of the Lord. But yet the glory of the latter house was to be greater than the glory of the former house, because there the sun of righteousness was to arise, with healing in his wings, and the gospel was to be preached, with the Holy Ghost, sent down from heaven. In the gospel of Jesus, the dispensation of grace and mercy which has been made through him to man, God has revealed his character and will touis, in a peculiar degree, and there fore it is styled, in the highest possible language of honour, "The glorious gospel of the blessed God." In all the works of God there is glory, because they are his. David for this reason employs the terms glory and hun- dywork, promiscuously for the same thing. " The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth his han- dywork." Whatever he does is glorious from his own cha racter. But the more he communicates of himself to any of his works, the more glorious they are ; and therefore, in the very passage in which David celebrates the glory of creation, he shows the higher glory of the divine revelation and law. " The law of God is perfect, converting the soul ; the sta tutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart." Men stand in higher rank than brutes, and the angels in heaven mount up in loftier grades than men, simply upon this principle, that the more of his own image God has bestowed upon any of his creatures, the higher in station and the more glorious in appearance they are. Now, of all the manifestations of himself which the Deity has made, there is none in which he may be so fully known, communicated with, depended upon and praised, as the gos pel of Jesus. This is a glass, in which the angels who sur round his throne, see and admire the unsearchable riches of his grace ; and in which they behold, in his mercy to men, a rev elation of his character, that they never elsewhere witnessedi In creation and providence, God is seen clearly and won derfully ; but it is only as a God of power and wisdom, pro ducing and upholding all things to promote the glorious end for which he has designed them. In the law, God is displayed solemnly and truly ; but it is only as a God of vengeance and recompense, threatening and executing wrath upon those who offend against him. But in the gospel he is exhibited as a God of boundless compassion, as a God of love ; and his power and his wis dom, and his faithfulness, all come in as subservient to his bounty and grace. Here we behold his glory, full of grace and truth. We see him humbling himself, that he might be merciful to his enemies ; suffering in himself, that he might bear the punishment of their transgressions ; and removing every obstacle to their forgiveness and acceptance, that he might not only offer thern pardon, but beseech them to be pardoned and reconciled to him again. tn the creation, he is a God above us ; in the law, he is a God against us; in the gospel alone, he is "Emanuel;" God with us, God like us, God for us. It is the gospel which reVeals God to us as he is. He is invisible in himself; we cannot see him but in his Son. He is inaccessible in himself; we cannot approach him but through his Son. Would we therefore behold his glof*j we must seek it in the acceptance and study of that dis pensation which proclaims him to be " the Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long suffering, abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin !" But while I make these general assertions of the gospel, as a revelation of the character of God, and proclaim its glory as a dispensation, on this account, it will be more satisfactory to look into its contents more minutely, and see how the gospel exhibits in their full glory the different per fections of the divine character. The great object which God designed to secure by the gospel, was the salvation of men. To the attainment of this object, the attributes of God interposed serious obstacles. In the dispensation of the gospel, these obstacles have been re moved, and the attributes of God displayed in consistent and glorious operation. Just in proportion in which there was difficulty in reconciling the divine perfections, does the gos pel which has accomplished this reconciliation display their glory and manifest its own excellency. By it the perfections of God are far more gloriously ex hibited than they could be in any other method. For in stance, suppose that man, with all his descendants, had been PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 41 consigned to misery as the consequence of his sin. The jus tice of God would have appeared, and his truth woujd also have been seen; but it would not have been known that there existed in the Deity any such attribute as mercy ; or that if it did exist in him, it could ever find a fit scope for exercise, since the exercise of it must necessarily involve in it some remission ofthe rights of justice, and some encroach ments upon the honour of the law. On the other hand, if free and full remission of sins had been granted unto man, it would not have been seen how such an act of grace could be consistent with the rights of justice and holiness and truth. In either of these alterna tives, the character of God would have been but partially displayed, and his creatures would never have seen him as he is. But in the method of salvation which the gospel re veals, not only are all these perfections reconciled, but they are all enhanced and glorified ; and a tenfold lustre is thrown upon them from the gospel, beyond what could ever have beamed forth in any other way. We will consider some of these distinctly. The gospel exhibits the divine justice far more gloriously than it would have been displayed in the condemnation of the whole human race. Behold the view of justice which it presents. The Lord Jesus Christ, " God over all," puts himself in the place of sinful man, and undertakes to endure for man all that the sins of the whole world have merited. But will justice venture to seize on him ? Will it draw its sword against him who is Jehovah's fellow ? Will not the sword of justice, stretched out against him, refuse to execute its appointed work? No. Sin is found on our incarnate God. It is true, it is in him only by imputation ; yet being imputed to him, he must be answerable for it, and endure all that it has merited from the hands of God. Behold, then, for the honour of God's justice, the cup is put into the hands of our blessed Lord, and the very dregs of its bitterness are given him to drink ; nor is he released from his sufferings until he can say, " It is finished. I have completed the work thou hast given me to do." Contemplate this myste> rious fact. The God of heaven and earth becomes man. By his obedience and death, he satisfies the demands of law and justice, in order that God may be just, and yet the justifier of them that believe in Christ Jesus. With nothing less than this could justice be satisfied. It could not consent to the salvation of a single human being on any other terms. Be> hold, then, how exalted is its character ! how inalienable are its rights ! how inexorable are its demands ! In all that it inflicts upon men and angels, it is not so highly glorified as in this stupendous mystery. But if the gospel so gloriously exhibits divine justice, see how it displays the divine mercy. This attribute would have been displayed, if man, by a mere sovereign act of grace, had been pardoned. But it would then have triumphed over the concealment of all other attributes of the Deity. It shall be brought to light, but only in such a way as shall consist with the honour of every other attribute, in a way by which God may be " a just God and a Saviour." God's dear Son shall be substituted in the place of sinners. The Creator of the universe shall become a man. He shall have the sins of a rebellious world laid upon him, that man, worthless man, may be spared. Shall mercy be exercised with such sacrifice as this ? Yes. EveTy thing but God's honour shall give way to it ; and when that can be secured, no sa crifice shall be esteemed too great to save a perishing world, Go now to Bethlehem, and see that new-born infant, your incarnate Lord, " God manifest in the flesh." Who sent him thither ? Who brought him from his throne of glory into this world of wretchedness and sin ? It was mercy struggling in the bosom of Almighty God, and prevailing for its development in this mysterious way. Go again to Gethsemane and Calvary ; behold that inno cent sufferer prostrate upon the earth, bathed in a bloody sweat, suspended on the cross, agonizing under the load of his creatures' guilt, crying, in the depths of sorrow, " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" Who has brought him to this state? It was mercy, Mercy would not rest ; it would break forth ; rather than not exercise itself towards mankind, it would transfer to God himself the penalty due to them ; and write, in the blood of an infinite and holy Saviour, the pardon it designed for sin ful man. How glorious is this display of mercy ; and where but in the gospel of Jesus could it be beheld so honourably and so clearly exhibited. Add to this glorious exhibition of justice and mercy, the manifestation which the gospel makes of divine faithfulness Vol. II.— E and truth, and you will see sufficient reason why, in answer to the prayer of Moses, " Show me thy glory," God should preach to him the unsearchable riches of Christ. God had surely threatened death as the punishment of sin. When therefore man had sinned, what remained but that the penalty denounced should be executed immediately? The word had gone forth; it could not be revoked, nor could its sentence be reversed, consistently with the sacred rights of truth. What then shall be done ? If the sentence be executed on man, the veracity of God is undoubtedly displayed and honoured. But how can man be spared, and God's truth be preserved inviolate ? In no other way than the substitution of God's own Son in the sinner's place. This proposal truth willingly accepts, gladly trans fers the penalty to him, and joyfully inflicts on the voluntary sufferer the sentence denounced against the offender : Here "mercy and truth have met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other." All the perfections of God are made to harmonize in the salvation of man, and all are displayed in a more clear and glorious manner than they could be in any other method. Justice is exercised in a way of mercy; mercy is exercised in a way of justice; and both of them are manifested in the way of holiness and truth. This is one view of the glory of the gospel as a divine dispensation. The clear and sublime manifestation which it makes of the character of God. While all his works praise him and his saints give thanks to him, it is this dispensation which proclaims his name and his honour : " The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long suffering, and abun dant in goodness and truth ; keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin ;" and for this reve lation of his character, it is well called "the glorious gospel of the blessed God." While this glory of the gospel should lead us to speak with all boldness, and never to be ashamed to declare its power and its worth, it should lead you to remember how worthy it is of all men to be received. This faithful saying is worthy to be accepted with all readiness of mind ; worthy to be welcomed, like the star of the wise men, with exceed ing great joy; worthy to be enamelled in the crowns of princes, and to be written in the soul of every Christian with a beam of the sun, " that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." The faithful have ever been ready to unite in the exclamation of the inspired prophet, " How beautiful are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace, that bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation, that saith unto Zion, thy God reigneth." What man of sorrow would not open his heart and welcome the embraces of that messenger who was coming to him with more lovely and acceptable news than the very wishes of his heart could have framed for himself? When Joseph was sent for out of prison to Pharaoh's court, and when Jacob saw the chariots which were sent to carry him to his long lost son, their spirits were revived and comforted after their long distress. When Caligula, the Roman emperor, sent for Herod (that Herod who was af terwards smitten by an angel of God), whom Tiberius had bound in chains and cast into prison, and placed a diadem upon his head, and for his chain of iron gave him a chain of gold of equal weight, the historian says, "Men could not believe the reality of a change so wonderful." - Now what are all good tidings to the gospel, which is a word of salvation, which opens prisons and releases cap tives, and gives a joy with which the world intermeddles not? "Your joy no man shall take from you." O how worthy is such a gospel to be accepted and improved. If we suffer the loss of every thing for Christ, godliness is great gain after all. In a shipwreck, I throw my goods overboard, and count myself happy to get my life in ex change. O how willingly, then, should the man who is convinced of the danger of his soul, cast off every thing which presses him down ; and rejoice, with unspeakable joy, to have his soul saved from an eternal shipwreck, and to be brought before God in peace ! Have you no desires to see the glory of God displayed in the face of Jesus Christ, or to enjoy the presence of God, made peaceful and happy for you by the sprinkling of the blood of Jesus ? Can you deliberately make the choice, that while hereafter myriads of ransomed sinners rejoice in the glories of a full salvation, your souls should see God only as an avenger of blood? It is a painful alternative which is presented to you, but it is the only possible one. God is dwelling among you in the riches of gospel invita tions and in the fulness of spiritual strength. In the persons 43 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. of the Son and the Spirit, he would be received into your bo soms, and rule over all your affections and purposes. But if he be rejected by you to the end, you will be constrained to see him appearing in the glory' of his government, to take vengeance on them that know not God, and obey not the gos pel of our Lord Jesus Christ." The glorious gospel which is offered you now, forms the highest honour of your souls. It brings you a king having salvation, and makes you with him, kings and priests for ever. Happy are the people that know the joyful sound, they shall walk in the light of his countenance ; and blessed will you be, though in the midst of reproaches and tribula tions, if you are led to welcome salvation to your hearts, and to wash your robes and make them white in the blood of the Lamb. LECTURE XVII. THE GLORY OF THE GOSPEL FROM ITS METHOD OF PUBLICATION, How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bring eth good tidings, that publisheth peace, that bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation, that saith unto Zion, thy God reigneth. — Isaiah ii. 7. No one would be led to doubt, probably, in the most cur sory reading of this text, that it was intended to refer to the publication ofthe gospel of Jesus Christ. But if there should be such a doubt, St. Paul has decided the proper application of the passage in his epistle to the Romans, by adducing it as a reason for sending preachers of the gospel throughout the world. Speaking of the messengers of th.e gospel, he says, "How shall they preach except they be sent?" as it is written, " How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things." It is then the gospel of Jesus, the ministry of which is said to be so excellent and desirable. This gospel, in its very name, is glad tidings ; it is a publication of peace be tween God and his alienated creatures. It is good tidings of everlasting good through the mediation of a crucified Re deemer to those who return unto God and live. It is salva tion, full, free, eternal salvation to every one who accepts its tidings with a thankful heart ; salvation from present despair and misery; salvation from everlasting sorrow and punish ment, the just wages of sin. It is a glorious annunciation to Zion, or the people of the living God, that their God, an incarnate God, a justifying God, reigneth for ever more. He who proclaims to a ruined world that Jesus reigns as a Prince and Saviour, to give repentance and forgiveness of sins, in the proclamation of this one great truth, tells the whole system of gospel grace, publisheth salvation, bringeth good tidings of good, publisheth peace. The people who hear the joyful sound are a highly privileged people; the heart that embraces the" glad intelligence is a converted and thankful heart. The man who welcomes the precious truth, finds it all his salvation and all his desire. And the com munity and nation upon which its beneficial influence is ex erted, is converted from a wilderness into the garden of the Lord, a place in which the Lord delights to dwell. In the text the prophet rejoices in a view of their happiness and glory who are allowed to minister this gospel of peace. He derives the figurative expression, " how beautiful upon the mountains," from the local situation of Jerusalem. That city was surrounded by mountains, which were consi dered alike its glory and its defence. The Psalmist adduces this peculiarity of its location as an illustration of divine protection to the people of God. "As the mountains stand round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his peo ple, from henceforth, even for ever." From whatever direc tion a messenger catoe to this city, his path crossed the mountains. In the text the prophet is carried forward to hear the publication of gospel mercies ; and in the glorious prospect of this publication of grace, the circumstances of his own city furnish him an illustration of his feelings. As the sight of a bearer of any joyful tidings to Jerusalem was delightful to those who watched him crossing the sur rounding mountains, so in a still higher degree, beautiful upon the mountains, i. e. beautiful at the most distant point from which they can be seen, are the feet of him who comes with more joyful and valuable intelligence to men than they have ever heard before, who comes to proclaim to the waiting people, of God, the tidings that their God, Emanuel, reigns as the Author of salvation, and the Prince of everlasting peace. The text contains an extensive exhibition of the excellency and glory of the gospel, as a dispensation of God's goodness to man. The particular view of this glory, however, which it leads me to propose to your present consideration is, The glory of the gospel arising from the method of its publi cation. In considering this subject, I shall speak I. Ofthe character of its various preachers. H. Of the providence which has attended its publication. III. Of its triumph over every species of opposition. I. In speaking of the preachers of the gOspel in various ¦»-* the exclamation, " how beautiful, how glorious," may be most equitably applied. The gospel has been at all times highly glorious and ex alted in this aspect of its publication. God himself, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, who created the world, visible and invisible, by the word of his power, was the first preacher of these good ti dings of good. On the very day of man's transgression he descended with a promise of grace. In that promise he held forth to view a Saviour who should be miraculously con ceived as man, and should be a bruised and yet a finally tri umphant Saviour. This promise contained the elements of the whole gospel dispensation. And while Adam, as a sinner, trembled before the visible glory of his Creator, as a believer he was enabled to see with rejoicings glory in this exhibi tion of the gospel far more excellent. Through the whole patriarchal and prophetic ages the gospel was administered to the faith of men, by those who spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost ; and was glo rious in its ministry from its being the peculiar subject and end of all intelligence from God to man. In the personal ministry of Jesus, a Saviour miraculously born, a God incarnate for man, the most exalted gjory was connected with the gospel. "Never man spake like this man," said they who were sent to apprehend him for punish ment. All wondered at the gracious, or becoming and en nobling words which proceeded from his mouth. All creation listened to his voice and obeyed his irresisti ble commands. Things animate and inanimate alike yielded to his control ; the sea heard him, and was still ; the earth heard him, and opened ; the dead heard him, and awoke to life; the blood-thirsty multitude ofthe Jews heard him, and went backward and fell to the ground ; the spirits of dark ness heard him, and departed from men. All this exercise of power elevated the character of the gospel dispensation, because it displayed his rank and glory who had come to the earth solely to declare it. Jesus ap peared simply as the great preacher of gospel grace, and all the honour which appertained to his character as a messen ger, was reflected upon the message with which he was charged. And highly glorious and excellent indeed was that dispensation which brought the Deity to earth, as a preacher of its truth. His ministry was honoured by the annunciation of angels, and by the proclamation of a divinely appointed herald; and though he was despised and rejected by a portion of men, yet honour was paid to him in his humiliation by heaven and earth. But during his earthly ministry he was comparatively in a cloud. His real glory was eclipsed by the burden of man's afflictions, temptations and sins ; and it was in the subsequent > ministry of his apostles that his divine power and sufficiency were really displayed. Then, when the gospel was preached with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven, and the Lord confirmed his word with wonders and signs following, the honour of the Son of man was gloriously exhibited. The apostles acted in the name of Jesus of Nazareth ; and this name was every where the signal of divine and unlimited power. The miracles which Jesus wrought in person, while on earth, they wrought in his name after his ascension to glory. And in addition to all these mighty signs and wonders, the conversion of myriads of immortal souls from the power of Satan unto God, did honour to that dispensation of the gospel which had been committed unto them. How beautiful, then, in the eyes of the multitudes through out the earth, who were asking the way to life, were the feet of those who published with such authority and effect glad tidings of peace and salvation through the merits of a cru cified Lamb ! And how glorious in their ministry was that PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 43 fospel of the blessed God which triumphed over error, par- oned sin, consoled the disconsolate, and gave life from the dead, in the name of our great God and Saviour Jesus Christ, to every believer in its truth. But while through all these periods of time the glory of the gospel was displayed in the character and rank of its preachers, can we adopt the same assertion of the present ministry of the gospel 1 Now, the excellency of this divine treasure is committed to fallible, weak and sinful men ; they have no miraculous powers entrusted to them ; they have no ¦ signs and wonders to follow their utterance of the name of Jesus ; they have no power to overrule or punish the diso bedience of those who obey not the gospel; and, generally speaking, they have no excellency of speech or of wisdom to command the attention of those who cannot be attracted by the truth. Is the gospel still glorious in the character of its preachers ? And are the feet of those who publish it still beautiful upon the mountains ? Yes, there is still a preacher of the gospel among men, without whose influence, signs and wonders would be power less, and the tongues of men and angels utterly unprofitable. He follows the sinner with a boldness which is always un daunted, and tells him hourly in his face, " thou art the man." He carries glad tidings with a forbearance which will not be wearied, and beseeches, " to-day, after so long a time, if ye will hear, harden not your hearts." He grasps the conscience with a hold which will not be shaken off, and awakens the transgressor with a solemn cry, " escape for your life." He binds up the heart which he has broken, with more than a mother's tenderness, while he leads the soul to Jesus, and says, " believe, and he will give you rest." There is none who teacheth like him ; and while we preach the gospel with the Holy Ghost and with much assurance, its ministration is glorious, and brings honour to the truth which it declares. This divine Spirit will be the great preacher of Christ crucified unto the end of the gospel dispensation. His power is unceasingly displayed in the. instant conversion of the man who came under the word, cold and ignorant and careless ; in the extensive revival of the power of godliness, in the community which has settled down into a dark and lifeless state ; in the spreading before an individual sinner the startling view of his own iniquities, and in causing great searchings of heart among those who bave held the truth in unrighteousness. And while the ministry of the gospel has such power, though the earthly minister be weak and igno rant, the gospel is glorified in the character of its preachers. For nearly sixty centuries God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, have united to publish these glad tidings of peace, of good, and of salvation. In this divine ministry, great honour has been brought to the gospel dispen sation, and it has been made glorious in the method of its publication. II. The glory of the gospel in the method of its publica tion is exhibited in the Providence which has always at tended it. It is perfectly evident from scripture, that the existence of the human race, after their apostacy from God, was permitted only as a display of God's grace in their redemption ; and the whole divine government of man has been a comment upon that promise, which was given to Adam, of a coming Sa viour. Four thousand years were employed in preparing for this manifestation of God in the flesh. During this period the Divine Providence was unceasingly displayed in watch ing over the great purpose of redemption, and making provi sion for the fulness of time. The division of nations in preparation for the final triumph of truth and grace; the call of Abraham to be the father and spiritual representative of all believers, the depositary of that everlasting covenant, which was in all things well or dered and sure, and the head of the earthly line from which the desire of all nations should be born ; the separation of the Israelites, to keep those precious truths and promises, which constituted so much the treasure of the world ; the various dispensations and revelations which were made to therh, all pointing to more excellent things to come; the di versified events of their history and their relations to other nations of the earth ; all these were arrangements of Divine Providence to prepare the way of the Lord and a highway for our God. When the fulness of the appointed time was come, the same Providence was displayed in the subjugation of the tempo ral power of the Jews, that there might be no rival to that kingdom not of this world, which the Lord God designed to set up among them ; in the universal empire which Rome had been permitted to establish through the known" world, giving such free course to the divine word, and such opportu nities and protection to the preachers of the gospel, as no age before or after could have afforded ; in the establishment of a general language through all civilized nations, and that the language in which the New Testament was written; in the great literary cultivation and wisdom of that period, affording the most certain and scrutinizing examination of the claims of the new religion, which made such large demands upon men ; all these are remarkable arrangements of that Provi dence which was ordering events to co-operate for the estab lishment of the kingdom of Christ among men. In the whole period of time which has since elapsed, all human changes have been made to work together to promote the same intended results. The gospel of Jesus, its pro gress, its establishment, its triumph in the world, have formed the all-sufficient reason for the most wonderful alter nations among the children of men. In the embracing and cultivation of this gospel, savage nations have been raised'to civilization, prosperity, and temporal happiness and power. In the neglect and contempt of it, civilized nations have been reduced to degradation, barbarism, and ignorance. All desi rable earthly blessings have been made to follow in the train of the Redeemer's gospel ; and while no nation has been ex alted .without it, the sin of its rejection has been a permanent reproach to every people who have been guilty of it. The great commotions of the world, the wars. and tumults which have agitated the sons of men, have all been made to prepare the way for Jesus, as the fire, and the wind, and the earthquake in Horeb, introduced to Elijah the still, small voice of divine commands. The present overturning of the nations of the earth, though feeding the plant of liberty and virtue with human Mood, are" overruled to establish, the more widely the kingdom of the Saviour. Men fill the atmosphere with noise and confusion to gratify their own ambition. God rides upon the storm, and makes the clouds the dust of his feet, to bring to pass his great designs. They think to destroy nations not a few ; he purposes to establish a dominion under another King, one Jesus, from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth. This same Providence is to carry on the gospel to a final triumph. The north and the south are to give up the victims of ignorance and idolatry, that they may be made the children of God ; and even now commerce has for this purpose hrought together the ends of the earth, and the peaceful galley ofthe merchant has carried the ministers and the books of truth to most of the remotest nations of men. This continued providence of God, watching over the gos*" pel, preparing the way for its propagation, establishing it upon the ruins of human ignorance and vice, has thrown un ceasing honour upon it as a dispensation from God to man. That God, by whom and for whom all things.were made, is for this reason a glorious God, and that gospel for which the earth has been preserved and governed, and the promotion of which among men has been the object of a sleepless Provi dence, is for this reason a glorious gospel, and is honoured and made beautiful in the method of its publication. III. The glory*of the gospel, in the method of its publica tion, has been displayed in its constant triumph over every spe cies of opposition. In every age Satan has sought to destroy it among men, and to defeat the divine purpose to redeem and to bless them. His triumph over our first parents led to the promulgation of this glorious scheme of grace ; and from that period his pur pose has been to pervert its operation, and to destroy its saving efficacy. He buried the nations in ignorance and vice in the antedilu vian world, until the Creator was provoked to cleanse it with an universal deluge. He involved the Israelites in the deepest and most de grading idolatry, until sometimes, as in the reign of Josiah, the divine law had become quite forgotten. He led them to a repeated forsaking of God, and despising of his ordinances, that he might annihilate the truth which had been entrusted to their keeping. But notwithstanding all his power, the purpose of God to accomplish man's redemption kept on a steady and undevia ting course ; all things were made ready for its development in the appointed time ; and though the heathen raged, and the people imagined a vain thing, God did set his King upon his holy hill of Zion. When the Saviour was manifest in the flesh, he attempted 44 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. to destroy him. He excited the jealousy of Herod to cut him off in his infancy. He attempted to persuade him to his own destruction. He arrayed against him the whole power of Jewish and Roman governors, so that in the ex pression of the apostles, " against the holy child Jesus, both Herod and Pontius Pilate and the rulers of Israel were gathered together." He finally succeeded, as he supposed, in his destruction, by nailing him to the cross. But still the gospel triumpbed ; and the very death which was to show the weakness and falsehood of the professed Messiah, was his full and perfect triumph over the gates of hell, and his open spoiling of the principalities and powers of darkness. Foiled and defisated in this attempt, the enemy has pur sued the gospel in every succeeding age like a flood. He raised the arm of temporal power and wealth, so that the most dreadful and bitter wasting of human lives was exhibited in the persecution of the apostles and all successive preachers. But the gospel triumphed over power, and in the reign of Constantine seated itself upon the very throne, of the perse cuting empire. Millions of lives have been sacrificed by the enmity of Satan because they were Christians, and yet increasing millions have risen up to supply their place. He has inspired the wisdom and genius of man to write down the religion of Jesus in the books of infidelity, so that some of the mightiest effoTts of the human mind which the world has ever seen have been displayed in hostility to the gospel. Age after age has furnished the same display ; and yet this despised gospel has triumphed over fhe arguments and writings of infidelity, and still stands the monument of God's Almighty power, while the names and the former ex istence of many of these opposers, are known only by the answers which Christian writers have made to them. He has in different ages thrown corruptions and heresies in practice and.doctrine into the body of the church; has raised up secret enemies in the very camp, until the word of God appeared almost buried under the wickedness of men. But the gospel has thrown off successively corruptions and here sies, and still stands, after all these attempts, precisely the same living and life-giving truth, as when it was first re vealed. He has sent his agents and ministers to assume the Chris tian garb ; to array themselves among the followers of Jesus, and thus to betray the cause which they professed to espouse. But though the tares have grown together with the wheat, there have been continually succeeding harvests in which they have been separated, and the gospel is still offered in its simplicity and purity to man, and embraced in its true charac ter by thousands, while these false pretenders and preachers have gone to their own place. -<¦ No species of opposition which could have been aroused has been omitted. Every possible instrument has been called in requisition, and every instrument in its highest pos sible power; and yet over all, truth has prevailed. The gospel has set its foot upon the necks of its enemies ; and still triumphs, and still will triumph, until its full dominion has been attained. Opposition probably was never stronger or more serious than in the present day. The truth is every where spoken against. The doctrines and ordinances of the gospel are re viled by thousands. Bitter terms of reproach are appended to the names of those who maintain its truth, and the most unfounded calumnies are circulated in reference to their character and conduct ; and yet the gospel establishes its throne in the very midst of those who hate it, and converts its enemies into friends. Such triumphs reflect high honour upon the gospel of Jesus, and show its glory in the method of its publica tion. Men may raise insuperable difficulties, as they sup- p5se ; but beautiful in their triumphant march over all these mountains, are still the feet of those who publish the gospel of peace and preach glad tidings-of good things. From this view of the glory of the gospel, we may learn, 1. That whatever men may think of the dispensation of the word, the rejection of the gospel is really a rejection of God himself. Whoever may proclaim to you this message of grace, and however weakly and infirmly he may pro- 'claim it, provided he be faithful, speaks the word of the Lord; and he that despiseth, despiseth not man but God. From God himself to you is the word of this salvation sent ; and let all take heed that they receive not the grace of God in vain.,. In his name we demand the submission of your hearts to him. We offer you the fulness of mercy for per ishing sinners, which is laid up in the Lord Jesus Christ; and by his authority require you to repent and believe the gospel. We leave it not to your choice whether you will accept the provisions of divine mercy or not. You may re ject them indeed, but you will reject them to your eternal ruin. Brethren, Almighty God demands his own. He made you not to be destroyed ; he has bought you with an inesti mable price ; he commands you to return to him and live ; and you will answer it before him in a solemn final judg ment, how you have received and improved the precious opportunity of salvation which he has so long allowed you.' 2. The way in which you should receive it, not as the word of man, but as it is in truth, the word of the Lord, which worketh effectually in you that believe. The word of God profits you not if it be not mixed with faith in them that hear it. Listen to the gospel as a personal message to your selves; hear it describe your necessities, and. offer you a full and perfect remedy, with the humble acknowledgment of your want, and a cordial embracing of the mercy proposed ; appropriate with thankfulness the privileges which God of fers here to sinners, and learn to come with your whole heart to the fountain of blessedness and mercy which he has laid open. The Lord Jesus invites you in great kindness to re ceive his love. By his ministers he calls you, and by his spirit he strives with you, that you may not be permitted to destroy yourselves. Believe in him with your hearts, and it shall be well with you; he will pardon your unrighteousness, and your iniquities will he remember no more. He brings you this day good tidings ; he publishes to you peace and salvation. 0 let your thankful hearts rejoice that there is a Saviour so worthy to be received, admired and loved, pre sented to your embrace; and come urito him and he shall give you rest. LECTURE XVIII. THE GLORY OF THE GOSPEL FROM THE SUBJECTS WHICH IT PROCLAIMS. How beautiful upon the mountains ate the feet of him that bring eth good tidings, that publisheth peace, that bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation, tliat saith unto Zion, thy God reigneth. — Isaiah ii. 7. Such we have seen is the divine description of the minis ters ofthe gospel of Christ. Whether men justly appreciate their office or not, they are sent as messengers of God^s-chief blessing to a fallen world. Coming with intelligence of par don from on high, to the penitent and contrite their, approach is welcomed, their feet are beautiful. God is pleased to put high honour upon their office, and to show himself personally interested in the acceptance and respect which they receive. But why are they thus styled beautiful? Not for any personal merit or worth in themselves. They are infirm and imperfect. Not for any dignity or power which they pos sess or which they can exercise. They are like other men, altogether weak, sinful and unprofitable. God honours them, and they are welcomed by man, altogether on account of "the message which they are commissioned to proclaim. This message contains the highest possible benefit to man, and reflects unceasing glory upon God. The text exhibits this message at large, and introduces to your notice the subject of the present discourse. The glory of the gospel, arising from the intelligence which it communicates to man. 1. It brings " good tidings." This expression is a gene ral designation of the revelation made by Jesus Christ. It is the title by which we know this glorious system, and which is thus called the gospel, because it is altogether a communication of good tidings to man. The good tidings of the Christian system of tmth involve many particulars, adapted to all human circumstances and conditions. It appoints every where to them that mourn, to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. It speaks in language of consolation to all who suffer, of security to all who are in doubt, of encouragement to all who fear, of promise to all who seek for mercy. There is no condi tion of man under the Providence of the God of Truth for which the gospel of Christ will not bring relief and comfort. He cannot be placed under such circumstances as shall shut him out from security and hope, if he be willing to PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL, 45 accept the offers which are here made. Whenever the sin ner is destroyed, he has destroyed himself, though God has offered him abundant help. But the good tidings of the gospelmay all be comprized in its one offer to man of universal pardon for sin. It exhib its a Saviour, who has accomplished in* his own person a full saljva-^ori for the sinful posterity of Adam, and the riches of whose grace are truly unsearchable ; and it offers simply through him, and in the acceptance of him, universal for giveness to those for whom he died. I say universal for giveness, for not a single sinner is personally excepted from the offer which it makes. Whosoever will, may come and drink freely of the water of life : Jesus has offered himself once for all. And there is not a man living who can say with truth, " for me there is no redemption, God has shut me out of life." No, brethren, we do injustice, great injus tice, to the free and unbounded grace of God, if we suppose that it is not honestly proposed to all, and proposed with a sin cere desire on the part of its great author that all should partake of it and live. Whatever theoretical difficulties may be imagined in reconciling God's purposes of love defeated, with his unlimited and resistless power to do his will, we cannot lay the blame of man's destruction upon him. Nor in searching through the whole catalogue of offenders against him, can we find one to whom we are authorized to say, that no atonement has been rriade for him, and no pardon is offered upon-his return to God. This offer of forgiveness is universal in regard to the trans gressions of each individual. No sinner can be too guilty to be pardoned. No man can have fallen to a depth which is beyond the reach of Almighty grace. Is he the chief of sinners ? Has no one ever passed beyond the limits of his transgression? Then is the faithful saying true for him, that Christ Jesus came into the world for his salvation, and is able to set him forth as a pattern of divine long suffering. All the offences of previous life are pardoned, when a sinner embraces the provisions of grace in Christ Jesus ; one act of divine mercy restores him to the favour of his God, and removes forever all charge of guilt against his soul. It is true that the sinner's forgiveness is dependant upon his return to God. If he continue in a persevering rejection of the Holy Spirit, and determine to sin because grace abounds, he commits indeed a^in for which there is no forgiveness, either in this world, or in the world to come. None in this world, because he thus casts finally away the only possible means of pardon. None in the world to come, because all exercise of pardon is confined to the present life. This sin against the Holy Ghost cannot be forgiven, not because its guilt is too great, but because it is final impenitence ; and no Unpenitent sinner can be pardoned. But for all classes and degrees of guilt, if the sinner truly repent and submit himself to God, there is forgiveness offered in the gospel. And thus the gospel is a message of good tidings to man, bringing him back to God and restoring him again to the divine favour and love. 2. It "publisheth peace." The transgressions of men have excited the just anger of God against them, have ex posed them to necessary punishment, and made it the in flexible rule of his government, that there should be no peace to the wicked. This is the relation in which by nature you stand to God ; your souls are forfeited to his divine justice. Should he carryforward his- anger against sin to final execution, and cast you all into everlasting ruin, no one of you could have the right to complain. Your own consciences would unite with his holy determinations, and proclaim that God was just though he thus took vengeance. You could make no offering to him which should purchase peace, or deserve the remission ofthe punishment denounced against sin. Under such circumstances the worth and glory of the gospel are displayed. God has accomplished and proposes reconciliation, and his gospel declares it to you in his name. It is an offer of peace altogether worthy of God ; it compromises not the justice or integrity of his character, but confirms and glorifies his whole government of man. Peace between yourselves and your Creator is thus proclaimed.- You are allowed to come before him with your prayers and offerings without fear. He looks upon- you in the righteousness of his Son with acceptance and favour. He invites you to become united to him in the spirit of new and holy obedience, and to forget that there has been any separation between you in your experience of the future manifestations of his love. The gospel exhibits the cha racter of God to you under the most attractive aspect. It shows you that he is desirous to pardon and save you ; and invites you to commit all your cares and ways to him in the assurance that he will be a friend and beloved to you forever. Beside this relative peace between your souls and God, the gospel -publishes peace in the experience of your own hearts. When you receive by faith the Saviour whom it offers, and he is allowed to dwell in your hearts as your hope of glory, there is then bestowed upon you the peace which passes understanding. Your troubled and anxious minds have rest. Tranquillity and assurance forever establish their dominion in your, souls. The accusations of guilt are hushed by divine testimoriies of pardoning love. - Your hope is fixed calmly and surely upon, the promises of God ; and resting thus in love for him, and in his love for you, you are filled with peace in believing through the power of his spirit. Peace is thus thrown over all the changes and prospects of mortal life. All things work together for good to those who love God ; and he keeps them in perfect peace whose mind is stayed^on him. There is real worth, beloved brethren, in this gospel offer of peace to the sinner's soul, and you will exhibit" true wisdom in embracing it for your own com fort in the present world, and your eternal joy in a world to come. God makes it his glory to pass by transgressions, and gives glory to his gospel in constituting that the instru ment of proclaiming his riches of love to every sinner truly repenting and believing in his Son. 3. The gospel brings " good tidings of good." It not only restores the sinner by the offer of free forgiveness to the condition of an innocent man, removing all penalty, and rescuing him from condemnation, but it adds also positive and infinitely valuable benefits. It offers him in the right eousness of God his Saviour everlasting life and glory. It bids him lift up his eyes and his hopes, for God hath pro vided for him such good things as pass man's understanding. The present good which results from a cordial acceptance of the gospel is important, but it is partial. The following of Christ may involve, with all the peace] and comfort which it promises, the endurance of much suffering and trial. The Christian may pass through many and great tribulations in entering into the kingdom of God. But the future good which is set before him is all-sufficient, and the final result of his obedience will make abundant reparation for any con flicts by which he must be tried. But what.is this future good ? What offers are made to be fulfilled in a world to come? Continuing life to beings who deserve to die. Un ceasing enjoyment for those who merit' only sufferings and woes. Perfect acceptance with God, for rebels against him, with whom he was justly angry every day. Everlasting honour and glory for those who have been degraded and destroyed by sin. The fellowship of Jesus and his saints, the society of all who are holy and perfect, the approbation of the Ruler and Judge of all, for beings who were cast out in their sins ready to perish. Such is the good which the gospel offers. It is a spiritual and permanent good, which, like its author, has no variableness nor shadow of changing. Such honour, such recompense have all his saints. This everlasting provision of good answers all the re proaches of the world, while it shows that the Christian, in counting all things as loss for Christ, acts with wisdom and prudence, and that he lays up his treasure securely where moth and rust do not corrupt, nor thieves break through to steal, and builds his house upon a rock which shall stand the assault of every tempest and abide firm forevermore. It answers all the temptations of the world, while it pre sents more than a counterbalance for every sinful joy, and excites a faith and hope which shall overcome every allure ment to transgression. It applies itself to all the changing circumstances of life, bringing encouragement and treasure from God, wherever its possessor may be placed. It is so satisfying, that its messenger is always welcome to those who understand its worth.- To the poor, the afflicted, the sick, the dying, the glorious gospel .brings good tidings of good. It takes man by the hand when all others forsake him. It can speak with power when all others are silent. And shows itself thus useful and desirable, however low and desperate may be the condition of the individual to whom its gracious offers come. 4. The gospel "publishes salvation." It proclaims to every believer final security from the punishment of sin, and from the power of Satan. It encourages him with the assur ance of victory, even while he is in the midst of his warfare. It bids him remember the Almighty power which is^engaged upon his side, and under whatever circumstances of danger, ipon to be not faithless but believing. The salvation which the gospel offers is a salvation al- 46 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. ready finished and completed. Man is invited to partake of that which God has freely provided for him; and the great office of the gospel is to publish to man this glorious salva tion, and to invite him to an enjoyment of the bounties which have been thus prepared.. This salvation it proclaims in ex hibiting an all-sufficient sacrifice for sin offered by God's dear Son. It shows that the burden of human guilt was ac tually laid upon him, and that his death upon the cross was borne as a required punishment in the sinner's stead. In such an exhibition of the death of Christ, it displays a full and final atonement made to God for human transgress ions, and publishes salvation in the assurance that every barrier which unexpiated guilt interposed to the acceptance of man has been thus removed. It proclaims this salvation in displaying the resurrection from the dead, and the subse quent exaltation of the glorious Redeemer who had humbled himself even to this death upon the cross for man, and thus shows that Almighty power is enlisted in behalf of all who come to him, and that he is able to save them unto the utter most, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them, While the gospel proclaims the united exercise of the power of God and the sufferings of man, in the person of Jesus Christ the Lord our righteousness, it publishes salvation in a method which removes every difficulty and commends itself to the enlightened judgment of man as perfectly adequate to his wants, and precisely suited to his condition as a guilty and helpless being. But though it thus publishes to man a complete salvation, it does not leave him to obtain for himself, and by his own power, a personal interest in this salvation. It comes to him attended by the same Spirit who has proclaimed its intelligence to the world, as a personal gift to his soul, to enable him to see his dangers, and to take advantage of the mercies which are of fered to his acceptance. It brings this Holy Spirit to dwell within his heart as a comforter and guide, to encourage and to lead him in the path to life eternal. By the ministration of the Spirit, it applies to him the salvation which it pub lishes abroad, and thus completes the gracious design of God of bringing the sinner from the power of Satan to himself and glory everlasting. It displays the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost united in the work of man's redemption; shows the office which each person of the Deity exercises to attain this end ; and having proclaimed the whole scheme of grace, it publishes as the result a full and eternal salvation to all who believe the intelligence which it communicates. 5. The gospel "saith unto Zion," to the people of God " thy God reigneth." This personal designation of God as connected with his people, shows us that Emanuel, God manifest in the flesh, is especially referred to. Of him, the righteous are by the same prophet represented as saying, " Lo, this is our God, we have waited for him, and he will save us." The God of Zion is an incarnate God, our " great God and Saviour Jesus Christ." The gospel declares his reign, his everlasting dominion as God over all, blessed for ever. It proclaims his exaltation as head over all things for the church, as Lord of lords and King of kings, making his enemies his footstool. It declares this reign of Christ as joyful intelligence to his people, as suring them that their cause is safe under his extensive and resistless dominion. He reigns in the government of the present world, ordering all things according to the counsels of his own will, and con straining all beings and all events, to promote his glory and the good of his people. In this assurance Zion rejoices in the prospect of a final victory for his truth, and fears not that his cause is safe, whatever may be the assaults of the ungodly. However men may fill the earth with confusion and sin, he rides upon the whiriwind-and the storm, and makes the clouds the dust of his feet. He brings light out of darkness, and makes crooked things straight. And he will accomplish his purpose of the universal dominion of righteousness and peace among men, through whatever opposition and conflict he must pass to gain the end. - He reigns in the heart of every redeemed sinner, and will keep each one, therefore, to the enjoyment of his eternal glory. In this intelligence, too, his people rejoice; they have put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and they stand complete in him. Whatever may be the temptations of sin, and the difficulties of obedience while he reigns in their hearts, they shall be made more than conquerors through his divine power. The world shall be overcome, Satan shall be bruised under their feet, self shall be prucified and destroyed, and grace shall triumph finally and eternally, because Christ rules in those whom he has redeemed. He reigns amidst the hosts of heaven, and Zion rejoices in the prospect of reward which his dominion there ensures. His presence constitutes the happiness and glory of his peo ple. They look forward with delight to another world as an everlasting home, because he is there. The single .jiromise of recompense which the gospel makes is an enjoyment of his favour and a dwelling together with him. In the hope of this the believer's heart rejoices with joy unspeakable and full of glory ; and having counted all things as loss for Christ's sake, he looks forward with triumph to the day when he shall be like him and see him as he is. Jesus reigns in heaven, and, therefore, for those who love him, heaven must contain a desirable and ample reward. Such is the glorious intelligence which the gospel brings. you ; such are the communications which it makes to a world of sinners. It brings good tidings, it publishes peace, it brings good tidings of good, it publishes salvation, it de clares to Zion, thy God reigneth. These gracious communi cations throw a glorious light over the whole message, and constitute it, by their excellency, the glorious gospel of the blessed God. How important is the obligation which arises from such intelligence to constrain sinful men to accept with thankful ness these heavenly offers ! The immediate duty required of you .all is the reconciliation to God which the gospel pro poses, and for which it has made provision. All things are ready for the return of sinners unto Christ, and I would be seech you, brethren, to welcome the ministers of reconcilia tion, to receive the pardon which is offered, and to place yourselves under the dominion of this glorious and merciful King. Kiss the Son in token of your cheerful subrnission to him, and let not his wrath be kindled against you, even but a little, lest you perish from the right way, and lose for ever the hopes which are offered you through his grace. How important also is the obligation upon Christians to. press upon all others the acceptance of these messages of di vine love ! To you who have believed, the Lord has committed the treasure of his grace, that you may offer it to others. In your conversation and your conduct, and in direct efforts to lead sinners unto Christ, much influence is to be exerted to pub lish this salvation, and to spread abroad the knowledge of the truth. The worth of this glorious intelligence marks the amount of your responsibility ; and while it teaches you what, Christ has done and suffered to open the way of salvation, it impresses upon you how much you should be willing to do and to suffer to make this way plain and profitable to others. Let no effort be spared which can be made effectual to bring men from the darkness of their sins, to the light of the glory of God which is seen in Jesus Christ. LECTURE XIX. The gospel magnifying the law. The Lord is well pleased for his righteousness sake, he will mag nify the law and make it honourable. — Isaiah xlii. 21. The connexion of the different divine revelations with each other, forms an important subject for our consideration in closing this series of lectures. Faithfulness and immutability are attributes inseparable' from the divine character. With God, there is no variable ness, nor shadow of turning. He illustrates the unchange- ableness of his own nature by contrasting with it the transi tory existence of the most splendid of all his works. Like a vesture and a garment, they are to change, and to be folded up, but he is the same for ever, his years have no end. This immutability of his character and purposes he adduces as the reason of all his forbearance towards those who have disobeyed his commands. " I am Jehovah, I change not, therefore ye sons of Jacob are not consumed," and again " I will not execute the fierceness of mine angsr, I will not re turn to destroy Ephraim, for I am God, and not man." The same unchangeable character, is asserted in the New Testament to be the attribute of God manifest in the flesh. "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day and forever." And Jesus says of his own revelation, " heaven and earth shall pass away ; but my word shall not pass away." PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 47 This immutability appertains to all the divine purposes and plans. He is from everlasting to everlasting, One God. He does not change the purposes which he forms ; nor is he frustrated in the accomplishment of his own designs. The connexion of this attribute with our text, will become immediacy apparent. God hf£ made successive revelations to men, and has placed them by these revelations under distinct dispensations of go vernment. Now are not these dispensations contrary the one to the other ? and is not the divine immutability compromised and destroyed in the various declarations which he has thus successively made ? This is the important subject or thought which 1 would present before you at this. time. Is the law against the promises of God ? or do we make void the law, through faith ? To each of these demands the apostle returns the same answer, " God forbid," and asserts the same fact, that the law and the gospel are designed not to destroy, but to confirm and establish each other. Our text declares, that God was perfectly satisfied with that everlasting righteousness which the Messiah has brought in, under the gospel ; and that in the acceptance of this right eousness for man, he would magnify the law, and make it honourable. The honour which the grace of the gospel reflects upon the di vine law is the subject here presented to you. In remarking upon this subject : I. Our first object must be to recall the distinct and clear views which we have' already taken of the law and the gos pel. And then, II. To consider the assertion of the text, that the righteous ness of the gospel magnifies and makes honourable the law. I. We must first recall the clear views which we have taken'of what the law and gospel are. 1. The law of God, is simply the revealed will of the Creator. - It was first made known, when the first creature was formed. It required in every creature unqualified sub mission to the Creator's will, whenever and however that will should be proclaimed. By all the angels in heaven who delight to do their, maker's will, it is fully obeyed. It was communicated to man at his creation, requiring from him simply this entire submission to God, and fixing the trial of his obedience upon a single and comparatively unimportant precept. It was revealed anew to the Israelites upon Mount Sinai, with many additional particulars, some of which were entirely national and local. It is as much binding upon every soul, under the gospel, as it was before Jesus ap peared as the Saviour of men. This law governs throughout the universe. It will govern forever. There can be no creature exempted from obedience to it; nor can its authority ever be annulled. While the Creator reigns, every created being will be bound to submit unconditionally to his will, which is his law, however and whenever that will shall be published. So soon as any being disobeys this law, he comes imme diately under condemnation, and is at once a lost and ruined being. He is without protection and without hope. God is turned against him, and none can be on his side. Thus it was with the angels that sinned. Thus it was with -Adam, and thus it is with every man born into the world. None of us are keepers of the law. And therefore the whole family of man have come under the curse, and every man living is condemned by the divine law, as a trans gressor against God. Let it be further remembered that this law cannot be set aside or annulled. ' It demands an obedience and satisfaction adeqnate to its own character, and it will not release from condemnation any transgressor who" does not produce them. If no such obedience and satisfaction can be obtained by sin ners, whether men or angels, no fallen being can be restored or saved. This is the view which we have taken of the divine law. It is not the Jewish law, nor the command given to Adam particularly. It is the original, divine will of God, requiring simply unqualified submission in his creatures under all the circumstances which he shall see fit to place them. It was made known in some precepts to Adam, and in others to the Israelites, and in others still by the Lord Jesus. So far as now revealed, it is contained in the Scriptures, which are given by inspiration of God. It may be made known in new precepts, to the creatures of God, throughout eternity : and to whatever labour or duty God shall ever direct, — this universal law will require unconditional obedience. Neither the gospel then, nor any other dispensation from God, can make void or annul this law, — because whatever is revealed or commanded by him, becomes from that moment a part of his law ; and comes to man with the same authority which has attended all grevious revelations. They cannot be inconsistent with the law, because God can not deny himself; he is always the same, and changes not, nor can his purposes contradict each other. 2. The gospel is a free offer of salvation to man under the condemnation of the law, it was designed as a remedy for ex- istihg evil, and was intended to restore the transgressor of the law to his former situation of security and peace. It makes its gracious proposal of salvation, through the suffer ings of a divine substitute; it is the annunciation of a Saviour, who has assumed the sinner's place, and rendered for him the obedience and satisfaction which the divine law required. It is not, then, a system which has originated from another being than the one who gave man his law, and which was intended in its operation to set aside that law : but one which has flowed from the divine lawgiver himself, to restore the violated majesty of his own government, and to provide for man that satisfaction to the law, without which he could never have been saved. The intelligence of the gospel was first revealed to man after his transgression, as his all-sufficient remedy. It provi ded salvation for him, and offers it to him freely as a lost creature. But it does not and cannot give him salvation, in opposition to the demands of the law; it first satisfies the law, and makes it perfectly whole, and then freely and fully justi fies and saves the sinner whom it had condemned. Here then is no opposition, but a perfect unity of action, and mutual agreement : As if a creditor should imprison his debtor for default in payment, and another individual should come forward voluntarily to discharge the claim and set the prisoner at liberty, the latter could not be said to be opposed on this ground to the former, or in any way to deny or de stroy the legal justice of the claim which he thus dischar ged, but both would unite in releasing the man whose debt had thus been paid; so while the law of God held man in bondage, as a transgressor of its precepts, and the gospel provides a full discharge of the penalty, and bids the. ran somed soul go and sin no more, it does not on this account show itself opposed to the law's demands. It honours the justice of the law by satisfying it fully, and in no degree annuls it. The same divine being has given the law as the rule for all his creatures, and the gospel as the hope for fallen man. In both these dispensations he is the same, and there is in him no shadow of turning. When he first created man, he placed him under his law, as he had done all other beings, and when man transgressed the law and sinned against him, and of necessity was con demned by the law, then he revealed his gracious purpose to save him in perfect consistence with the majesty of his own law, and provided and offered a righteousness in the Lord Je sus, with which he was well pleased, and which would mag nify the law, andjnake it honourable. II. We now proceed fo consider the assertion of the text.: That the righteousness of the gospel does magnify the law, and make it honourable. This part of our subject deserves peculiar consideration. In preaching the gospel ofthe Lord Jesus, we offer a free and full salvation to those whom the law condemns, and that to be obtained simply by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. In such a system we appear to many to set aside the claims of the law, and still more so, when we further state that the law cannot justify any man; that it is not to be observed with any view to obtaining justification by it; that we must not so much as lean upon it in the slighest degree, and that our placing , the smallest dependence upon it will invalidate our whole interest in the system of the gospel, fn these assertions, we are supposed to be Antinomians in our principles, and our doctrines are thought to be subversive of moral obligations. It will be remembered that the apostle Paul was obliged to contend with the very same difficulties, and that his doc trines were obnoxious to the very same reproach, and against this reproach he was compelled to vindicate himself in re peated instances. But what is the real ground which we occupy in this mat ter ! The law you will remember requires perfect obedience to all its commandments. It denounces a curse against every one who shall violate them in the smallest .degree. Now it is manifest, that every man living has violated them in ten thousand instances, and is consequently obnoxious to the 48 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. heaviest judgments. And yet, in preaching the glad tidings of the gospel, we say to those who believe in Jesus Christ, that they have nothing to fear, for there is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus. Do we in this system of preaching set aside the law, or act in contrariety to its estab lished principles ? This is the point before us. In reply, we say, by no means ; we establish, and confirm, and honour the law, to the utmost possible extent. We announce a salvation which God has provided, and in which he is well pleased ; which satisfies every legal demand, makes the sinner perfectly secure, and, at the same- time, infinitely glorifies the majesty and charac ter of God. 1. The gospel honours and magnifies the law in the volun tary obedience of the Lord Jesus Christ. It would have been honoured by the personal obedience of man, had he continued upright, as it is by the obedience of the.pure spirits of heaven. In the universal submission to God, which is there displayed, the cheerfulness with which all unite to glorify the divine Creator, and the love and com munion which is maintained among themselves, the purity and glory of the divine law, are unceasingly beheld. Had man remained in his first estate, such would have been the character of earth ; and here, in all the intercourse of men with each other, ihe perfect law of God would have been the controlling principle. This obedience would have magnified the law, and displayed its wrath. But the voluntary sub mission of God the Son to its commands, has magnified it far more highly. He over whom it had no control, and whose will constituted the law itself, yielded himself to be command ed by the law, for those who were under its condemnation. His perfect obedience to every precept, is the righteousness with which God declares himself well pleased. As man, ho fulfilled every command; from childhood to death he was constituted under the law : he thus wrought out a spotless righteousness, by which the majesty of the law is perfectly sustained, while the subjects of its condemnation are released and set at liberty. Now, how can the law be more glorified, or set upon higher ground, in the view of the intelligent universe, than by this voluntary humiliation of God himself? With what authority and sanction must it have pressed itself home, upon the thrones, and dominions, and principalities, and powers, in heavenly places, when they beheld such regard paid to it by the Creator himself! The personal obedience of Jesus hon ours the purity and holiness of the law from its undefiled and spotless character, showing how holy must be that law which was made the rule of such perfection in one who was govern ed by it; The same obedience also honoured the majesty and authority of the law, because it was the voluntary submission of a being so elevated and glorious, over whom it could have had no necessary control. 2. The gospel honours the law, in the voluntary sufferings of the Lord Jesus Christ. The righteousness which the law required was not only a righteousness of obedience to its precepts, but of satisfaction also for past transgressions. Had the law been violated, and the transgression remained unpunished, its authority would Have been utterly overthrown; instead of being magnified and made honourable, it would have been dishonoured and des pised. Had the transgressors of the law all been punished, it would have been honoured, and the Creator would have been seen to be a being glorious in holiness and justice. But it is far more highly magnified, when the mighty God himself consents to bear its penalties, rather than it should be despised. The sufferings which he sustained were a satis faction to the violated law. They were the wrath of God against sin. How far they were the same which sinners un pardoned must sustain for themselves, and how far they were only a full equivalent for their sufferings, we cannot precisely determine. The bodily suffering, the darkness of mind, and the violent death which the Lord endured, were certainly parts of that express penalty which the law had denounced against trans- fression. While the hatred of God, and the unquenchable espair which are also parts of the sinner's own punishment, were not found in Christ. This question it is not necessary for us to decide. The infinite dignity, and the infinite capacity of the Saviour, affixed a worth and an extent to his sufferings, which made them an equivalent for man. They answered the demands of the law. They made it whole and honourable, and thus opened a way for the salvation of a single sinner, or for all sinners; as one or all should accept the offers of sal vation. Thus the Lord Jesus honoured the justice of the law, and its faithful character, in submitting both to obey and to suffer for man,.under its requisitions. 3. The gospel honours the law in the acknowledgment of guilt which it requires every sinner to make, on whom it be- . stows a pardon. The honour which Jesus gave it^ is but a part of that which it receives. The gospel offers mercy to man in a method which requires him to acknowledge the jus tice of his condemnation under the law, before he can receive it. Every one who asks for pardon, must confess himself a sinner ready to perish. He must not only declare in words, but feel it also deeply in his conscience, that he deserves to be cast into outer darkness, amidst weeping and gnashing of teeth, and if God should avow that he had no pleasure in him, and should refuse for ever to accept him, it would be just and right. He must go to Christ, as one who feels himself ex posed to imminent and awful danger, and cry to him for mer cy, as a cast-away sinking into destruction everlasting. Hei is to plead nothing for himself, but the full satisfaction which1 the obedience and sufferings of the Lord Jesus have made to the demands of the law, and must found his whole hope upon the perfectly sufficient and honourable offering which was thus made. He must not desire that the demands ofthe law should be lessened even for his salvation. But while he feels condemned, and acknowledges himself to be condemned, he must still proclaim that the commandment which destroys him is just and good. He must acknowledge, that without a righteousness which fully answers the demands of the law, he cannot be, and ought not to be, accepted before God. And while he laments his own inability ever to render this righte ousness, he must plead the merit of his incarnate God, as all his salvation and all his desire. Thus, in the very entrance on the way of salvation, the gospel provides for the honouring and magnifying of the law, in the acknowledgments which the sinner makes. It will save none who do not feel and will not confess this guilt and danger under a previous condemna tion. There must be a deep humiliation for sin, and convic tion of his lost estate in the sinner's mind, before he can ob tain pardon in Jesus, and receive the gracious blessings which the gospel offers. Where this state of mind is found, and the sinner comes to plead the obedience of his Saviour for him self, the Lord is well pleased for his righteousness sake, and the law is magnified and made honourable. No precept has been set aside, and no principle has been overturned. The sinner acknowledges the justice of God in his condemnation, while he sues for the exercise of mercy in his forgiveness. And God is consistent with himself, iu hearing and answer ing the penitent's supplication. 4. The gospel honours the law in the new obedience, through which it leads every one whom it has pardoned. It allows none to sin, because grace abounds ; but forgives all who seek for pardon, that, as the result of their forgiveness, they may serve God in newness of life, and walk according to his holy will. It is true, the man who has embraced its offers of pardon does not expect that he shall perfectly obey the commands of God ; still less does he expect by any such obedience to commend himself to the favour of God. But he has in his heart as a divine gift, the love of holiness, and the desire for holiness; he approves ofthe precepts ofthe law in- his inner man ; he has the law written upon his heart, arM the grace of God, which has brought him salvation, teaches him. to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world. His whole ef- . fort and object in regard to hirhself is, that he may perfect holiness in the fear of God, and walk in all the command ments and ordinances of the Lord blameless. Thus the law" is magnified and made honourable in his experience and in his character. He has been made free from guilt, that he may be a servant to holiness, and delivered by the gospel from the condemnation of the law, that he may obey and honour it in its precepts ; and while he is accepted solely for the righteous ness sake of God his Saviour, his whole life is an exertion to be holy as he is holy. _ Under these four aspects of tho work of the Saviour for the sinner, and of the Spirit in the sinner, we see how perfectly united are these two holy systems from God, and that the la ter one has established and honoured in a high degree, the one previously revealed. The views which I have given you of these dispensations in the discourses which have now been brought to a conclusion, and the outlines of which I have here recalled, have exhibited this perfect agreement between the divine revelations, as well as the everlasting benefit which arises from them for man, and the glory which they bring to God. PAROCHIAL LECTURES ON THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 49 The subjects which we have considered in these lectures, are such, that their importance cannot be overstated ; and the more you reflect upon the statethents regarding them whieh I have made, the more will you become convinced, I am sure, that these have been scriptural and just. I have desired to avoid all points of needless controversy arhong true believers in the gospel, while at the same time I have desired to state most clearly and decidedly what I believe to be the truth of God, however it may be' opposed by those who would set aside the spiritual, heart-changing character of the religion of Jesus. I pray you to compare the views which I have pre sented, to you, with the declarations of the divine word ; if they speak not according to its testimony, I shall allow there is no truth in them. But the more studiously you make this comparison, the more will you see the accordance of all you have heard with the Lord's sacred communications, and I trust, also, experience their convincing and renewing power in your own souls. These are the truths which the apostles preached in the demonstration of the Spirit, casting down all man's native pride and wisdom, and exalting the Lord alone, as his righte ousness and salvation. They are the truths for which the venerable reformers of the church sacrificed themselves under the hatred of antichristian bigotry. They were embodied by them in the formularies of the whole protestant church, as the doctrine of the oracles of God. In every land in which the power of the reformation was felt, the same systerii of doctrine was simultaneously drawn from the divine word, and that system is the one which I have attempted to display to you in these discourses. They are, further, the truths which, by all faithful teachers of the gospel of Christ, are proclaimed now in the various denominations of orthodox Christians ; the truths by which the doctrine of Christ is tri umphing among men, and under which alone the souls of sinners are or can be converted unto God. They are, finally, the truths which our church every where teaches, and by her fidelity in declaring which, she shows her worth to us, and the honour she gives to God. May they be the truths which in this house you shall always hear, as the wisdom of God, and the power of God unto salvation. Prize them as your treasure; cling to them as your hope; proclaim them as the blessed instrument of universal good, and may God cause them to bring forth in you the abundant and eternal fruits of holiness for his sake. And all the glory be to the blessed Trinity, the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen. Vol. II.— G A GENERAL VIEW THE GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE, THE UNERRING TRUTH OF THE INSPIRED NARRATIVE OF THE EARLY EVENTS IN THE WORLD IS EXHIBITED, AND DISTINCTLX PROVED, BY THE CORROBO RATIVE TESTIMONY OF PHYSICAL FACTS, ON EVERY PART OF THE EARTH'S SURFACE. BY GEORGE FAIRHOLME, Esq. PREFACE. In presenting the following pages to the judgment of the world, I have reason to fear, that the very title of the work will excite, in the minds of some, feelings by no means fa vourable to an unprejudiced perusal of it. I arn fully aware of the objections which have frequently been raised to the endeavours to connect physical facts with the details of scripture; and I am, also, aware ofthe mischief that has sometimes ensued to the cause of religion, from the imprudent or unskilful' defence made by those whose wishes and intentions were the most friendly to it. The course of every science must be progressive ; begin ning in faint attempts to dissipate the obscurity of ignorance, and gradually advancing towards the full light of truth. To this usual course, the science of geology cannot be considered as an exception, having already passed through some of its early stages, which were avowedly marked with obscurity and error. During these stages of geological ignorance, I am free to admit, that the attempt to connect the supposed dis coveries in the physical phenomena of the earth, with the truths announced to us in the sacred record, could not but tend to injure either the one cause or the other; because, it is impossible that any concord can exist between truth and error. In this case it unfortunately happened that the asser tions of philosophy were uttered with such boldness, and so supported by the deceptious evidence of physical facts, seen under a false light, that it was difficult for the supporters of revela- lation, ignorant, as they generally were, of the nature of these facts, to hold their ground with success, or not to weaken their own cause by an apparent failure in its support. The necessity which has, however, been acknowledged, of rejecting the geological theories of those days, opposed, as they were, to the Mosaical History, was, therefore, a fair source of hope and encouragement to such as advocated the unerring character of Inspired Scripture. It, at least, left that Mosaic Narrative uninjured by the assault; and encou raged a hope, that, as in all other cases, the truth would finally appear and prevail. It has been well remarked, by the able author of a work which has lately appeared, full of information, and written upon the soundest principles, — " It is now thirty-five years since my attention was first directed to these considerations. It was then the fashion for science, and for a large part ofthe educated and inquisitive world, to rush into a disbelief of all written Revelation ; and several geological speculations were directed against it. But I have lived to see the most hostile of these destroyed by their own as hostile successors ; and to observe, that nothing, which was of this character, however plausible at the moment of its appearance, has had any dura tion in human estimation, not even among the sceptical."* Ofiate years, accordingly, fact after fact has been gradually accumulating ; each tending to temper the wild character of an hypothetical philosophy; and every day produces some new evidence of the hasty and erroneous conclusions from physical facts, to which the friends of Revelation had found * it too often necessary to succumb. Each of these errors in philosophy has been a source of tri umph to the cause of truth ; and the time is gradually ap proaching, if it be not yet fully come, when the trial must be brought to a positive issue, and when those undeniable physi cal facts, seen in a new and more correct light, will lend then- aid to the support instead of to the destruction of our confidence in scripture ; and when the simplicity and consistency of the geology of Scripture, will make us regard with astonishment and contempt, schemes that could so long have exerted so powerful an influence over our reason and understanding. I am not vain enough to suppose that I am myself qualified to bring about so desirable an end : but, as it is the duty of every one to lend a hand to the demolition of error, and to the encouragement of truth, I propose, in the following pages, to endeavour, in as clear and concise a manner as the subject ' Saered History ofthe World, by Mr. Sharon Turner. GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 51 will admit of, to account for the geological structure of the upper surface of our earth ; taking the Mosaical History for my guiding staV, to be kept constantly in view throughout my course. A great part of my object will be attained, if I can succeed in bringing any one of those able minds, who are now so in fluential in the geological world, to view, in the same light as myself, the phenomena presented to our exainination on the earth. I am persuaded, that many of those individuals, so distinguished in science, are not so wedded to a party or theo fy, as not-to acknowledge and retract an error in judgment, if they are convinced of its existence. Amongst the many unquestionable physical facts, there fore, which I hope to be able to produce in the course of this treatise, supporting, in a remarkable manner, the Sacred His tory of the early events in the world, should any thing be found sufficiently strong, and sufficiently pointed, to shake the foundations of many of the present received opinions in geology, I hope that some one, or more, of those gifted indi viduals, may be found with sufficient candour to retrace his steps, and to lend the aid of a powerful and active mind to the cause of Revelation. It is, however, to-be feared, that there are many geologists, (if indeed they are deserving of the name,) whose great de light in this subject arises from the play tf fancy its consid eration, under a false view, gives rise to ; and who would; consequently, he unwilling to yield so pleasing a source of argument and hypothesis to the plain and simple course of events which the Mosaical History unfolds. Notwithstanding, however, the opposition I may meet with from such theorists, and in the absence of more able advocates for the support of this view of the subject, I propose to follow the course I have laid down ; and I feel perfectly confident, that any failure in the proposed plan will not arise from the defective nature of the plan itself, or from the materials within my reach for the completion of it ; but merely from the inabil ity of the builder, which defect may, at any time, be remedied, by the same materials being placed in the hands of a more able, though not more zealous advocate for fjie cause of truth. It must, however, be kept in view, that it is not the object of this treatise to enter minutely, or in detail, into the nature and history of each particular formation in the upper strata of the earth. We must first lay a solid foundation for our views, by an enlarged and general system ; and when this great and primary object has been perfectly attained, we may then, with safety, examine in detail "the many interesting objects present ed to our inspection, without, at any time, however, losing sight of the great first principles by which we had found it expedient to be guided in our course. We may thus hope to be led, by the full light of day, through those devious paths, over which so complete a twilight has hitherto been spread ; and we shall, undoubtedly, have the gratification of finding, that the same dignified simplicity and truth which have al ways been remarked as the characteristics of the other parts of Inspired Scripture, are not less remarkable, in the concise but emphatic details of the early events of the world. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. The very high interest and importance of the history of the globe which we inhabit, will be admitted by all whose minds are capable of entering beyond a mere superficial consideration of the objects around us ; and the principles ot curiosity, and the innate love of truth, so inherent in the hu man mind, lead us, step by step, from the consideration of objects themselves, to the Great First Cause from whence all things have originally sprung. I have always felt an aTdentdesire to study, and endeavour to follow up, the theories which, from time to time, have been formed by philosophy, respecting the original formation and subsequent changes of the globe which sustains us ; and for many years of my life I have regularly studied almost every thing that has been advanced on those important subjects. In the course of repeated travels over a great part of Europe, I have also had many opportunities of practically forming a judgment of the more visible and tangible evidences adduced in support of those theories. I have never felt, however, either on the subject of the primitive or secondary formations of geology, that firm conviction of the truth of the doctrines taught by the great leaders in science, which is the necessary consequence to be looked for in sound and truly logical rea soning. In the very opening of the subject, in treating of the mode of first formations, and in the numerous revolutions which are said subsequently to have left unquestionable tra ces upon the earth, I have never found any argument advan ced which did not leave the mind in a bewildered and uncer tain state; and in hut too many of the theories of philosophy on these subjects, we find opinions broached by the very ablest men, so extraordinary, and so repulsive to our reason and common sense, that we are compelled at once to reject them, and not without losing, at the same time, some portion of that high respect, with which a sound philosophy ought ' ways to inspire us. In the course of these studies, I have never been able to exclude from my mind those lights and beacons held out, as it were, for our guidance, in tracing the more obscure portions of the history of the earth, by the inspired writings, of the truth of which, on other subjects, the unprejudiced mind can entertain not a shadow of doubt, strengthened as they are by the great and wonderful events which have been foretold in prophecy, and, subsequently, literally fulfilled in history. "The great problem of creation has been said to be, 'Mat ter and 'Motion given, to form a world ;' and the presumption of man has often led him to attempt the solution of this ab surd problem. At first, philosophers contented themselves with reasoning on the traditional or historical accounts they had received ; but it is irksome to be shackled by authority, or for the learned to be content with the same degree of in formation on so important a subject as the most ignorant of the people. After having acquired, therefore, a smattering of knowledge, philosophy began to imagine that it could point out a much better way of forming the world, than that which had .been transmitted by the consenting voice of antiquity. — Epicurus was most distinguished among the.ancients in this work of reformation, and produced a theory on the principle of a fortuitous concourse of atoms, the extravagant absurdity of which has alone preserved it from oblivion. From his day to the present time, there has been a constant succession of systems and theories of the earth, which are now swallowed up by those of a chaotic geology, founded on chemistry ; the speculations of which have been attended with many useful results, in so far as they proceed on the principles of induc tion ; but when applied to solve the problem of creation, or the mode of first formations, will only serve, like the systems of their ¦'forerunners of antiquity, to demonstrate the igno rance and presumption of man."* Unfortunately for the cause of truth, and of sound philoso phy, the study of geology was begun, at no very distant pe riod, in a school where the only history which could be con sulted on such a subject was neglected and despised, on points incomparably more important than scientific inquiries. We cannot, therefore, feel surprise, that the philosophy _ of that period should have excluded from its view the concise but most important geological information given us in the first part of the Mosaical history. Misled by the theories" of the earth set forth by the conti nental philosophy and infidelity, theories so wild and absurd, that sober reason now looks upon them with contempt; many zealous and able men of our own country have been hurried away by the torrent, and have been induced to follow out their own researches, under the delusive and prejudiced impressions of their early studies. Even some of the most learned divines, without any knowledge of geology, have considered themselves bound, in translating and explaining the sacred record, to submit to the dictates of philosophy, and by taking liberties with the original text, which would not be tolerated in translating any classic author, have thus unintentionally aided the cause of scepticism and unbelief. They have admitted a doubt up on a great and fundamental point, in which the inspired his tory, fairly translated, directly opposes them ; viz. in con ceding to the theories of philosophy the duration of the six ' Edinburgh Encyclopedia. 53 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. days of the creation. As it was contrary to these theories to admit the perfect creation of all things, at the first, by an Almighty Power, it became necessary to search for such secondary causes, as would, by the mere laws of nature, as they are called, have produced the primitive rocks, as we now find them.* These supposed causes were discovered in chemistry ; and as it was found by chemists that various sub stances, under certain circumstances, formed themselves into crystals, and, by geologists, that granite, and other primitive rocks, had a crystalline appearance and formation, it was as sumed as a. fact, assisted by the heathen notion of a chaos, that all matter once existed in a confused and imperfect mass, from which, in the course of some indefinitely long period of time, our globe, in all its crystalline beauty, must have formed itself. We are no where informed by this chaotic philosophy whence the material atoms, of which this imperfect compound was formed, were produced; how the liquid mass was held togeth er before the laws of attraction and of gravity were ordained ; or by what power the laws of nature, by which crystallization takes place, were first instituted. By some philosophers of the French school, this theory of gradual perfection was extended even to animated beings, They considered that life, in its lowest shape, was first gene rated in this fermenting mass, and that the present variety and perfection, so remarkable in the animal world, gradually arose from those species of marine creatures called zoophytes, resembling, as their name denotes, the order of plants. It is not easy to determine the original ground-work for so extra ordinary and impious a theory ; but it probably arose, in some degree, from the erroneous conclusions from fossil remains, which have been the fertile cause of so much misconception during the last century. It has been remarked by geologists, that the only fossil remains of animated beings to be found in the earliest secondary rocks, are of this description of zoophytes; and it has therefore been concluded as a positive fact, that zoophytes were the first and most imperfect of an imated beings, from which, by a living principle in nature, all other improvements have gradually sprung up. It may easily be imagined to what absurdities such theories must have led, and from them we may trace the systems of Lamarck, who held, amongst others, the following extraor dinary opinions. He considered that all the forms of anima ted beings, as they now exist, must have been gradually de> veloped, as their wants and necessities demanded. For in stance, the deer, and the antelope tribe, had not originally the delicate forms and nimble activity they now display ; these qualities were produced by the necessity of flying from their enemies,- and of seeking safety by rapid flight. The aquatic birds and beasts having webbed feet to assist them in swim ming, had no such helps in their primitive condition, but by constant action and exertion of the toes, the membrane con necting them at length became extended. But one of the most whimsical of these ideas, perhaps, relates to the unusual length of neck exhibited by the cameleopard, which ^_^ • * In tbe understanding -which has, in a manner, been tacitly agreed upon in science, carefully to exclude every allusion to the Deity, in the contemplation of his works, we constantly find the unmeaning name of nature introduced, even in pages where the admiration of hku -works would make it appear impossible to avoid au acknow ledgment of him from whom all things have arisen. In a posthu mous treatise by Milton, we find the foUowing- just reflections on this subject. — "Though there be not a few who deny the existence of God, for 'the fool hath said in his heart, there is no God,' (Psal. xiv.) yet the Deity has imprinted on the human mind so many unquestion able tokens of himsell, and so many traces of him are found through out the whole creation, tliat no one in his senses cau long remain ig norant of the truth. There are some who pretend tliat nature, or fate, is the supreme power; hut the very name of nature implies that it must owe its birth to some prior fluent ; andjfate can be noth ing hut a Divine decree, emanating from some superior-power." We must, however, in justice admit, that, in the minds of many, the exclusion above alluded to has been acceded to with the very best intention, though this admission may be looked upon as a proof of that very tone in philosophy in general, which is so often opposed to the great truths of Revelation ; for, in the obscurities under which many of the phenomena of creation are still viewed, and under the impression of such obscure and erroneous theories as have been put forth by philosophy, men of the soundest faith must have found themselves so constantly involved in contradiction to the records of inspiration, in the course of their scientific researches, that it would be found more advantageous to the cause of religion to accede to this entire exclusion, than to confound and shatter both, by such continual collision as must occur, till the views of creation become more en lightened, and complete concord is established between Revelation and the phenomena of the world around us. This desirable and inevitable concord is every day advancing with rapid strides ; for, however the theories of philosophy may change, the Rock of Rev elation stands for ever immovably fixed. is described as being originally much like other animals ; but by the habit of feeding on branches of trees, it gradually as sumed the form we now look upon with admiration. Such glaring absurdities as these have long ceased to find support ers ; but it is no less certain that the idea of gradual creation, or production of successive species of animated beings, is still to be found in the principles of our modified philosophy; and that the tribe of zoophytes, or sea animals, resembling plants in their form, is still Jooked upon as the first link in the great animated chain. It will, therefore, not be considered unworthy of our attention, if we take a more extended view ofthe argument, and endeavour to show that such an arrano-e- ment in nature is not only derogatory in the highest degree from the Almighty power and wisdom, but completely at vari ance with a correct view of the animal kingdom. We find it correctly stated in the following extract from one of the most instructive and able works of our times, that the various tribes of zoophytes subsist upon the minute species of animal- cnla, so abundant in the sea as well as in all the other waters of the earth, and which have been called infusoria, from the well known circumstance that scarcely any vegetable sub stance can be infused in pure water, without, in a short time, exhibiting, under the microscope, myriads of such, wonders of the creative power and wisdom. "Zoophytes appear to feed principally on infusoria, (or seaanimalcula,) and they re quired only ihe existence of that class to prepare the sea for their creation. Their remains form the oldest fossil animals met with in the strata of the earth."* The latter part of this passage, from the pen of a leamed professor, shows tliat its author directly pointed towards the above mentioned notion, grounded on French philosophy, although the case is not expressly stated in words ; but, as in all similar doctrines of an unsound philosophy, this passage contains the antidote as well as the poison, for it fixes upon a class of animated beings as food for this first link of the ani mated chain, of all the wonders of creative wisdom, that which is, perhaps, best calculated to excite our most profound admiration. That all created beings present to our admiring view a great chain of various parts* each link connected with its* fellow by easy shades of similarity of structure, is a fact ad mitted by the most cursory student in this wonderful book. But what link of this chain is to be looked upon as less wonderful, or incomprehensible, in its origin, than another? And if, which it would be difficult to do, we can discover one more imperfect than another, for the performance of the great ends to which it is decreed, are we to fix upon this ap parent imperfection as the first attempt and failure of the Almighty hand ? The wonders displayed by the microscope ought for ever to obliterate from our minds any such impious and unworthy notions. That instrument exhibits to us the great fact, that if perfection of design, combined with what we consider difficulty information, is to be looked for in the creation, it is amongst the minutest of the insect tribe that we shall find displayed the most wonderful wisdom of the Creator. All that the most profound genius is capable of inventing, presents but a feeble image of the structure and actions of these minute creatures ; and yet the tribe of zoo phytes, as the most imperfect of created animals, " only required the existence of the class infusoria to prepare the sea for their creation !" Such ideas of imperfection in the works of the Almighty, are quite unworthy of our enlightened times ; , and the streams of knowledge flow to little purpose, if the - head-springs are tainted with such impurities. Our notions ofthe power ofthe Creator never can be more elevated than in contemplating the more minute portions of the animated chain, the wonders of which make it appear as it he wished ¦ to veil his most perfect works from human eyes, and to lavish them on beings the most obscure, and, in appearance the most vile-; for, -according to our finite and imperfect ideas, there would be less difficulty (if we mav so speak of the works of the Almighty,) in forming the large members of the whale, or of the elephant, than the delicate fibres and minute vessels of the gnat or of the spider. Hut as we descend in the scale of magnitude, we seem to ascend in that of perfection and incomprehensible difficulty ; for by the aid ofthe microscope, we discover new wonders at every step of our investigations, and find that our unassisted vision can perceive but one half of the living beings which adorn the earth. The mind is lost in wonder, and is incapable of conceiving what the tongue can so easily express, that there are, in almost all fluids, animals as per- * Edinburgh Encyclopedia, vol. xviii. p, 843. GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 53 feet as ourselves in bodily structure and action, so minute, that it would require millions of them to form the compass of one single grain of sea sand T* But when we thus arrive at the verge of power in our instruments, we have still no rea son to conclude that we have reached the utmost limit of an imated creation. Future instruments may possibly exhibit wonders as great as those we are now considering ; and we thus find, as astronomers have done in the opposite extremity, that we can discover no bounds to creative power and wisdom. • It may also be remarked, that the balance of animal and vegetable productions is so admirably arranged, that the re moval of any one link would serve to throw the whole chain into confusion. We come, then, in conclusion, to the same point from whence we at first set out, viz. that zoophytes could not exist without the animals on which they feed ; and as the same may be concluded, with regard to any other individual species, that all must have been the spontaneous creation of an Almighty power, at one and the same period, and not a gradual production, by the mere laws of nature. We shall have a future opportunity of showing why zoophytes could not but be the earliest fossil productions found in the secondary strata ofthe earth. The supposed chemical process, however, which we were before considering, must have required a much longer period than the inspired writings have given us, to bring it to per fection. The days of the Mosaical history, (which history never could be entirely excluded from the minds of men,) with their evenings and their mornings, were, therefore, forced into the indefinite periods necessary for the operation. Geologists, without any knowledge of the original text, and learned men, without any knowlege of geology, have, therefore, unintentionally formed a species of coalition, the effects of which strike deep into the very root of our confi dence in scripture, and sap the foundation on which our be lief in the Omnipotence and Omniscience of 'an Almighty Crea tor ought to be founded. With whatever pleasure and interest, then, we may follow the more plausible theories of secondary formations on the surface of the earth, it appears impossible for our reason to enter, even in the slightest degree, into the hypothetical sys tems taught by the highest scientific authorities with regard to first formations. We are taught, both by scripture and by our reason, that the earth, as but a small part of an immense sytem, was intended as a temporary abode for immortal souls in their mortal bodies. We have no reason to suppose that we are misled by history, when we are informed that but a very few thousands of years have elapsed since the creation of mankind : we are taught to believe, from what we read in a part of scripture, which it is not so much the object of science to dispute, that a very considerable portion of the historical events of the world has already passed away, and, consequently, we may infer, that the scene on which we now act a part, will not be of immense duration. Now, in con sidering the laws by which events are brought about, and the changes of this world are effected, we never discover so great a disproportion between the means and the end, as would be the case, if we admit, with but two many geologists, that millions of years may have been necessary for the preparation and ripening of this earth from chaos, to fit it up as a stage on which so brief a drama was to be acted. This is one of the first difficulties our reason has to encounter in considering the gradual formation of the globe from secondary causes : but our difficulties are only then beginning, for even if we admit this theory, we do not, in the least degree, advance towards the object of our search; we are as far as ever removed from a Great First Cause, to which our reason is as true as the magnet to its pole. We cannot close our eyes upon the great truth so deeply impressed upon our minds by every thing around us, that, even admitting a chaos, that chaos must have been created in all its component parts. The chemist, in his laboratory, may compound the various substances and fluids, from the qualities of which he is aware that crystals will be formed; but he is obliged to exercise. the knowledge acquired from study and experience, and to apply the heat necessary for their formation. Although he may thus form the com pound, can he create t/ie materials of it? Though he may produce crystals, can lie enact a law by which these beautiful * The rfuthor has lately had an opportunity of demonstrating, in the most unequivocal manner, that it would'require from one to three millions of some active animalcula to form the bulk ot a gram ol sand. This distinct measurement is made by means of a vegetable gradu ated fibre, accidentally discovered in a greenish scum on a gravel walk. forms shall be arranged? No. The potter may form the vessel, but he cannot create the clay. Amongst the many inextricable difficulties in which we become involved, by a departure from the guidance of the sacred record, and by supposing, with the continental philo sophy, that the solid globe was a chemical crystalline deposit from an aqueos chaos, we have to overcome this certain fact in these same laws of nature ; viz. that as we know of no other source of heat, and, consequently, of fluidity on our globe, and, probably, in the other members of the solar sys-» tem, than the sun; as we know that there are parts of our planet around the poles- where no water can exist in a fluid state, for the greater part, if not the whole of the year, from the absence of that sun's influence, nor, indeed, ever cotild have existed since the solar system was arranged ; and as we know that without that solar influence no fluidity could exist on any part of the earth's surface, by the mere laws of nature, (as even mercury becomes solid at a higher temperature than exists at the poles,) how are we to suppose a chaotic aqueous fluid, held together in empty space, and without the melting influence of a sun, which, consistently with this philoso phy, we must conclude was not yet precipitated or crystallized into perfection within its own chaos; for if we adopt the chaotic principle, with regard to our own planet, we cannot, in fairness, refuse it to the other heavenly bodies. In adopting secondary causes, then, or the theory of the for mation of the earth by the mere laws of nature from an aqueous chaos, we must account for fluidity without heat, an effect with out a cause, and directly opposed to all the known laws of nature.* In advocating, then, the chaotic philosophy, we must ac count for the creation of the crude materials of which that chaos must have been composed, and also for those wonderful laws to which matter has been subjected, and by which it is forced to assume those crystalline forms which we so much admire; and being thus forced to acknowledge a Creator so wise and powerful as to be able to form even a chaos out of nothing, (" for if God did not create the first thing* then there is something besides Him that was never made, and then there are two Eternals,"]-) we come to the consideration of his power to create things in a more perfect form. We find that created matter is divided into three kingdoms, as they have been called, of animal, vegetable and mineral; there are few who would now dispute that the first and second of .these great divisions must have been at first formed in a perfect and mature state, although both have since been submitted to laws, through which they must pass from the embryo state to perfection. We cannot for a moment suppose the first man to have been once an infant, or the first oak tree to have * The greatest degree of natural cold that has hitherto been ob served in the open air, is about 50 degrees below zero ; but at the actual poles, and more especially at the south pole, which is sur rounded by ice, and inaccessible by ships for upwards of 1000 miles on all sides, is, probably, at a much lower temperature. Mercury freezes at 39 degrees below zero, and then becomes malleable like any other metal. Thus, at the poles, mercury never could have existed in a fluid state, any more than -water; and the strongest spirits are frozen at a still higher temperature. " All substances in nature, as far as we know them, occur in one or other of three states ; that of solids, of liquids, or of elastic fluids. " In a vast number of cases the same substance is capable of as suming each of these states in succession. Thus, sulphur is usually solid, but at 218 degrees it becomes a liquid, and at 570- degrees it boils, and is converted into an elastic fluid. Water is a hquid, but at •32 degrees it freezes into a solid, while at 212 degrees it boils into an elastic fluid. "All solids (a very few excepted) may be converted into liquids by heating them sufficiently ; and almost all liquids by cooling them sufficiently, may be converted into solids. The law of nature then, is that solids by heat are converted into liquids and elastic fluids; while elastic fluids and liquids by cold are brought into the state of solids." — Edin. Encyclop. Chemistry, p. 36. " From what has been advanced respecting the situation, proper ties and manner of formation of the ice surrounding the pole, we may naturally conclude that a continent of ice-mountains may exist in regions near the pole, yet unexplored, the nucleus of which may be as ancient as the earth itself, and its increase derived from the sea and atmosphere combined." — Scoresby's Arctic Reg. vol. ii, p. 319. t Letter trom Jeremy Taylor, to John Eveline, Esa. ' To your question, ' How it appears that God made all things out of nothing,' I answer, it is demonstrably certain, or else there is no God. For if there be a God, he is the one principle : but if he did not mate the first thing, then there is something besides him that was never made, and then there are two Eternals. Now, if God made the first thing, he made it of nothing. " Your obliged and affectionate servant, " Jehemi- Taylor." 54 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. sprung from an acorn, though all subsequent individuals, in both species, must now pass through these stages. If this perfection of form is admitted, then, in the first creation of the animal and vegetable world, are we to suppose that the mineral productions of the earth were exceptions from this rule? or that a Being so wise and so powerful as to be able to create a man or a tree, with all the wonderful contrivance and design discoverable in each, and above all, endued with a living principle, was yet obliged to form an imperfect mass, and to wait the fermenting or crystallizing process from which its more perfect form was to arise ? The idea is re volting to reason ; and when we have rejected it as improbable, as impossible, then comes inspiration, with its lofty and im posing simplicity, to assist our weak understandings; and to assure us that " in the beginning God created the heaven and the earth." Having, by this line of reasoning, come to the conclusion that the theory of a chaos, or imperfect formation ofthe earth, is not only contrary to our reason, but also in direct opposi tion to history, our belief in the truth of the inspired writings is strengthened and confirmed ; and we feel equally disposed to question those theories of philosophy which account for the present appearances and stratifications on the earth's sur face, by a numerous succession of accidents and revolutions which are supposed by some to have occurred previous to the creation or production of mankind, but subsequent to the earth's having assumed that perfect crystalline form we now discover in the primitive rocks. The demand for time is here again advanced by geologists, who support this theory of alternate revolutions ; and as time is as nothing in eternity, they make whatever draughts they have occasion for upon this inexhaustible fund. It appears that history, as well as the consideration of the present course of things upon the earth, are equally considered as nothing in this philosophy. The minerals ofthe earth have been likened to coins stamped with unknown or difficult characters ; and it is the business of the geologist, as of the antiquary, to decipher and arrange them in chronological order. But as it may safely be pre sumed that the antiquary would make little advance in his work, if he neglected to consult such histories as were within his reach, so we may come to the same conclusion with re gard to the geologist. Ancient coins, minerals or fossils are all equally unintelligible, if we have no guide from history to lead us to an explanation of them. In entering, then, upon our geological inquiries, it appears the more natural course to proceed upwards, from material things as they are now presented to our senses, to the First Great Cause, by which alone they could have been produced ; and then, consulting such history as may be within our reach, to retrace our steps downwards, from the beginning of all things to the present time.* We may thus entertain a con fident hope that all the appearances on the surface of the earth, upon which the theories of philosophy have been founded, may be accounted for by an attentive and unpreju diced, and above all, a docile consideration of the three great events recorded in history, viz. the creation of the earth ,- the formation of a bed for the primitive sea, with the natural causes acting within that sea for upwards of sixteen centuries ; and, lastly, the deluge, with its crowd of corroborative witnesses, togetlier with the subsequent action of natural causes from that time to the present day, or for upwards of four thousand years. With regard to the character of Moses himself, and the books of scripture which were written by him, under the guidance of inspiration, by which alone he could have pro nounced the remarkable prophecies which were afterwards so strictly fulfilled, it would not be to my purpose in this place to enter into discussion. It is enough to say that he is acknowledged by all as the most ancient historian whose works have come down to our times ; and that the frequent notice taken of him by aneient writers, would serve to con firm the truth of his own narrative, even if events foretold did not vouch for his veracity. If the great events thus recorded in the inspired writings, with all their necessary consequences, were as studiously adopted as foundations to build upon, as they have hitherto been studiously set aside in geology, we should soon find in all classes, ardent students in this most interesting science. * In the sixteenth century, the astronomer, John Kepler, of Wir- temburg, presented a work full of wild theory, to the great Tycho Brahe, who, after perusing it, returned it with the following ad vice: — " First, lay a solid foundation for your views by actual obser vation ; and then, by ascending from these, strive to reach the causes of things. " The whole philosophy of Bacon was thus compressed, by anticipation, into one short sentence. But when an ordinary mind, anxiously searching after truth, finds itself launched into a sea of clouds and thick darkness, without star or compass as a guide, it must either desperately proceed from doubt to infidelity, under the guidance of unas sisted reason and philosophy, or must give up the subject in despair of ever reaching the desired object ; happy if it escape the too common taint of unbelief on points incomparably more important than geology. For if the sacred scriptures are the unerring dictates of divine inspiration, which prophecy so fully determines, we must consider them as infallible in every point. If, on the contrary, we find at the very threshold a statement demonstrably false, we should have the strongest possible ground for refusing our belief to the subsequent history. "Infidels have always imagined, and believers have too generally conceded, that the Mosaic account of the early ages of the world is the weakest of the outworks of Christianity. But, on the contrary, we may be persuaded that the firmest ground which even a philosophical believer can take, is the Mosaic record." — Edin. Encyclop. Antediluvian. It is in vain we look for this line of reasoning in the works of those who are generally considered the great leaders in science. Both parties into which geologists have ranged themselves, the supporters ofthe theories of fire and of water, are equally opposed to the simple and unadorned narrative of the sacred historian; and both parties have, consequently, led themselves and their followers into an inextricable maze on the subject of primitive formations. It is, indeed, a melan choly proof, if any such were wanting, of the natural turpi tude of the human mind, that notwithstanding the bright instances which have been and still are found in the opposite scale, so large a portion of those who search deepest into, and who ought, therefore, to be best acquainted with, the works of the Creator, have been so little inclined to give him the credit due to his omnipotence and wisdom, that philosophy and scepticism have been but too often and too justly looked upon as almost synonymous terms. What advances have been made in every branch of science and of arts since the days of Newton, and even since those ofthe great Linnaeus! yet we do not always find a proportioned increase either in faith or in religious zeal. Any attempt to mix up science with religion has, indeed, been' openly condemned by many able writers ; yet the time, it is to be hoped? will come, when the Linneean systems will be followed, as well in religion as in its union with the knowledge of the works of the Creator. The great and good Linnaeus lost no opportunity of expa tiating on the wisdom and goodness of the Almighty. In such expressions of admiration his breast seemed to glow with warmth, and he became truly eloquent.* "Awake, upon the earth," exclaims he, "I have contem plated an immense, eternal, all-powerful, and omniscient God ! I have seen bim, and fallen prostrate in astonishment at his very shadow. I have sought out his steps in the midst of his creatures, even amongst the most imperceptible. What power ! what wisdom ! what inexpressible perfection ! I have observed the animals nourished by vegetables ; these, again, by earthly bodies ; the earth rolling in its unalterable orb round the sun, the burning source of its life ; the sun itself, turning on its axis, with the planets that surround it, forming, with the other stars, indefinite in number, an immense and bound less system. All is ruled by the Incomprehensible Prime Mover, the Being of Beings, as Aristotle has called him, the "'¦ Cause of Causes, the Eternal Architect of his magnificent." work." Even the heathen philosophers have set us an example oh' these great and important points, which the most humble Christians must acknowledge with admiration. "Do you call him Fatality? you are not wrong," says Seneca, "a3 every thingdepends upon him. Do you prefer him under the name of Nature ? you are right ; all things are born from him. If you name him Providence, you are equally right ; for by his orders and councils the world displays its wonders. He is all eye, all ear, all soul, all life ; and human intellect is in capable of comprehending his immensity." " That Being," says the same heathen, "that Cause of Causes, without whom nothing exists, who has constructed and organized all things; who is every where present, and yet escapes our view ; has veiled his August Majesty in a retreat so holy and impene trable, that it is in thought alone that we can reach it. In a beautiful hyrnn of Cleanthes, as preserved by Sto- * This great naturalist and philosopher inscribed over the doorof his lecture room at Upsal : " Innocui vivite, Numen adest." GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 55 baeus, we find the following sublime address to the Deity, under the title of Jupiter : " O God, from whom all gifts descend, who sitteth in thick darkness, dispel all ignorance from the mind of man ; deign to enlighten his soul, draw it to that eternal reason which serves as thy guide and support in the government of the world; so that, honoured with a portion of this light, we may, iii our turn, be able to honour thee, by celebrating thy great works unceasingly in a hymn. This is the proper duty of man. For surely nothing can be more delightful to the in habitants of the earth, than to celebrate that Divine Reason which presides over the world." To such magnificent acknowledgments of a true God, by those whom we call heathens, we may add the beautiful creed of the great Pliny : " We must believe," says he, "that there exists an Eternal, Infinite, and Uncreated Divinity." The light of day, however,.begins to dawn upon this philo sophic night ; and there are many whose eyes begin to be opened, by the very excesses of hypothesis which have been promulgated by their scientific leaders. tThe great end of the study of geology ought to be, a moral, rather than a scientific one; the numerous practical and economical uses to be de rived from it, should be, comparatively, subordinate, and would be fully gained in the course of the inquiry. The study carried on upon this principle in the present day, when sci ence has made such rapid advances, as to have, as it were, shed a new light upon our benighted minds, would have the effect of settling our fluctuating opinions, which may have .been shaken by the suggestions of a false philosophy. Let but a small portion of the brilliant talent be displayed on the science, viewed in this light, that has been expended and lost in hypothetical reasoning for the last half century, and we may confidently trust, that the coalition thus formed between science and religion, will bid defiance to the utmost efforts of infidelity and scepticism.* POSTSCRIPT. Since this work was completed, the " Principles of Geolo' gy," by Mr. Lyell, have appeared; a work of very great tal ent, and full of interesting research and information on the secondary causes in constant action upon the earth. This able writer has, however, taken, in some respects, a new line of theory, and is as desirous of accounting for the phenomena on the surface of the earth, without the aid of any unusual or preternatural convulsion, as other geologists have been to press into their service a constant repetition of deluges and disasters. He sets out upon the principle of Playfair, " that amid all the revolutions of the globe, the economy of nature has been uniform, and her laws are the only things that have resisted the general movement. The rivers and the rocks, the seas and the continents, have changed in all their parts ; but the laws which direct those changes, and the rales to which they are subject, have remained invariably the same."— Title Page. Thus we find, that while Cuvier inculcates the doctrine of numerous deluges, alternately of salt and of fresh water, Mr. Lyell endeavours to account for all things without the aid of any general deluge, though he considers local deluges as amongst the ordinary occurrences of nature, and producing violent local effects. The Mosaic deluge appears to be look ed upon either as a fable, or as a less general catastrophe, than it is usually conceived to have been; and, as a supporter of the Mosaic account of it, it is probable that I shall he class ed among those "physico-theological 'writers," who, in the early days of science, wrote, it is true, but little worthy of saving them from the contempt with which they are here treated. . As may easily be conceived of a theory wherein all things * It may be said of this, and of all other philosophical inquiries, as has been eloquently observed with regard to Christianity. "It is delightful to have every doubt removed, by the positive proof of its trutfi; to feel that conviction of its certainty which infidelity can never impart to her votaries; and to perceive that assurance of the faith which is as superior in the hope which it communicates as in me™mVonwhichit rests, to the cheerless and disquieting doubt. of tbTuXelieving mind. Instead of being a mere prejudice of edu cation which may be easily shaken, belief, tlius founded on reason, SSSeXd an$ immovable; and all the *^h™<£ and speculations of the infidel, lie as lightly on the mind, 01 pass as fmpereeptibly over it, and make as little impression there, as the s^y upon a vo ^tends unbroken lor o50 miles, forming, with others, more or less connect ed with it, a reef upwards of 1,000 miles in length, and varyine from 20 to 50 in breadth. As these reefs are known°to be always Zinde™ m very deep water, they would form, if laid dry, a calcareous forma tion before which many of our considerable mountain ridges would shrink m the comparison We cannot, perhaps, find a morl convinc ing argument in favour of the unchanged position of the axis and the poles ofthe earth since the creation, than in the total absence of coral reefs in the secondary formations of northern and temnerate latitudes. Had the present poles of the earth been in "lie shEm of the present equatorial regions, before the deluge, which is one of the prevailing arguments and sources of error and confusion in modern geology, we should certainly have found, in our secondary quarries, *he petrified remains of former coral reefs. *-"'¦-"" 1 GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 63 We have before found reason, however, to come to a differ ent conclusion. We have found, with Newton, "that it became Him who created all things, to set them in order; and if He did so, it is unphilosophical to seek for any other origin of things, or to pretend that they might have arisen, by the mere laws of nature." We, therefore, conclude, that there must have been a pri mitive soil for the support of a primitive vegetation; that that 6oil must have been loose and friable, as at present, and sub ject, like the present soils, to continual movements by cur rents ; and that it would, consequently, afford the materials for many of the secondary rocks, which geologists cannot other wise account for. I do not here propose entering into the mazes of hypothesis, by attempting to define what were the actual primitive crea tions in the mineral world ; but as secondary formations must always have been in progress, (as they, even now, are going on) occasioned by the combined action of the atmosphere and the currents, their materials, however earthy, must have originally been primitive; and if a primitive vegetable crea tion required support from a primitive soil, we shall find, in the varieties to be naturally expected in such soils, a source for the variety we observe in the colour and grain of second ary rocks. It may be demanded, what cause can be assigned for the variety in the colours of the different secondary formations f As well might a cause be sought for the varied colours of the primitive rocks, or the varied tints of the animal or vegetable world. When the colours of the tiger, the zebra, or the but terfly, are accounted for, we may hope for information as to the cause of chalk or Carrara marble being white, and other calca reous formations being of such variety of shades, down to the blackest marble. There can be no other reason given for such endless variety, but the will of a Beneficent Creator, who hast thoughtfit thus to adorn his incomprehensible creation with in numerable objects, well fitted to convince the most sceptical mortal who will be at the pains to study them, that neither ac cident, nor the laws of chemistry alone, could have produced such admirable variety. It has already been observed, that the currents in the wa ters of the earth are the great agents by which almost all se condary formations have been, and still are, carried on. In order to render this more plain to the intelligence, it will be necessary, in this place, to enter somewhat at large into the subject, and to trace the operations of nature now going on under our eyes. It is certain, then, that there is a continual circulation kept up in the waters of the earth. The heat of the sun causes an immense evaporation from both sea and land. The va pours thus raised, become either visible or invisible, according to the degree of heat in the atmosphere; and thus, when cooled either by their contact with mountains, or by currents of cold air from the poles, they become condensed into drops, and fall upon the earth by their own weight, in the form of rain or snow. But although the supplies of rivers are very materially influenced by the moisture derived from the atmo sphere, in the form of ram or snow, we must be convinced that a more steady and constant supply must be obtained from some other source ; otherwise many rivers would become com pletely dried up during the summer months, when they aTe most wanted for the support of both animal and vegetable life. This steady supply may be traced, in all hilly or mountainous countries, from whence streams generally flow, to the never failing springs invariably found, more or less, in such situa- ations, and which have given rise to much discussion amongst philosophers, to account for such pure and copious steams, which are but little affected by the changes of wet or dry seasons of the year. It is to the action of the atmo sphere alone that we must look for a solution of this problem The day is gone by, when it was supposed that there was some internal communication between the sea, and the springs in the mountains, by means of which those pure and cooling fountains were kept in continual action. The whole process is now familiarly exhibited to our view m our every dining- rooms, by observing the effects of heated air on the surface of the cold caraffes upon our tables. It has been before ex plained, that a great quantity of moisture is absorbed by the atmosphere, from the surface of the waters of the earth, oc casioned by the heat of the sun: this moisture is generally evaporated^n an invisible form ; but it nevertheless pervades in a greater or less degree, every part of the atmosphere, and becomes visible in the form of clouds, when cooled by cold currents of air, or by contact with mountains, the surface oi Which is colder than the temperature of the surrounding at- mosphere. But even in the finest and clearest weather, these watery vapours hover around us, in an invisible shape, and become condensed in the form of dew on the surface of rocks, or of plants, during the absence of the sun, and thus afford nourishment to vegetation even during the hottest weather. But in the hilly and mountainous districts, these vapours are constantly, more or less, condensed upon the surface of the rocks or of the ground; and trickling down the sides and fissures, guided by the direction of the strata, they occasion ally meet with obstructions through which they cannot pass, and are thus forced upwards to the surface, and break forth in the form of springs, which never cease to flow, because the source from which they are supplied can never cease to act.* Every one is familiar -, with the effects of rain. A heavy fall upon the tops ofthe mountains detaches the various sized particles already loosened by the action of the atmosphere. They are hurried along by the little rills into the brooks, by the brooks into the rivers, and finally by the rivers into the sea, the waters of which are partially tinged with these tur bid streams. Every river, in the whole earth, is more or less heavily charged with earthy matter, on its reaching the parent ocean. The nature and colour of this muddy mixture must depend upon those of the countries through which the rivers flow. Having now traced the course of this earthy matter to the sea, it becomes necessary to observe in what way it is disposed of, in the bosom of the depths ; and, for this pur pose, we must consider the nature and action of this great body of waters. The continual influence of the moon, aided in a less powerful degree by the attraction also of the sun, is known to be the occasion of the tides which assist in keeping up the circulation of the waters, j- But a much more power ful agent is continually at work in. producing this effect ; and as this agent, and its effects, do not come so familiarly with in our view, its power is not so generally understood or ac knowledged. This agent is the general system of the currents in the ocean. * It is to this particular action of the atmosphere, when coming in contact with a lower temperature than its own, that we can often trace the cause of that dampness in our houses, which nothing can ever entirely obviate. Granite, whinstone, and some other rocks, are highly objectionable, as building materials, on account of their great coldness ; and in houses built of such materials, one may always ob serve, in winter, on a change from frost to thaw, a dewy appearance standing thick upon the surface, and, in the end, running down in copious streams, like a violent perspiration. The common objection made to such stones, is, that they retain moisture, and perspire at certain times ; this, however, is a vulgar error. If a house be built upon a clay soil, the dampness, which is a usual consequence, does not arise so much from the clay being wet in itself, as from its great coldness, which condenses the warm air of the at mosphere, and thus forms a constant moisture. It is obvious, then,' that sand stone, or brick, as a material, and a light sandy soil, as a foundation, must produce the most dry and healthy dwelling. + The following clear description of the tides is given by Sir Da vid Brewster, in his "Life of Sir Isaac Newton. " " One of the great subjects to which Newton applied the princi ples of attraction and gravity, was, the tides of the ocean. Philoso phers of all ages had recognized the connection between the phenom ena of the tides, and the position of the moon. That the moon is the principle cause of the tides is obvious, from the well known fact, that it is high water at any given place about the time when she is in the meridian of that place ; and that the sun performs a secondary part in their production, is proved by the circumstance, that the high est, or spring tides, take place when the sun, the moon, and the earth, are all in a straight line ; that is, when the force of the attraction of the sun conspires with that of the moon ; and that the lowest, or neap tides, take place when lines drawn from the sun and moon to the earth, are at right angles to each other ; that is, when the force of the attraction of the sun acts in opposition to that of the moon. But the most perplexing phenomenon in the tides, and one which is still a stumbling-block to persons slightly acquainted with the theory of at traction, is the existence of high water on the side furthest from the moon, at the same time as on the side next the moon. To maintain that the attraction of the moon at the same time draws the waters of the earth towards herself, and also draws them from the earth in an opposite direction, seems, at first sight, paradoxical. But the diffi culty vanishes, when we consider the earth, (or rather the centre of the earth ) and the waters on each side of it, as three distinct bodies, placed at different distances from the moon, and, consequently, at tracted with forces inversely proportioned to the squares of their dis tances. The waters nearest the moon will be much more power fully attracted than the centre of the earth, and the centre of the earth more than the waters furthest from the moon. The con sequence of this must be, that the waters nearest the moon will be drawn away from the centre of the earth, and will, consequently, rise from their level; while the earth will be drawn away from the waters opposite the moon, which will, as it were, be left behind, and be in the same situation as if raised from the earth in a direction op posite te that in which they are attracted by the moon." 64 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. These currents have long been remarked by voyagers in every part ofthe sea; and they have been found so powerful that vessels are constantly borne out of their course, unless due allowance be made for their influence. It was long sup posed that these rivers in the ocean were occasioned by the action of the tides ; but modern science and observation has proved this idea to have been unfounded ; and has discovered that there is as regular a circulation in the great deep as in the veins of the human body. These currents chiefly arise from the following causes. In consequence of the powerful action ofthe sun in tropical climates, the loss by evapora tion from the sea, is much greater than can be supplied by the quantity of rain which falls in these latitudes. The moisture thus imbibed by the atmosphere, passes into the regular circulation of the air ; and when carried into the tem perate or polar regions of the earth, it becomes condensed, and falls there in much greater quantity than these regions lose by evaporation. This superabundant supply of water cannot, from the figure and motion ofthe earth, remain where it 'falls, but rushes back towards the equator in currents, the directions of which must depend, in a great measure, on the forms of the coasts they may meet with in their course : and as no strong current can take place either in the air or in the waters, without a variety of eddies, or counter currents, as we familiarly know, on a small scale, by observing a strong stream in any river, or by the draughts of air in our houses, such are abundantly to be found in the ocean, and sometimes on so large a scale, and in such a direction, as might appear in opposition to the system above explained, unless the whole be viewed upon an enlarged scale. It has been supposed by some, that the winds, and especially the regular trade winds, have a great influence on the currents of the ocean, and may even be regarded as the cause of this constant motion in the waters. But this is taking too superficial a view ofthe subject. It is known that the currents of the air affect the surface of the waters, merely by contact and friction in the same manner as in the friction of any other two substances ; and however the surface of the ocean may be agitated by this contact, and raised into waves by its force, we cannot suppose it capable of acting to any considerable depth, or of displacing large bodies of water^ It is, indeed, understood, that though the swell of a wave advances on the surface, the water over which it moves remains nearly stationary; so that, although the winds may, in some small degree, aid or impede the tides or the currents, they cannot be considered the cause of the move ment, any more in the one case than in the other. TheTe appears to be a close resemblance between this circulation kept up in the waters, and that known to exist in the atmosphere. In the latter we have winds of various power and continu ance, and also whirlwinds, occasioned, like the whirlpools in fluids, by the action of two contrary streams, or by the dis turbance occasioned by an opposing object. There are also such decided counter-currents in the air, from the effort to preserve a just balance in that element, that it is a common practice with aeronauts to send up a small balloon before launching their larger one, in order to discover in what direc tion the upper currents of the wind may be setting. The whole system of the currents in the ocean can proba bly never be distinctly defined, on account of its great extent, and the very partial observations of voyagers. Besides, there must be a constant though slow alteration in the directions of their smaller divisions, according as the opposing objects are gradually worn away. But the general outline of tbe larger branches may be traced with tolerable distinctness, and may be here explained as they now exist in our own times. The present great system of currents, then, may be traced from the western coast of America across the Pacific ocean ; of this current we as yet know little, but that it exists. But one branch of it strikes on the south of New Holland, running through Bass's Straits, round South Cape; and another branch runs amongst the islands of the Archipe lago, on the north of New Holland. On entering the Indian ocean, and meeting the south polar current, it runs through the gulf of Bengal, round cape Comorin, and over to Africa, acquiring great velocity in its passage. From the straits of Babelmandel, it keeps always a south-west direction, till it doubles the Cape of Good Hope, when it turns to the north-west, following the line of the coast. On approaching the equator it sets nearly west. When in the latitude of three degrees north it meets with another current, which has run southerly along the west coast of Africa, with which it unites, and crosses the Atlantic, nearly W. S. W. On reaching the Brazils, it diverges at cape St. Augustine into two streams; one going S. W. parallel with the coast till it doubles Cape Horn, where it meets the south polar currents. The other part of this great Atlantic stream proceeds in a northerly di rection through the gulf of Glandin, along the shores ofthe United States, where it is called the Gulf Stream, to New foundland; and here it is backed by the north polar currents; takes an easterly course across the Atlantic, coming over to the coast of Norway and the British Isles, and turning thence to the south, through the bay of Biscay, and along the coasts of Spain and Africa, meets the great southern current in the latitude of three degrees north. The breadth of the African branch of this magnificent ocean river is supposed to be from 150 to 1000 miles. At the Cape of Good Hope it runs at the rate of about two miles an hour; at the equator three and a half; and in the Gulf Stream four miles an hour. It may easily be supposed what changes must be con stantly taking place in the bed of the ocean, and on the shores of the dry land, by the never-ceasing action of these currents, the force of which is too powerful to be more than slightly affected by the action of the tides or the winds. There is, probably, a very great re-action also below the surface, and at greater depths than our very limited observations can penetrate.* It such is the power and action of the currents and the tides in the earth, as it now is, we may safely conclude that they were not less active in the Antediluvian seas, the beds of which we now inhabit; having it thus in our power to examine the various strata of earthly debris, which, in the course of more than sixteen centuries, were deposited in va rious directions, according to the partial changes that must be constantly taking place in the direction of the currents, as the opposing points by which they are in a great degree guided, are worn away. Having thus found one agent of sufficient power to remove vast quantities of mineral matter from the land into the ocean, and another, the effect of which is, gradually to arrange this matter in strata more or less horizontal, according to the form or slope of the primitive bed on which they are deposited, we can have little difficulty in accounting for most.of the phe nomena now discovered in the lower secondary formations of our earth. For the upper secondary formations and alluvial soils, we shall find a full and sufficient cause when we come to tbe consideration ofthe Mosaic deluge. We must now resume the consideration of the primitive ocean from its first being " gathered together" until the Mo saic deluge, a period amounting to about 1 656 years ; and which will be found fully sufficient to account for many of the geological phenomena exposed to our view. For when we apply to the utmost depths of secondary formations, the scale on which we are now considering the whole earth; and also when we think of the great extent of decomposition and re formation incessantly proceeding in our own times, we shall feel satisfied that the indefinite periods assumed by the chaotic philosophy, are infinitely greater than the existing phenomena demand ;\ and we shall, consequently, have a more confirmed confidence in the truth of the inspired record. CHAPTER V. General Nature of the Formations on the Earth.— Origin and Progress vf Secondary Formations.— Causes of Stratification in Secondary Rocks.— Such Deposits become graduaUy Mine ralized.— Calcareous 'Formations. — Salt Deposits. — Proof of Granite not being an Aqueous Deposit. — Scccmdary Forma tions now in Progress in the Bed ofthe Ocean. The active researches of geologists into the existing phe nomena on the surface ofthe earth, have led to the following conclusions with respect to mineral bodies. "Primitive Rocks " Consist only of crystalline formations; They contain no organic remains; They are found below all other rocks ; And they rise from the base, through all other rocks, formins,' the summits of the most lofty mountains. * We may look for much interesting and useful information re specting the currents ot the ocean, in a work now in course of publication, and written by the late Major Rennell. It is under stood to apply, more particularly, to the currents of the Atlantic. $ See page 55, and note, page 05. GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. " Transition and Floetz, (or Secondary Rocks,) "Consist partly of crystalline, partly of mechanical deposits ; I hey contain orgatfio remains of sea shells; And are never found under primitive rocks. "Alluvial Deposits " Consist of mechanical deposits ; They result from the ruin of rocks ; They contain abundance of shells, together with the bones of quadrupeds," and ofthe human race ; "And they are found above all the other rocks."* Thus far the chaotic and the Mosaic geologies coincide ; the facts are self-evident, and within the reach of every one who will take the trouble to examine them. But when the causes by which these facts have been produced, come under consideration, the two geologies separate ; the one following the path which history has marked out, and which reason can comprehend, leading at every step towards the light of truth ; the other, under a variety of leaders, plunges into the dark and devious mazes of hypothesis, rejects the guidance of history, and is led more and more into obscurity and error. There is no possible way of clearing this labyrinth and of gaining the desired end, but by retracing our steps and tak ing advantage of the clue which history affords us. But in doing this, we must keep constantly in mind the difficulties from which we have escaped ; and the impossibility we have experienced of tracing primitive effects to secondary causes. Truth and reason acknowledge but one primitive cause; and that is, an Almighty, though to us, incomprehensible Creator. Having found the arguments in favour of secondary causes, or the mere laws of nature, as they are called, totally insuffi cient to account satisfactorily to our reason, for the first formation of crystallized mineral bodies, any more than for the first formation of animal or vegetable bodies, we come to the unavoidable conclusion that they were all the creative work of an Almighty hand. But as it is evident that this creation, as soon as completed, was submitted to certain laws, by some of which a constant succession of decay and re-for mation was to be kept up in the mineral world, at least as far as regards the mere surface of the earth, it may be con sidered quite within the scope of our reason to examine these laws, and to account for these secondary effects by secondary causes. - We find, then, that it is one constant law of the Creator that the action of the atmosphere shall decompose or break up the mineral bodies exposed to its influence. We find another called the law of gravity, by which the waters of the earth, in seeking their own level, are hurried from the highest mountains to the sea ; carrying along with them abundance of mineral matter in the shape of sand, mud and gravel. We find a third law by which the waters of the ocean are kept in constant agitation ; and the mineral matter imported by the rivers, is arranged in classes, according to the weight and volume of its parts, and distributed over the sea bed in va rious directions, and in various quantities, according to the nature ofthe currents which remove it.j- 65 These three laws, which have been in constant action since the first creation of the seas, the rivers, and the atmosphere, which events, history informs us, took place about 6000 years ago, are fully sufficient to account for a prodigious accumula tion of decomposed mineral matter in the bed of the ocean.* Should any event, then, take place to enable us to examine that bed in a dry state, we could feel no surprise if we should discover the original crystallized surface of the earth, loaded with various accumulations, resulting evidently from such de composition of rocks as the atmosphere every where occa sions, as the rivers every where become charged with, and as the currents of the ocean must, at all times, be depositing. As it is one part of the laws of gravity, that deposits in fluids shall fall to the bottom, in the same horizontal position in which these fluids themselves are retained by attraction, we should expect to find these deposits in this particular posi tion ; unless the irregular form of that part of the primitive earth on which they happened to be laid, occasioned an ir regularity also in the deposited mass. Should any very con siderable elevation or irregularity have existed on the primi tive surface of the earth, such as we now denominate an Al pine height, but at the bottom of the primitive sea, we should expect to discover the various horizontal deposits of various changing currents laid one above another, towards its top. If this top had been of sufficient elevation to be above the sur face of the waters in the form of an island, we should not look for any such deposits above the level which the waters had reached ; but, on the contrary, we should expect to find the bare primitive rock free from all secondary formation.! After taking this general view of the bed of a former ocean, supposing it to be within our power to do so, we should naturally enter upon a more minute examination of the vari ous mineral masses of which these deposits were formed4 * Phillips's Geology. ¦j- This law of arrangement, which is founded on the law of gravity, may be looked upop as the great agent in distinct stratification. And as this law could not be in force without the lateral movement kept up by the currents of the ocean, we cannot look for its effects in situations where such constant action and re-action of currents do not exist. Thus we never can expect to find the secondary forma tions of fresh water lakes, however extensive, in the same stratified arrangement as in the bed of the sea. Whatever sand, mud, gravel or rock is lodged in a lake by rivers, must, therefore, remain exactly in the same irregular mass as when first imported and de posited ; and, accordingly, we never find the shores of lakes, or the banks of rivers, presenting the same distinct classification as is al ways found, more or less, on the sea shores. For the same reason, we may be assured that in draining marshes or lakes, when we cut through distinct strata of sand, marl, gravel, or fine clay, which are all generally found in strata in such situations, we are to attri bute such deposits, as well as their fossil contents, to a period when the action of the sea was in force ; and that the hollow basin-like form which now causes a marsh or a lake, must have been at least partially coated with marine strata at the period of the deluge. We must, however, be guided by circumstances, in forming a judgment in such cases, as there can be no doubt that many places which were formerly shallow lakes or marshes, are now nearly dry, from the growth of peat, or the accumulation of the debris of land streams ; and.we must, consequently, judge of the nature of the soils, and of the period of the fossil deposits, according to their degree of strati fication, and the nature of the embedding soils. The remains of deer and other animals often found in peat mosses, must, therefore, be considered antediluvian, or, otherwise, according Vol. II.— I to the situation in which they oecur, and according to the presence or absence of land streams, by the agency of which the deposits might have been made. The well known fossil elks of Ireland, and of the Isle of Man, may probably be regarded as truly antediluvian ; though geologists have often considered them as much more modern. * In a late publication by Mr. Lyell, which has come under my notice since the above was written, and which is a work full of in formation of the most important kind, with regard to natural secondary causes, which he considers sufficient to account for all the appearances on the surface of the earth, we find a calculation with respect to the quantity of mud lodged in the sea by the Ganges, which appears, as it is well calculated to do, to shake to its founda tion the theory of the author ; for it is obvious, that it proves too much to suit his idea of millions of years, as the age ofthe world. After stating the calculations of Rennell, and of Major Colebrooke, with respect to the waters of the Ganges, which are calculated to contain one part, in four, of. mud, Mr. Lyell continues : "But, al though we can readily believe the proportion of sediment in the waters of the Ganges to exceed that of any river in northern lati tudes, we are somewhat staggered by the results to which we must arrive, if we compare the proportion of mud, as given by Rennell, with his computation of the quantity of water discharged, which latter is probably very correct. If it be true that the Ganges, in the flood-season, contains one part, in four, of mud, we shall then be obliged to suppose that there passes down, every four days, a quan tity of mud, equal in volume to the water which is discharged in the course of twenty-four hours. If the mud be assumed to be equal to one half the specific gravity of granite, (it would, however, be more,) the weight of matter daily carried down in the flood sea son, would be about eijual to 74 times the weight of the Great Pyra mid of Egypt. Even if it could be proved that the turbid waters of the Ganges contain one part in a hundred of mud, which is possi ble, and which is affirmed to be the case in regard to the Rhine, we should be brought to the extraordinary conclusion, that there passes down, every day, into the Bay of Bengal, a mass more than equal in weight and bulk to the Great Pyramid. " — Principles of Geology, vol. i. page 284. Let die candour of this very able author calculate this effect over the whole earth for 2000 years, and then consider it as having acted for one or two millions of years ; and let him say which result bears the most just proportion to the secondary formations actually found to load the primitive surface of the earth. + "Of the nature of the bed of the ocean we know but little. The portions of it which have been explored by soundings, are found, in one place, to contain immense collections of the wreck of testaceous animals, intermixed with sand or gravel ; and in another, to consist of soft alluvial mud, several feet in depth. Donati found the bottom ofthe Adriatic to be composed of a compact bed of shells, not less than a hundred feet in thickness. " — Edin. Encyclop. Physi cal Geography^ p. 518. It was likewise discovered, in the researches of Donati, that, at a very few feet below tbe surface of the bed of the Adriatic, the de posits were converted, by pressure, and by the actions of the chemi cal laws of nature, into solid marble, and the shells completely petrified. ": " Various marine substances are to be found almost in every part of the extensive province of Chili, and even on the tops of some of its lofty mountains. In the main ridge of the Andes, the internal 66 CHRIS.TIAN LIBRARY. And here we should soon find that the laws by which the world is governed, are not confined to those three, by the ac tion of which these deposits have been formed. We should have to consult the voluminous code of chemical laws, the foundations of which, like those of all the other laws of God, are beyond our comprehension ; but in the action of which, human science has made so many brilliant discoveries. We should every where discover effects produced by these chemi cal laws, varying according to the situation, and the nature of the materials to be acted upon. Instead of finding these ma terials, when freed from the waters in which they had been deposited, simply in the state of dry sand, mud, or gravel, and equally loose and friable as they must have been at the period of their deposition, we should find them cemented to gether in the most solid and compact manner. All the inter vening spaces between the angles of the grosser particles, filled up with a stony matter, and the whole assuming the appearance and qualities of solid rock.* Where cavites had, by any accident, been formed, either in the first deposition, or, as would be more probable, in the course of desiccation, we should frequently find that wonder ful and unaccountable law in operation, by which fluids as sume, in drying, a crystalline form. As the primitive ocean had, by the command ofthe Almighty, produced, "abundant ly the moving creature that hath life ;" and as many of these creatures were destined to become the permanent inhabitants ofthe deep, we should feel no surprise, in every where discover ing more or less of animal remains, mixed up with the mineral deposits of their own proper element. But as the fish of the sea, as well as the fowls of the air, and the beasts of the field, are guided by the laws of instinct for their self-preser vation ; and as instinctive self-preservation would lead them, when alive, to keep upon thesurface of these gradually form ing deposites, unless when overpowered or buried by any unusual accumulation, we should seldom expect to find more than the shelly remains of the crustaceous animals. f Even these would be looked for, but in small numbers, in the first structure consists of primitive rocks of granite and quartz. The maritime arid midland mountains, together with the lateral chains of the Andes, are of secondary formation ; their strata, which are hori zontal, and of unequal thickness, abound with marine productions, and contain the impressions of animal bodies."— Molina's Natural and Civil History of Chili. * We are sometimes enabled to form some idea of the operations in the great laboratory of nature, and can thus trace, in some re markable instances, the action of this petrifying power. One ofthe most remarkable of these instances is described by Mr. Morier as existing in Persia, not far from Maragha. A mineral spring issues from the earth in bubbles, and falls into a basin of about 15 feet in diameter. On flowing over the edges of this basin, the water spreads over the ground, forming numerous ponds and plashes, and in these it becomes hard, and produces that beautiful transparent stone, com monly called Tabreez marble. "The process of petrifaction," says Mr. Morier, " may be traced from its first beginning to its termination. In one part, the water is clear ; in a second, it ap pears thicker, and stagnant ; in a third, quite black ; and, in the last stage, it is white, like hoar frost. The petrified ponds look like frozen water ; a stone slightly thrown upon them breaks the crust, and the black water exudes. But where the operation is complete, a man may walk upon the surface without wetting his shoes. A section of the stony mass appears like sheets of rough paper, in ac cumulated layers. Such is the constant tendency of this water to become stone, that the bubbles become hard, as if, by a stroke of magic, they had been arrested, and metamorphosed into marble. " Instances nearly as remarkable, are seen atthe falls of Terni in Italy, at the famous hot springs in Iceland, in Derbyshire, and in many other places. " I saw," says Saussure, " on the sea shore, near the Pharo de Messina, sands which were loose and friable, when lodged by the waves on the shore, but which, by means of the calcareous juice in filtrated into them by the sea, gradually becomes so hard, as to be used as millstones. This process takes place in the course of a very few years." — Comp. Estim. vol. ii. p. 45. + In the course of considerable experience in the search of fossil shells in various secondary formations, I have been led to the con clusion that these fossil remains must, in by far the greater number of cases, have been embedded after the death of the fish that in habited them. The chalk formation is especially remarkable for the perfect state of preservation in which it renders up its fossil treasures ; and they are often found retaining the remains of their most delicate parts, as perfect as when first embedded. In the case of the echini, for example, many of which are, in the natural state, covered with spines, like a hedgehog, I have found, in a few of the most perfect fossil specimens, just sufficient indication of a spine, to convince me how complete they would have been, had they been buried in a living state. But as they are almost always, more or less, stripped of their spines, it appears certain that they must have been exposed to the friction of the waters, in an empty state, before they were covered up. The fractured and disordered position of fossils in general, also tend to the same opinion. marine deposits ; and they would afterwards be found gradu ally more abundant, as the bed of the sea became more load ed with the remains of past generations.* We could have little expectation of discovering the remains offish, and still less, those of quadrupeds, in these gradually formed sea depos ites ; for though race after race, of the finny tribes, must have perished from the very first, and the bodies of many land an imals, and even of human beings, must have been conveyed to the ocean, in the common course of events, before the flood; yet that wonderful law of God, by which so justa balance is preserved throughout the animal creation, would have prevented almost a possibility of the remains of the dead being covered up, or preserved : for no sooner does a fish perish, than its body disappears among the voracious tribes of the deep ; and those of terrestrial animals could rarely meet with any other fste.f On a closer inspection of some of the finer earthy deposits, having every appearance of having once been a tenacious mud, we should find them variously loaded with these crus taceous remains. We should also find, that the whole mass had become impregnated with a calcareous quality, which was not to be found in any of the formations generally considered primitive ; and which, therefore, must have been acquired by some of those chemical laws at all times in action in the world. We should find some difficulty in coming to any positive conclusion with respect to the original cause of this calcareous property ; more especially, when we discover a similar calcareous principle in the shells and bones of both terrestrial and marine animals.-f: The deposits of salt which we might discover, would, in no way, surprise us, having had connexion with waters of the same briny character. But the question, whether the saltness of the ocean be derived from the mineral, or the mineral be a chemical deposit from the water, would probably lead us out of the plain beaten track we had determined to pursue, and should, therefore, be declined, and left for future investiga tion, as not in any way affecting the general question.§ In the whole of this general review of the secondary for mations, however, we should be deeply impressed with this remarkable fact, that in all these various formations, in which the laws of chemistry had been observed to have acted so powerfully, and in some of which even crystallization ap peared, in many cases, to have taken place, we should dis cover no trace of such formations as we had previously re marked in primitive rocks, which we had been taught to believe were originally crystallized in an aqueous Jluid of the very self same character. We should no where find granite, or any other primitive rock, amongst the secondary chemical deposits; and we should consider this fact alone, as a positive confirmation of the con clusion we had before come to by a different process, viz. that the primitive creations never could have arisen in an aqueous fluid, by the mere laws of nature. It is scarcely necessary to observe, that the case which has been here put hypothetically, of having it in our power to make this actual survey of the bed of the former ocean, has in fact occurred ; as is sufficiently testified by the numerous phenomena presented to us, over nearly the whole surface of the present dry land. But in order to form a more defined idea of the mode of secondary formations, let us, for a moment, consider the ac tion of these same laws by which we have supposed them to have been formed, as they may, at any time, be observed go- * See page 61, note. t Fish* are rarely found in a fossil state in the lower secondaiy formations ; but the fact occasionally occurs, as might be expected, as exceptions to what may be called a general rule. They are, however, found in great abundance in diluvial formations, as we shall have occasion to perceive, in considering the effects of the deluge. t " The component parts of bones are chiefly four ; namely, earthy salts, fat, gelatine, and cartilage. The earthy salts are four in number, 1st. Phosphate of lime, which constitutes by far the greater part of the whole. 2d. Cardonate of lime. 3d. Phosphate ot magnesia. 4th. Sulphate of lime."— Edin. Encvclop. Chemistry, p. 138. r " Lime has been known from the remotest ages. It abounds in every part of the earth, constituting immense ranges of rocks and mountains. It may be obtained by burning calcareous spars, and certain marbles. Oyster shells, when burnt, yield it nearly Dure "— Ibid. p. 45. J v • § The saline principle so generally found in all animal produc tions, would incline us to refer all saltness to the great laboratory of nature, and not to attribute it solely to marine origin. With regard to salt, as a solid mineral body, I shall have occasion to make some remarks upon it, in a subsequent chapter. [See chap. 8.) GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 67 ing on under our eyes. Let us station ourselves on a part of the sea coast, near the mouth of any great river, and consider how the laws of nature are continually acting. We must, however, in the absence of extensive primitive coasts, which are now scarcely any where to be found, content ourselves jvith illustrations from the secondary and alluvial formations with which our present shores are loaded ; so that the second ary deposits, now in progress, are formed from secondary rocks, instead of from primitive, as the antediluvian deposits must have been. Let us station ourselves, for instance, on that point of our own shores, formed by the Isle of Thanet, where we have, to the south, a great extent of chalky coast, and to the north, the mouth of our noble Thames. And, first, let us observe the action of the atmosphere on the chalky cliffs of this island, There are few of the secondary formations more easily affect ed than the chalk, by the alternate moisture and dryness of our climate : and this is materially assisted by the chemical action of the salt from the spray of the sea. In the spring of the year, when the heat of the sun becomes powerful, and evaporates the abundant moisture imbibed by the chalk dur ing the winter, the whole surfaee of the cliff, as it were, ex foliates ; and large masses, becoming detached, are precipitat ed on the sands below, in a crumbling heap of ruin. The very first succeeding tide that flows, begins the work of trans portation ; and the waters Tetire, on the ebb tide, loaded with the finest particles of this chalky ruin. But though this in satiable enemy retires white with its booty, and sullies, for a considerable distance, the purity of the ocean, yet, on every succeeding flow, it again advances empty handed : the flow ing waves are as transparent as if no chalk existed on the whole coast. A few weeks ot months of this never-ceasing action gradually diminishes even the most solid portions of the chalk; and, at length, the sands are as pure and as free from earthy matter, as if no fall had ever taken place. Now, though we may liken this gradual disappearance of the chalk to that of salt or sugar immersed in water, there is this most material difference ; that in the one case, the matter is actual ly dissolved, and held in solution as long as the moisture continues ; but in the other, the indissoluble earthy particles of the chalk are carried off bodily by the waves ; and are only held in suspension, until, by their own weight, they sink to the bottom of the sea, and are added, in the form of mud, to beds that must have been in the course of formation ever since that great revolution which placed the chalky bottom of the antediluvian sea in a situation to be thus acted upon as the high coast of the postdiluvian ocean.* It is not so easy to determine in what part of the bed of the "sea this chalky mud is now being deposited ; but there is considerable reason to suppose that it is not in the immediate neighbourhood of the present shores : for there, the currents seem to deposit sand in such immense quantities, as to render the navigation both difficult and dangerous. We no where hear of a muddy bottom : every thing is either sand or solid chalk. And here we have numerous examples of the changes that are gradually effected in the form and structure of the bed of the ocean. Every old pilot, well acquainted with the difficult navigation of this part of the coast, can relate in stances, within his own memory, where the shifting nature of the sand banks renders the most watchful attention to the landmarks, and buoys, so necessary. The form and extent of the fatal Goodwin sands have undergone considerable changes within a comparatively short period of time. They now extend many miles in length, and are formed of so pure a sand, that scarcely a shell is to be found upon Shem, and no gravel whatever. The ramifications of this bank, extending northward towards the mouth of the Thames, are all formed of an equally pure sand, which is dry and hard at low water. f Now, as all this sand is aprimitive crystalline formation, hav ing no mixture of calcareous earths, except, perhaps, particles of broken sea shells, in small quantity, we must conclude, that it is brought from other parts, by the currents, and that the lighter and finer muddy deposits, which are not found so commonly on that coast, are carried off and deposited in some of the depths of the ocean. Wherever these secondary formations may be in the act of deposition, we could feel no surprise, if, on examining them in a dry and hard state, we should discover, embedded in them, the shells of such crustaceous animals as may in habit these depths ; and if we should even find the remains offish, or " creeping thing," with which we were unacquaint ed, we should not feel justified in concluding that they were not the inhabitants of our present seas, or not of existing species, because our research had not yet penetrated their deep abodes. For we may rest assured, that however minute ly we may scan the dry land, and its various productions, there are treasures in the great deep, that are for ever placed far beyond the eye of the most active naturalist. But let us now turn our thoughts towards the flowing Thames, and observe the continual operations carried on by its unwearied waters. We shall find them charged with a load of earthy matter, collected, in their course, from the va rious formations through which the river flows. This burden must necessarily be of the most indiscriminate character ; but these various bodies are to be deposited in an element where each species of importation is most exactly sifted, and every thing is arranged according to its own particular class. The muddy, the sandy, or the gravelly bodies, which are thus in constant motion downwards, from the highest sources of the river, are all at length submitted to the action of those laws of nature, which regulate the deep. We cannot sup pose that all this earthy matter remains in the form of banks and shoals, near the immediate mouth of the river itself; for if this were the case, that mouth must long since have been completely blocked up. But, although we always find rivers closed, more or less, with a bar, occasioned by the contend ing action of the tide, and the stream ; yet we do not per ceive that bar materially to increase ; for the exact balance is, at all times, kept up by the constant removal of superflu ous matter, by the action of the currents of the neighbouring ocean.* * There cannot exist a doubt, that, though England be now se parated from France by a distance of from 20 to 40 miles, and that distance be now occupied by the sea, the whole intervening space, and a great extent of both countries, form one continuous secondary formation of chalk, of which the basins of Paris, London, and the Isle of Wight, so well known to geologists, form a part It is the opinion of some, whose ideas in geology are quite unfettered by history, as to time, that the two countries were once united, and that the separation has been effected by gradual decay, from the action of the sea upon a narrow isthmus. But history will not bear us out in this idea ; for we know, from certain landmarks, which existed many centuries ago, such as the Roman part of Dover Castle, and other ancient buildings on the coast, that the decay of the cliffs, though constant and gradual, has not been such, in the last 2000 years, as to warrant any such conclusion, supposing die deluge to have taken place, as we have reason to know it did, about 4000 years ago. t It is traditionally reported, that this formidable sand bank, m which the wreck of many a tall ship has been buried, was once a cultivated island, and part of the property of the Earl of Godwin. The ancient Roman castle of Richborough, about a mile north of Sandwich, was once a sea port, though it is now fully two miles from the shore. At that period, the Isle of Thanet was really an island, being separated from the main land by a channel, at one end of which was Richborough, and at the other Reculvers, both Roman stations, under the names of Ritupium and Rigulbium. In the Rom- ney Marsh, on the south coast of Kent, there was another Roman port, which is now several miles from the shore. * As an instance of the power with which rivers act, in filling up inland lakes, and in adding to the accumulations in the bed of the sea, the following example may serve to give an idea. The river Kander, a mountain torrent of no great size, rushes down the valley of Kanderthal, in the Canton Burne, in Switzerland, and enters the lake of Thoun, about four miles from the town so called. About a hundred years ago, this stream did not flow into the lake, from which its course was cut off by a ridge of diluvial hills of several hundred feet in height, stretching along the south side of the lake, in a north-westerly direction. This diluvial ridge, extending more than ten miles in length, is entirely composed of rounded gravel, or pudding stone. In consequence of the mischief done by the overflowing of the Kander, to a great extent of valuable meadow land, in its course to join the Arr, ten miles below Thoun, which was its natural course, a spirited plan was proposed and adopted, for cutting a subterrane ous passage for the river, through the above mentioned ridge, at a place where it approached the lake within about a mile, and thus admitting it into its bed. This passage was cut in the beginning of the last century (about 1715.) The descent was rapid, from the lake being considerably lower than the old course of the river. At this period, the depth of the lake was in proportion to the steep hills forming its shore. The Kander had not long followed its new sub terraneous course, when it greatly enlarged the artificial tunnel, and hurried great quantities of gravel into the lake. The rapidity of the torrent in a few years enlarged its course, till at length the whole su perstructure gave way, and fell in; so that there is now a most ro mantic wild glen, where, a century ago, there was smooth pasture and wood lands. The effects of the torrent soon became apparent in the lake : an immense quantity of gravel, and every species of rock, was carried in by the current, and lodged in its bed. In 1 829, when I lived in that neighbourhood, the bed formed of this debris, was of not less extent than 300 acres ; the greater part was covered with thick wood ; and this secondary formation is every year increasing in the same proportion ; so that, as the lake is not there of great breadth, there is every prospect of a rapid and most material 68 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. If this, then, is the system now in action, on a small por tion of our own shores, to what an extent must it be going on around our whole island. And if we extend our view, and consider the more gigantic scale of the rivers on the con tinents, and the more direct influence ofthe great currents upon their vast importations, we shall find a cause fully sufficient for the formation of secondary deposits of great depth and variety, in the course of a comparatively short space of time. CHAPTER VI. The Deluge. — Traditional Evidence of that Event. — Erroneous Ideas commonly entertained respecting it. — Distinctness of Scripture on the Subject. — Evidence from Scripture. — Evi dence from the Ancient, though Apocryphal, Book of Enoch. — Theories of Philosophy on the Subject. — The most probable Cause of that Destructive Event: In the former part of this work, and in taking a general view of the phenomena presented to our observation on the sur face of our earth, a confident hope was held out, that we should be able fully to account for all those phenomena, by considering, with a candid and unprejudiced judgment, the three great events recorded in history, viz. 1st, the creation of the world ; 2d, the formation of a bed for the gathering to gether of the waters, together with the action of the laws of na ture within that bed , for upwards of sixteen centuries ; and last ly, the deluge, as described by Moses in the book of Genesis. We have already, at some length, considered the two first of these greatevents; and in the last ofthe two, we have found an unquestionable source of very extensive secondary forma tion, and sufficient to account for a large proportion of all those, actually existing, on the primitive surface of the earth. We have thus satisfactorily explained the formation of the transition rocks containing few or no fossil remains ; and also accounted for the early sand stone, and calcareous formations, together with the abundance of fossil sea shells found in the latter. We now, therefore, come to the consideration of that great event by which so complete a revolution has occurred upon the earth, and by means of which alone we are now enabled to trace out a part of the operations of those laws, to which the world has been submitted by its Creator. For had we now been placed in the situation of the antediluvian world, as in habitants of a primitive surface, we could have had none of that information which we now derive from the inspection of the secondary formations on which we dwell. " According to the most approved systems of chronology, this remarkable event happened in the year 1656, after the cre ation, or about 2348 years before the Christian eera. — Of so general a calamity, from which only a single family of all then living on the earth was preserved, we might naturally ex pect to find some memorials in the traditionary records of Pa gan history, as well as in the sacred volume. Its magnitude and singularity could scarcely fail to make an indelible im- change taking place in its form. I have sounded the lake at the present mouth of the Kander, and, asi found no bottom with a line of about a hundred feet, we are certain that this mountain stream has, in little more than one century, produced a secondary bed of mixed materials, of fully three hundred acres, and at least one hundred feet in depth. One circumstance, however, is worthy of remark, with respect to such secondary formations in fresh water lakes ; and that is, that in consequence of the absence of tides and currents, and that con stant lateral movement kept up in the bed of the sea, we never dis cover in them that stratified regularity so remarkable within the ac tion of the tide. The mixture of mineral bodies carried into an in land lake, remains, therefore, exactly as deposited at the first, and this must always be in great confusion. The difference of effect, may, perhaps, be safely taken as a guide, in judging of what some geologists have called salt and fresh water formations ; and if this idea be correct, we have an additional evidence against the extraor dinary theories of Cuvier, who supposed the well defined strata of the Paris basin to have been occasioned by the alternate occupation of that basin by salt and fresh water. The rounded pebbles and sand, found in lakes, are never formed in the lakes themselves, as they are in the bosom of tbe sea, but are carried into them by the rivers nearly in the shape in which we find them. It may, therefore, be safely assumed, that the regular strata of sand, or gravel, or of fine clay, found in mosses, and shallow lakes, if quite distinct from other strata, must have been formed at the period of the deluge, under the influence and by the agency of tbe action of the sea. pression on the minds of the survivors, which would be com- municated from them to their children, and would not be ea sily effaced from the traditions even of their latest posterity. A deficiency in such traces of this awful event, though it might not entirely invalidate our belief of its reality, would certainly tend considerably to weaken its claim to credibility ; it being scarcely probable that the knowledge of it should be utterly lost to the rest of the world, and confined to the doc uments of the Jewish nation alone. What we might reasonably expect, has accordingly been • actually and fully realized. The evidence which has been ( brought from almost every quarter of the world, to bear upon > the reality of this event, is of the most conclusive and irre sistible kind ; and every investigation which has been made concerning heathen rites and traditions, has constantly added -' to its force, no less than to its extent." — Edin. Ency. Deluge. Without entering at great length into the evidence on this subject, which has been brought from the most distant heathen lands, it may perhaps be sufficient, here, to state generally, that allusion is made, more or less directly, to the flood of Noah, and to Noah himself, under various names, by the an cient Greek, Latin, Egyptian, Oriental, and Chinese authors. Lucian, a Greek author, and an avowed scoffer at all religions, gives a history of the deluge, and of Noah under the name of Deucalion, so minute and circumstantial, that it must certain ly have been taken from the ancient tradition of the same event which is described by Moses. The accounts of the flood of Deucalion of the ancient heathens, bear so strong a resemblance to the Mosaic narrative in some parts, that no one can doubt their being founded on traditions of the flood of Noah. Deucalion, the son of Prometheus, reigned over part of Thessaly. The impiety in the world had irritated Jupiter, who resolved to destroy mankind ; and immediately the earth exhibited a boundless scene of waters. The highest moun tains were climbed by the terrified inhabitants of the earth ; but these seeming places of security were soon overtopped by the rising waters, and no hope was left of escape from the universal calamity. Prometheus advised his son to make himself a ship; and by this means he saved himself and his wife 'Pyrrha. — As to the account of the flood given by Ovid, it ap pears nearly certain, from the order in which he describesthe creation, and from the facts connected with the deluge, as described by him, that he was acquainted with the sacred volume. The Septuagint translation had, at that period, been known for more than two centuries ; and being written in a lan guage with which all well-educated Romans were perfectly con versant, it is more than probable that the ideas of the heath en poet were directly derived from this source. — The accounts given by Plutarch, Plato, and Diodorus Siculus, show that the Egyptians believed in a universal deluge, and allude to Noah under the title of Osiris, but in the obscure and con- , fused manner to be expected in their heathen traditions. Sir William Jones, in his valuable researches into the works and traditions of the Hindoos, gives us the substance of their accounts of the deluge, which, though also full ofthe wild superstitions of the east, bear the strongest marks of the same origin. But the most extraordinary traditional evi dence of this event, comes from quarters where it could be least expected, and is consequently of the greater value, as it could not have been handed down by any other means than oral tradition, from one generation to another. Some of the inhabitants of Otaheite, on being asked by one of our cir cumnavigators concerning their origin, replied that their su preme God, having, a long time ago, been angry, dragged \ the earth through the sea, when their island was broken off, and preserved. In the island of Cuba they relate, that an old man, knowing that the deluge was approaching, built a ship, and went into it, with a great many animals ; that he sent out from the ship a crow, which did not immediately come back, staying to feed on the carcasses of dead animals, but afterwards ! returned with a green branch in his beak. From Peru, Bra zil, and Mexico, the traditions of the duluge are very dis tinctly marked with traces of the original from whence they must all have come ; and even among the Iroquois Indians of America, it is believed that a great lake overflowed its banks, and in a short time covered the whole earth, in consequence of the dogs of one of their spirits being lost in it, while hunting. It has frequently been asked by those who are incredulous on many points of scripture history, how it happened in an cient times, when navigation was little known, that the most distant islands, in the midst of the ocean, and the entire con tinent of America, so recently discovered by Europeans, be came inhabited, if it were true that all men perished except one family, who were landed in Asia. It is difficult to reason GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 69 with those who are sceptical on scriptural subjects, becausel such persons are too often unsettled in their belief of the omnipotence of a Creator. To such, therefore, it were almost useless to observe, that a being who could cause a deluge, and re-arrange a dry land, in the diversified, adn as it were, ac cidental forms we now find it, could, in ways apparently as accidental, spread abroad the human beings which were to people it. But to such persons, perhaps, the remarkable fact of the universal tradition of the deluge, from which only a few persons were saved, is more convincing than the most conclusive abstract reasoning : and the more especially when these traditions are found to exist even amongst those very isolated nations, the descent of which, from Noah, appeared so problematical. If we add to this tradition, the strong coin cidence in the languages of all nations, which we shall have occasion to remark upon in a subsequent chapter, the mind of that man must be of a singular character, which can retain a doubt of the truth of the inspired history on the subject of the deluge. There are, however, so many instances which may be produced, from the voyages of navigators, of sava ges in their canoes being drifted out to sea, and carried by winds or currents to great distances, that no reasonable ob jection can be raised to the spread of population, even in this accidental manner. Mr. Mariner, and Captain Dillon, in their accounts of the South Sea Islands, furnish us with ma ny instances of such accidents. "When we thus meet with some traditions of a deluge in almost every country, though the persons saved from it are said, in those various accounts, to have resided in districts widely separated from each other, we are constrained to admit, that so general a concurrence of belief could never have ori ginated merely by accident. While the mind is in this situa tion, scripture comes forward ; and presenting a narrative more simple, better concocted, and bearing an infinitely greater re semblance to authentic history than any of these mythological accounts, which occur in the traditions of Paganism, it im mediately flashes a conviction on the mind, that this must be the true history of those remarkable facts, which other nations have handed down to us only through the medium of alle7< gory and fable. By the evidence adduced from so many quarters, the moral certainty of the Mosaic history of the flood appears to be established on a basis sufficiently firm to bid defiance to the cavils of scepticism. Let the ingenuity of unbelief first account satisfactorily for this universal agree ment of the Pagan world, and she may then, with a greater degree of plausibility, impeach the truth of the Scripture narrative of the deluge." — Edin. Encyclop. Deluge. The moral certainty we thus attain of the Mosaic deluge it self, may be, with equal force, extended to the preservation of Noah, and those with him in the ark, as the only living beings preserved from this, otherwise universal, destruction; and thus, from every hand, maybe drawn additional eviden ces to confirm our confidence in the .unerring truth of the inspired writings. The Mosaic narrative of the deluge is as full and circum stantial as we could almost desire ; but, like many other most interesting points in Scripture, its very simplicity occasions our not giving it that attention which it so well merits ; and there is, perhaps, no subject on which the general ideas of mankind are so erroneous. The most common notion entertained of this catastrophe, is, that by some means, incomprehensible to us, the sea rose upon the dry land to the height of the highest mountains ; and after destroying every living thing, excepting those whom it pleased God to spare, the waters gradually retired to their hidden retreats, leaving the same dry land that had before been inhabited, though variously changed, in its actual sur face, by the wreck and ruin with which it remained charged. It would be difficult to say from what source this errone ous idea of the deluge has first arisen ; the mode by which this fatal event was brought about by the councils of the Al mighty, has not indeed been given us by the inspired historian ; but the clearness of the recital, together with the effects, which we now every where find to corroborate it, can leave no doubt in an unprejudiced mind, that the above mentioned common opinion is altogether false, and has given rise to many of the equally false doctrines and theories of the cha otic geology. In the Mosaic record we are told, "And God said unto Noah, the end of all flesh is come before me ; for the earth is filled with violence through them (mankind), and behold, I will destroy them, together with the earth."* * Genesis, vi. 13. Here we have it distinctly announced by the voice of the Almighty, that he was not only to destroy mankind from off the earth, which would have implied the earth remaining as at first, to become the habitation of a postdiluvian race : but they were to be destroyed together with the earth on which they dwelt. It is also afterwards declared by the Al mighty, in establishing a covenant with mankind. " And I will establish my covenant with you, neither shall all flesh be cut off any more by the waters of a flood ; neither shall there any more be a flood to destroy the earth."* Thelat- ter part of this sentence would have been altogether unneces sary, were we not given to understand by it, that the earth, or dry land, of the antediluvian world, had then been destroyed, as well as its wicked inhabitants. A very close critical inquiry has been instituted by Mr. Granville Penn, into the various translations of the original text on this part of Scripture ; and he proves, beyond dispute, that the original, in these passages, has never had any other interpretation, or translation, than that adopted in our English version; implying the destruction ofthe earth, as well as "of all flesh that moved upon it." This estimable writer has not confined his Scriptural inquiries to the Mosaic history alone ; but has most ably drawn from other inspired sources, what were the received opinions respecting the deluge, throughout the whole period of Jewish history, down to the times of the apostles. He brings forward that very remarkable passage, from the 2d Epistle of St. Peter, 3d chapter, 6 and 7 verses, " whereby the world, that then was, being overflowed with water, perished ; but the heaven, and the earth, which are now, by the same word (of God,) are kept in store, reserved for fire, against the day of judgment, and perdition of ungodly men."! Mr. Penn also quotes a passage from the Book of Job, in which the friend of Job, reasoning with him, says, " Hast though remarked the old way which wicked men have trodden ; who were cut down out of time ; whose foundation was overflowed with a flood ;" which passage the Greek inter preters render yet more decidedly, " their foundations are be come an overflowing flood" and Michaelis interprets it, A flood obliterated their foundations." In the very curious and interesting work, called the book of Enoch, referred to by St. Jude, v. 14, which had long been looked upon as lost, but which was at length discover ed in the Ethiopic language by Bruce, in Abyssinia, who brought home three manuscript copies of it, one of which was presented to the Royal Library at Paris, a second, to the Bodleian Library at Oxford, and the third, retained by him self; we find a very remarkable corroborative testimony to the above view of the subject of the deluge. In quoting, from this apocryphal book, it is not necessary, in this place, to en ter into the question of its actually being, what its title pro fesses it to be, a prophetic work of the antediluvian Enoch. This point has been clearly settled by Dr. Laurence, to whom we are indebted for an English translation of the copy in the Bodleian Library. But, although, in the opinion of the learned translator, this original Hebrew, or Chaldee work, was composed subsequent to the Babylonish captivity, it must be admitted to be a very interesting and curious piece of antiquity, though not worthy of a place among the canonical books of Scripture. The passage I am about to quote, however, will serve to show the prevailing opinion on the subject of the deluge in * Genesis, ix. 11. t This passage, from the inspired apostle, might, perhaps, be extended with much effect ; for he seems, in this part of his general epistle to the new Christian church, prophetically to describe some of the opinions now held by modern philosophy. "This second Epistle, beloved, I now write unto you; in both which (Epistles) I stir up your pure minds by way of remembrance : "That ye may be mindful of the words which were spoken be fore by the holy prophets, and of the commandment of us, the apostles of the Lord and Saviour : knowing this first, that there shall come, in the last days, scoffers, walking after their own lusts : " And saying, whereJs the promise of his coming ? For since the fathers fell asleep, aft things continue as they were from the be ginning of the creation. For this they willingly are ignorant of, that, by the word of God, the heavens were of old, and the earth stand ing out of the waters, and in the waters : "Whereby" (viz. by the word of God,) "the -world that then was, being overflowed with waters, perished. " But the heavens, and the earth, which now are, by the same word (of God) are kept in store, reserved unto fire, against the day of judgment, and perdition of ungodly men. " But, beloved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one day is, with the Lord, as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day." — Second Epistle of Peter, iii. 1, etc. This short passage contains lessons in philosophy, as well as in morality, which we should do well most seriously to consider. 70 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. the times of the author of it, and is quite consistent with the passage in St. Peter's Epistle, and with the above passage in the book of Job. In the 82d chapter of the book of Enoch, and the 5th verse, we find the writer prophetically describing the destruc tion of the " earth, that then was," in the following manner : " And falling to the earth, I saw likewise the earth absorbed by a great abyss, and mountains suspended over mountains, hills were sinking upon hills, lofty trees were gliding off from their trunks, and were in the act of being projected, and of SINKING INTO THE ABYSS. " Being alanned at these things, my voice faltered. I cried and said, the earth is destroyed ! Then, my grandfather, Malalel, raised me up, and said to me, Why dost thou thus cry out, my son 1 And wherefore dost thou thus lament? " I related to him the whole vision which I had seen. He said to me, confirmed is that which thou has seen, my son : "And potent the vision of thy dream respecting every se cret sin of the earth. Its substance shall sink into the abyss, and a great destruction take place. " Now, my son, rise up ; and beseech the Lord of Glory, (for thou are faithful,) that a remnant may be left upon the earth, and that he would not wholly destroy it. My son, all this calamity upon earth comes down from heaven, upon earth shall there be a great destruction." In another part of the book, purporting to be Noah's vision ofthe deluge, we find the following, to the same effect : " On account of their impiety have their innumerable judgments been consummated before me. Respecting the moons have they inquired, and they have known that the earth will perish, with those who dwelt upon it, and that to these there will be no place of refuge for ever." — Chap. lxiv. v. 9. These passages, from such authorities, decidedly show, that the destruction of " the earth that then was," formed a part of the effects of that awful judgment; and the phenomena presented to our view over the whole " earth that now is," establish the truth of the historical record in a manner the most conclusive. We have thus given us most important data on which to form a judgment of the mode by which this great event was brought about; but, as the mere laws of nature will be found utterly incompetent to it; andas the deluge was evidently an operation as completely preternatu ral, as either the creation itself, or the gathering together of the waters ofthe ocean, we must come to the same conclu sion with regard to it which we have already done with regard to these events, viz. that it was in the power of God alone to bring it about. Many disputes have arisen, and theories been formed, among philosophers, respecting the mode by which a deluge might have been brought about by natural causes; but, like the theories of first formations, they lead the mind, at every step, into obscurity and contradiction. Some have supposed the earth to be hollow, and to contain water, which, issuing out by some incomprehensible means, deluged the earth, and again retired to its hidden abode. Others have supposed that by a great earthquake, a heaving up of the superincum bent mass of one portion of the earth might have raised the waters ofthe ocean, so as to form one vast wave on the sur face, which swept over the remaining parts of the earth. In supporting this theory it is truly stated, that during partial earthquakes, an agitation ofthe sea, somewhat similar, takes place, the effects of which have often been most destructive in low countries. But this theory implies one sweeping con vulsion which could have lasted but a short time, and been but partial in its effects ; whereas, both history, supported by the traditions of the most obscure nations, and physical facts, tend to convince us that the deluge must have lasted some considerable time, and been universal in its destructive effects. As to the theory ofthe cavous nature ofthe globe, in order to contain water for the purpose of one particular deluge of a few months duration, we have, amongst other powerful ob jections, this especial one ; that such^an arrangement would be in contradiction to all the general laws of the Creator, in the study of which we perceive an economy of means, if I may use the expression, which is most remarkable. The means employed for any end are never greater than are abso lutely necessary to attain that end ; and thence the just balance which we so much admire throughout the creation. When the mandate was issued, on the third day of the creation, " Let the waters be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear," which "gathering together ofthe waters God called sea," we have not a vestige of ground for supposing that there was any superabundance in the primi tive creation of water; nor that any portion of it was, as it were, locked up from common use, and reserved for one especial occasion. Besides this objection of the reason, we have also one fact ; for when we come to measure the depths of the sea, and the quantity of water existing on our whole planet, by the great and only true scale before mentioned ;* and when we find its medium depths, all over the earth, not to exceed, comparatively, a thin coat of varnish on a common artificial globe ; we shall at once perceive how utterly un necessary it would be to demand so great a quantity of water as a hollow earth would contain, , for the sole purpose of ef fecting so diminutive an end.f No. The ends of the Al mighty are brought about by much more simple means; and when we are informed by the inspired record, that not only the inhabitants of the first " dry land," but also that " dry land" itself was to be destroyed, we can, without any strain upon our reason, and in perfect accordance with surrounding physical facts, imagine the same great Being by whose power the waters were at first gathered together, issuing his second mandate for the execution of this terrible decree, and saying, " Let the level of the dry land be lowered, and let the founda tions ofthe great deep be broken up : and it was so." But if we insist on discovering or inventing a mode by which the Almighty caused this destructive interchange of sea and land to take place, we shall find ourselves in the same inex tricable difficulties as when endeavouring to account for the mode of first formations by secondary causes. We must make our reason bend to the inscrutable ways of the Omnipotent, and submit, with whatever rebellious reluctance, to the great truth every where impressed upon ns, that " the ways of God are not as our ways, nor his thoughts as our thoughts." All our reasoning must end in this point, that the deluge, like the creation, was a preternatural event, which could by no means be brought about but by preternatural means; and con sequently, that we should in vain search for a cause in -the mere laws of nature. CHAPTER VII. Mosaic Account of the Deluge. — The Mountains of Ararat. — Origin of that remarkable Name. — Effects during the De luge. — Action of the Tides and the Currents during the De luge. — Their Effects upon Organic Bodies. — Diluvial Strata. — Abatement of the Waters. — Renewal of the Fade of the Earth. Having thus, by a variety of evidence, convinced ourselves that a universal deluge took place upon our earth, from which but one family of human beings was saved by the mercy of the Almighty;}: and that, in this deluge, not only the antedi luvian race, but the antediluvian earth or dry land on which they dwelt, was destroyed, we can be at no great distance from the truth, if we suppose, though it is no where stated in direct terms, that the deluge was effected by the inter change of level between the former sea and land ; or, in other words, that either the bed of the former sea was gradually elevated, or " broken up .-" or that the first land was gradually depressed beneath the level of the waters; or, perhaps, by a combination of both ,- in either of which cases, the effects would be exactly such as are described in the Mosaic record. Let us now consider this record itself. " And God looked upon the earth, and behold it was cor rupt; for all flesh had corrupted his way upon the earth. And God said unto Noah, The end of all flesh is come before me ; for the earth is filled with violence through them (men) ; and behold I will destroy them, with the earth." " Behold I, even I, do bring a flood of waters upon the earth, to destroy all flesh, wherein is the breath of life, from under heaven ; * Chapter i, page 57, note. + Would not a hollow glass globe, of one foot in diameter, con tain infinitely more water than would be necessary slightly to moisten its exterior surface ? ¦; The preservation of one family, at the deluge, may be looked upon as one ofthe most remarkable instances of divine wisdom and providence : for there could have been no greater difficulty to the Almighty power, in forming, in this instance, an entirely new crea tion, than in doing so in the beginning of the world. But if all mankind had perished, a new race could not have been so deenlv impressed with the terror of this great event, as we now find the most distant nations are : and if we had only historical evidence of its having happened, unsupported by tradition and facts, the recital would be found to make but a slight impression upon our minds GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 71 and every thing that is in the earth shall die." "And, in the six hundredth year of Noah's life, in the second month,' the seventeenth day of the month, the same day were all the fountains of the great deep broken up, and the windows of heaven were opened." "And it came to pass, after seven days,, that the waters of the flood were upon the earth." " And the same day were all the fountains of the great deep broken up, and the windows of heaven were opened." "And the rain was upon the earth forty days and forty nights." "And the waters prevailed, and were increased greatly upon the earth, and the ark went upon the face ofthe waters." " And all the high hills, that were under the whole heaven, were covered." "Fifteen cubits upwards (above the highest hills) did the waters prevail, and the mountains were covered." "And the waters prevailed upon the earth an hundred and fifty days." At length, " God made a wind to pass over the earth ; and the waters assuaged. The fountains also of the deep, and the windows of heaven were stopped, and the rain from heaven was restrained. And the waters returned from off the earth continually ; and after the end of the hundred and fifty days the waters were abated. And the ark rested in the seventh month, on the seventeenth day of the month, upon the mountains of Ararat. And the waters decreased- continually until the tenth month : in the tenth month, on the first day of the month, were the tops of the mountains seen. And it came to pass at the end of forty days, that Noah opened the window of the ark, which he had made. And he sent forth a raven, which went forth, to and fro, until the waters were dried up from off the earth. Also he sent forth a dove from him, to see if the waters were abated from off the face of the ground." But the dove found no rest for the sole of her foot, and she returned unto him into the ark ; for the waters were on the face of the whole earth : then he put forth his hand, and took her, and pulled her in unto him, into the ark. And he stayed yet other seven days, and again he sent forth the dove out of the ark ; and the dove came in to him in the evening ; and, lo, in her mouth was an olive leaf plucked off: so Noah knew that the waters were abated from off the earth ; and he staid yet other seven days, and sent forth the dove, which returned not again unto him any more." " And Noah removed the covering of the ark, and looked, and behold the face of the ground was dry. And in the second month, on the seven and twentieth day of the month, was the earth dried."* Thus the whole duration of this dreadful event was one year and ten days ; or from the seventeenth day of the second month of one year, until the twenty-seventh day of the second month of the next year. Now, in the whole of this narrative, we find no one cir cumstance to lead us to a supposition, that the same earth, or dry land, existed after the flood, as had been inhabited pre vious to that event ; or to contradict the united evidence of the declaration of the intention of God to destroy the earth, and of the physical facts with which we are now surrounded, on every part of the present dry land. An erroneous idea is, however, very general with respect to "the mountains of Ara rat" which are commonly considered as having been moun tains on the old earth, and known to Noah. There can be no one reason given from the narrative for this opinion, and there are many of the most decided character to lead us lo an opposite conclusion, f The inspired historian is describ ing to the Jewish nation, many years after the event, and when the continent of Asia had become perfectly well known, and thickly peopled, the circumstances of the destruction of the former world by means of the flood ; and he relates, that on the subsiding of the waters, the ark, with its inhabitants, grounded on one of the points of a ridge of mountains, which was, from henceforth, to be remarkable amongst the inhabit ants of the east, and to which those saved from the deluge gave the expressive name of Ararat, or the curse of tremb ling (which is the meaning of the Hebrew word), that the memory of the dreadful event from which they had just escaped might be handed down as long as the mountain was in being, on which they had been saved. We may also come to the same conclusion when we consider the improbability ofthe ark floating quietly for nearly a year on the surface of an ocean as much effected by winds and tides as our present seas, being stranded in the immediate neighbourhood of the place whence it is generally, but erroneously, supposed to have been first borne up by the waters : and, also, the equally improbable circumstance of any mountain of the old world bearing such a title as the curse of trembling, previous to any event likely to call forth so remarkable a name. We must not forget, besides, that even those who support the idea of our now inhabiting the antediluvian earth, admit that the effects of the deluge were such as would probably prevent the recognition by those in the ark, of any part of the former countries they had known, as the surface must have been every where loaded with diluvial soils of very great depth. All these reasons, taken collectively, and supporting the positive sentence of destruction passed upon " the earth that then was," leave no room to doubt as to the mode by which this sentence was put in execution. We may, therefore, conclude, that when the time was come, when this great revolution was to happen, the dry land began gradually and insensibly to sink, or the surface of the bed of the former ocean as gradually to rise ; the whole accompanied with such a convulsion of the elements, such torrents of rain, and, probably, such peals of thunder, as would be cal culated not only to make a lasting impression upon the minds of those who escaped ; but to render the punishment of those who suffered from this Curse of Trembling the most awful and heart-rending that the mind of man can conceive !* The living creatures upon the earth, of every kind, must then have been gradually swept from the elevations on which they would naturally seek safety : and at the end of forty days the whole globe became again overspread with the same thin coat of water,- from the effects of which it was " invisible" on the first and second days of the creation. " Jamque mare et tellus nullum discrimen habebat ; Omnia pontus erant ; deerant quoque littora ponto." For 150 days, or for about five months, this universal * " According to the account given by Moses, the ark was 300 cubits long, 50 broad and 30 high ; but the length of this cubit has given rise to much argument and conjecture. Some have supposed it to be nine feet, and others three ; but the opinions most worthy of notice are, 1st, Tliat of Bishop Cumberland, who considered the Hebrew cubit as about 22 inches, which would make the ark 550 feet long, 91 broad and 55 high. 2d, That of the learned Park hurst, who computes the cubit at something less tliat 18 inches, which makes the ark 450 feet long, 75 broad and 45 high. Even upon the smallest estimate of this cubic measure, the competency of the ark, for the purpose assigned to it, has been satisfactorily proved by different writers ; but, especially, by the ingenious Bishop Wil kins, who has established the point with a clearness and exactness almost amountingto demonstration, and rather found too much than too little room. Thus does this seeming difficulty, like many others connected with scripture history, the more closely it is investigated, furnish an evidence, instead of an objection, to the truth of revealed religion."— Earn. Encyclop. Ark. t Jerom places Mount Ararat towards the middle ot Armema.near the river Araxes, or Aras, about 280 miles north-east of Al Jndi, and 12 leagues south-east of Erivan. It is detached from the other mountains in its neighbourhood, and stands in the midst of a very extensive plain. It ia in the form of a sugar-loaf, and has two dis tinct summits, the largest of which is perpetually covered with snow, and may be seen at a great distance. It is not a little singular, that the description of Mount Parnassus, by Ovid, should bear so close a resemblance to this account of Ararat : " Mons ibi verticibus petit arduus astra duobus Nomine Parnassus, superatque cacumine nubes." The surface ofthe lower part is composed of loose sand, or large masses of free stone. Nothing is to be seen growing upon it but some juniper and goat's thorn. The whole mountain is described by travellers as having a gloomy and disagreeable aspect. — Tourne- fort, Tavernier, &c. * We may apply to this subject the sublime expressions of the In spired Psalmist, when alluding to the miraculous preservation of the children of Israel, pursued by the Egyptians ; and it is even probable, that he had also in view the very event we are now con templating. " The waters saw thee, O God, the waters saw thee ; they were afraid : the depths also were troubled. The clouds poured out water : the skies sent out a sound : thine arrows also went abroad. The voice of thy thunder was in lieaven : the lightenings lightened the world ; the earth trembled and shook. Thy way is in the sea, and thy path in the great waters, and thy footsteps are not known." — Psalm lxxvii. ... In the 104th Psalm, we find what may be considered a more di rect allusion to the creation, and to the period of the Deluge, in the following sublime passage. "Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be removed for ever. " Thou coveredst it with the deep, as with a garment : the waters stood above the mountains. "At Thy rebuke they fled ; at the voice of Thy thunders they hasted away. " They go up by the mountains ; they go down by the valleys unto the place which Thou hast founded for them. " Thou hast set a bound tliat they may not pass over ; that they turn not again to cover the earth." 72 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. aqueous covering remained nearly stationary ; and it is from this long continuance of the waters upon the earth, that we can account, in a satisfactory manner, for many of the strati fied appearances in the upper beds, which we had before remarked in the lower secondary formations. We feel quite assured, that though, by this great revolution, the face of all things upon the earth's surface was to become changed, yet the planet still retained its regular position and place in the solar system, and must, consequently, have continued to be affected, as it was at other times, by the influences of the sun and of the moon. The action of the tides and of the currents, which we have before considered, must now have had a most powerful influence both during the rise, the con tinuance, and the abatement of the waters. The surface of the all-prevailing ocean must now have been covered with the wreck and ruin ofthe animal and vegetable world, floated off in various directions, according to the currents, and the eddies, which must have every where prevailed. The soils of the old earth, loosened by the moisture, must now have become suspended in the turbid waters, and been deposited in the bed of the ocean as at other times, only in unusual quantity.* Dead bodies of every description, swelled up by corruption, must now have followed the courses of the cur rents, and floated or sunk, according to the state they hap pened to be in. Those of the larger animals more especially, would long continue floating on the waves, like strong blad ders filled with mephetic vapours, and be hurried far from their natural climates, to excite the wonder and speculation of succeeding generations. At length the waters are permitted to subside ; the full purpose of the Almighty has been accomplished. The earth and its inhabitants have been destroyed ; and the waters are again to be " gathered unto one place," to " let the dry land" once more " appear." What a scene now presents itself to the mind's eye ! for no human eye could look upon it ; even Noah himself could form no distinct idea of the state of the new earth, but by sending out one of his feathered family, who he knew would return to him, if " she found no rest for the sole of her foot." Week after week passed with those occasional experiments, long after the ark had been finally lodged upon the heights of Ararat. It is now left to our imagination to conceive effects which, though not described, must have naturally followed such powerful causes. As the waters gradually subsided into their new bed, the dry land, which was now to come for the first time into the light of day, must have presented a most singular appearance. We must keep in mind, that as the bed of the first ocean had become charged with the stratified debris of upwards of sixteen centuries, deposited upon it by the laws of gravita tion and of the currents, the surface of this bed, when raised «. above the new level of the waters, must have been soft, and still saturated with the moisture of the slowly retiring seas. As the waters became more and more shallow, they would act with the more violent effect upon the soft and muddy plains over which the tides, the currents, and the winds, must now have swept with irresistible force. As point after point upon the new and soft earth became liberated from their sway, the various floating bodies, whether animal or vege table, would be scattered on the surface, or deeply embedded in the yielding mud or sand by the violence of the waves. Other mixed masses of organic remains, brought into one place in an indiscriminate heap, by the eddies of the waters, would now be covered up by these new secondary formations, of mud, or gravel, which formations would be of very con siderable depth, .from the enormous quantities of materials thus furnished in a preternatural way. It is also highly probable that many submarine volcanic districts would now become exposed, and also that even volcanic action was not wanting to complete the terrors of this curse of trembling. In* whatever manner the Almighty thought fit to bring about this elevation of the bed of the antediluvian sea, it is to be supposed that the " breaking up" of the fountains, or foun dations, of the great deep must have occasioned that elevation and derangement in the horizontal stratifications of some of the secondary formations which we have hitherto speculated upon in darkness, and in error : and that we should conse quently find them, when fully exposed to our view, in a highly inclined, and sometimes even in a vertical posi tion.* - . , Let us imagine to ourselves the whole vegetable kingdom of the earth deposited at various depths,! and more or less covered up by the sandy or other sediments of the deluge. We look in vain to the most terrific catastrophes of our own times, to give us a faint idea of the scene which the earth must now have presented. Those who have witnessed the raging of a hurricane on the ocean, many leagues distant from any land, can perhaps best form a conception of this watery waste, unsheltered by any shore. The tossing of a tall ship, at the mercy of a raging sea, may best represent the manner in which the floating masses must have been precipitated on the yielding shoals. For " they that go down to the sea in ships, and do business in the great waters ; these see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep." At length it was permitted to the elements, by the Great Ruler of the storm, to resume their wonted order and regu larity. " Surgit humus, crescunt loca decrescentibus undis." The new bed of the ocean, when sunk to the necessary depth, was there arrested ; and means were thus afforded to the new dry land, of becoming gradually drained of its super abundant moisture. The order of the world was to be rein stated, and the command was given to Noah to quit the ark, and to lead out with him his family, and every living creature that had been with him in the ark, that they might " breed abundantly in the earth, and be fruitful and multiply upon the earth." " And God said, I will not again smite every living thing, as I have done ; but while the earth remain- eth, seed time and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night, shall not cease." It seems scarcely necessary here to raise a question as to how the new world became again replenished with verdure, and adorned with a renewal of all those riches which .the deluge must have so completely destroyed ; because all who are deeply impressed with the effects produced by the fiat of the Almighty, at the first creation, must be satisfied that, though no direct mention is made of a new creation of vege table substances after the deluge, it must have been both as necessary, and as easy an operation, as in the beginning, The vegetable world must have been completely obliterated at the deluge, even supposing that the old earth had merely suffered from a passing event : but when we find that the new earth which we now inhabit, appeared then, for the first time, in the light of the sun, and that it must have been composed of moist soils, on which no vegetable production had ever grown, we shall be forced to the conclusion which is most consistent with reason, in the absence of historical evidence ; and that is, that the creative power must have been again exercised upon this occasion. Nor shall we, indeed, find it necessary to stop at a new vegetable world ; for there are many reasons for extending this conclusion also to the animal world, though, probably, on a less extended scale, as we have the positive evidence both of tradition and of history, as to a great variety of animals having been saved in the ark, together with Noah and his family. It appears more than probable, however, that we ought to con sider the strong expression used in the record, " of every living thing of all flesh," in the same sense as we find it in various other parts of Scripture ; and, indeed, as such ex pressions aie often used in our own, and in other languages, * In a former note, referring to the lately published work of Mr. Lyell, (see page 65), we had occasion to observe the wonderful effects of rivers, in transporting materials for the formation of secondary strata in the bed of the sea. The account given in that note, of the mud of the Ganges, in its daily course, will serve to give us some faint idea of the turbid state of the whole ocean, at this eventful period : and the sediments deposited by this catastro phe, added to the secondary formations in the antediluvian sea, lormed in the space of 1G50 years, will produce a much more con sistent result than can possibly be extracted from the theories of geology, wiiich give an unlimited time to the age of the world. * All such derangements of the stratifications of the surface of the earth, must not, however, be attributed to this cause, for there can be no doubt, that in the upper strata occasioned by the deluge, and left by the waters in a very moist state, the derangements of their level must be accounted for in the very natural way of subsi dence in the course of dessication. + We are enabled to form some idea of the floating or sinking masses of matted vegetable productions, from the accounts given us of the floating islands of timber, in some of the American lakes : these are often several miles in length, and of very considerable breadth and depth, rising or falling with the' water, and covered with vegetation. In the deluge, when the soils of the forests be came saturated with moisture, the whole vegetable mass would naturally rise to the surface, bound together by the roots and branches, and be floated off by whatever current happened to pre vail in their immediate neighbourhood. GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 73 that is, not as literally meaning every created being over the whole globe, but merely a great number. Michaelis* remarks, "the Jews have well observed that the expression all, every, is not to be understood, on all occa sions, with the mathematical sense of all; because it is also used to signify many. Thus, in Isaiah xxiv. 10, were we Tt 'J*?6*7 h0USe is sh,3t UP'' Kimchi most ^ty observes, though he says every house, he only means many ; as it is said, all countries came into Egypt. And if we reflect upon our own native tongues, we shall find that we often use the term all for many, or most. We have also a remarkable example of this strong mode of speech in 1 Kings, xviii. 10, where Obadiah affirms thus forcibly and solemnly to Elijah : ' As the Lord thy God liveth, there is no nation or kingdom, whither my lord hath not sent to seek thee :' which affirma tion, though universal in its terms, was evidently not design ed to be universal in its signification; and innumerable instances of the same mode of speech occur in the Sacred Writings."f We have some reason to doubt, from the fossil remains of animals now discovered, which have not yet been found alive upon the present earth, whether every living creature was in cluded in this strong expression : and though, from the remark able circumstance of the similarity of all languages in certain cotnmom expressions, and in the universal tradition of the deluge found amongst the most distant and savage nations, we feel assured that the whole existing race of man on the whole earth, has sprung from Noah and his family ; we have no evidence to lead us to the same conclusion with respect to quadrupeds, or birds found in such isolated coun tries as New Holland, where the species so entirely differ from every kind known on other parts of the earth. With respect, also, to the lower classes of animated beings, includ ing reptiles, insects, and animalcula, to which latter there seems no bound in the creation, we feel inclined to believe that a new creative power was' exercised after the deluge ; and we may, in this instance, say with the inspired Psalm ist, " He took away their breath, and they died, and returned to their dust : He sent forth His Spirit, and they were ¦created, and He renewed the face ofthe earth." It may, perhaps, here be asked, What reason can be as signed for the slow and gradual course of this awful judg ment ; since, if the first formation of the bed of the sea were an instantaneous operation, the destruction of the earth by a deluge could, and probably would, be equally rapid. But various good and sufficient reasons may be given, for a gra dual, rather than an instantaneous, operation, in the case of the deluge. And, first, we must consider, that, by this me thod, the great moral impression which was intended to be made upon the family of Noah, and upon all succeeding gene rations, would be much more effectual, by the long continu ance of their terror, than if they had been stunned, and, as it were, thunderstruck, by a dreadful, but rapid calamity. Again, we must remember, that as the All- Wise Ruler of the Universe had ulterior views for the welfare of his human creatures, a gradual operation acting upon what was to be the new earth, would render it better fitted for a habitation for mankind, than if the bed of the sea, with its soft sedi ments, had, by one violent convulsive throe, been elevated above the surface, and thus left dry, in the most deranged and ruinous condition. Besides, any such sudden conyulsion must have caused so .violent an agitation, that the natural means of preservation prescribed to Noah, by the Almighty himself, must have been overpowered by the preternatural vortex into which the vessel would have been plunged. Thus, although we can in no way account for the deluge, but by supernatural agency, yet the command given to Noah to make use of so common a means of safety as a floating vessel, shows us that it was the intention of God to allow natural means, or the laws of nature, to take their course, after the first impulse had been given by his preternatural decree. -j: * Michaelis wa3 a celebrated German theologian and biblical critic, who died in 1791. The extensive knowledge which he had acquired in biblical philology, as well as in every department of learning connected with the study of the Scriptures, enabled him to form very accurate notions on the original institutions and lan- fuage of the Hebrews. He was professor of Hebrew, Arabic, and ynac, in the University of Gottingen, t Comp. Estim. ii. p. 214. $ The experience of every year ought to teach us caution in com ing to any determined conclusion with respect to extinct races of animals. A great portion of the earth still remains unexplored animal world, with the existence of which we were before unac quainted. * We shall have a future opportunity of remarking the difference of temperature between the Southern and Northern Polar regions, which difference may, probably, be accounted for by the great pre ponderance of land in the one, and of water in the other hemis- and every year mates us acquainted with some new thing in the phere. CHAPTER VIII. General View of the existing Surface. — Force of the Waves. — Principles of Stratification. — Cavous Limestone. — Gibraltar. — The Plains ofthe Earth.^-Of South America.— Of Africa. —Of Asia.— Of Europe.— Result of this View.— Chalk Ba sins. — That of Paris, a Guide to all similar Basins. — Salt Deposits. — Coal Formations. — Evidences of Coal being a Marine, and not a Lacustrine Formation. Thus have we followed, in as concise a manner as the subject will admit of, the traditions as well as the history of this awful event, both supported by the corroborative evi dence of numerous physical facts in all parts of the world: and we cannot doubt its having been the intention of the Almighty, that the memory of so signal a judgment should be for ever deeply imprinted on the human mind, even in the most distant and isolated corners of the earth. But we should not be doing justice to so interesting a subject, if we left it, without taking a general view of the present surface of the habitable globe, and further tracing, as we shall every where be able to do, the lasting monuments of it, so univer sally presented to our consideration. When we consider, then, the state of the earth, as it now is, we find it divided into sea and land ; but so unequally, that the ocean occupies about three-fifths of the whole sur face ; and if a meridian line be taken to divide the earth equally, we shall find the proportions of land and water, on the opposite sides, strikingly different : there being a great preponderance of water on the southern, and of land in the northern hemisphere.* On viewing, on the great scale, the general condition of this land, we find by far the greater portion of it but little elevated above the level of the ocean : so little, indeed, that it may be safely said that nine-tenths of the whole would be again submerged, either by a rise in the level of the waters of a very few hundred feet, or by- a depression of the land to a similar trifling extent. There is, perhaps, no portion of the whole extent of the plains of the earth, where the primi tive surface of the globe can be seen. Nor can it even be reached by mining, without a deep section of various second ary formations. Even the most elevated plains, and many mountains of very considerable height, are either entirely formed of, or heavily loaded with, strata of secondary rocks. It is, generally, only on the tops of the most elevated moun tain ridges, where the primitive formations of the earth are found in mass. But the lower portions of even the highest mountains, bear unequivocal marks of their having once formed the bed of the sea : and fossil sea shells have been found upon the Andes, at an elevation of 14,000 feet above the present level of the ocean. Whole ridges, however, of very * considerable height, are found to be entirely formed of these secondary formations ; and so full of fossil shells, that no doubt can be entertained of their present site having once formed the bottom of the sea. The ridge of the Jura mountains, to the south-west of the Alpine range of Switzerland, is one of the most remarkable and best known of these secondary formations. This ridge rises from 3 to 4000 feet above the level of the Swiss plain ; and its length is nearly one hundred leagues, being from eighteen to twenty in breadth. It is almost entirely composed of compact limestone, in strata which alternate with beds of clay and shelly marl ; and the stratification is so much inclined, that it presents a most interesting example and proof of a raising or depress ing power having been in force, subsequent to the nearly hori zontal stratification which must at all times take place from a deposition in water. There is, also, to be found on this secondary ridge a remarkable proof of a great mechanical power having been exerted, such as the deluge was perhaps alone capable of. Innumerable masses of primitive rock " are found scattered on the surface, even at a height of 2500 feet. These masses, so far detached from their parent rock on the Alpine summits, (and similar masses of granite are found on almost all the alluvial plains of Switzerland), have given rise to much difficulty, and various theories among II.— K 74 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. geologists, all which are rendered nugatory, by referring their present locality to the powers ofthe deluge, the extent of which no one can reasonably doubt, who has considered the instances of mechanical force constantly exhibited by the ocean when in a state of agitation. Some recent and remarkable instances of the great mechan ical force of the waves may be interesting, on a subject which has occasioned so much theoretical discussion amongst philosophers. In the Isle of Eshaness, in Shetland, which is exposed to the full fury of the western ocean, huge blocks of stone are removed far from their native beds, and hurried up an acclivity to an almost incredible distance. In 1802, a mass eight feet by seven, and five feet thick, was dislodged from its bed, and removed to a distance of about 90 feet. The bed from which another block had been removed, in 1818, was seventeen and a half feet by seven, and two and a half feet thick. This mass had been borne to some distance, and then shivered into many lesser, though still large, fragments, which were carried more than 120 feet further. A block nine feet by six and a half, and four feet thick, was carried up a slope a distance of 150 feet. A mass of rock, the average dimensions of which may be rated at twelve or thirteen feet square, and five feet thick, was first moved from its bed, to a distance of upwards of thirty feet, and has since been twice turned over. But the most extraordinary scene is in a breach of porphyry called the grind of the Navir, where the waves have forced a passage, separating huge stones from the rock, and forcing them to a distance of nearly 200 feet. These fragments are accumulated in immense heaps, like the pro duce of a quarry. In Lunna, several large detached rocks, called the stones of Stephouse, are found at some distance from the sea, having evi dently been transported by the waters, and are the transported stones of geologists. The largest is about 23 feet high, and 96 in circumference. Amongst the remarkable features of the mountain ridges of the earth, are the naked primitive summits of the highest peaks, which from their freedom from secondary formations, and other marks of the sea, we may, with much probability, suppose to have been in the form of islands in the antedilu vian ocean: and as all islands are but the summits of sub marine elevations, it is natural to expect to find the lower parts of these mountains, which must have long been cover ed with the sea, bearing the same marks of secondary and sedimentary formations, mixed with sea shells, that are found in the lower levels of the earth. As we descend from the higher grounds towards the plains, we are every where struck with the hills of various heights and forms, entirely composed of these secondary rocks, and often formed of nothing but rounded gravel, or dry sand, precisely in the state we now find these substances on our present sea-shores, and under the continued action of the waters.* One cannot but be sensibly struck with the close similarity, of these elevations, both in substance and in form, to those minor elevations, and valleys, formed by the present sea, in many parts of its shores. One can even trace, on a minute scale, in those recent beds of sand and gravel, the principles of stratification and arrangement which we remark in many of the great secondary formations, and in the great beds of up per alluvial rocks and soils : and as we have already had. oc casion to remark, those principles are founded on the laws of gravitation, and of fluids, by the combined action of which, the raw materials of secondary formations, when once indis criminately brought into the ocean by the rivers, in the man ner before described, are sifted and arranged; and the vari ous classes separately deposited, according to tbe action ofthe currents, and the eddies of the waters.f It is by the action of those laws alone, that we can account for the great beds of * The hills of Palestine are almost all formed of calcareous rocks, remarkable for their natural cavities. Those wonderful stones of which the temple of Jerusalem was built, were of this nature, abounding in fossil shells. The pyramids of Egypt are also built of a species of oolite, which is full of small fossil shells, which were once thought to be petrified lentils, and other seeds, left by the workmen employed on these stupendous fabrics. This is nearly as philosophical a way of accounting for them, as the idea of Vol taire, who thought the fossil fish found in Italy were the refuse thrown away by the Roman epicures. + We familiarly make use of these same laws, on many occa sions of every day occurrence. If we wish to separate any dry ar ticles in the form of a powder, but of irregular grain, we naturally shake it with a lateral motion, when the different sizes and w eights of the particles become arranged; the finer always being found at the bottom. Every sportsman must be familiar with this law of sand upon one part of a coast, all equal in grain, and perfect ly free from earthy particles : on another part of the same coast, and, perhaps, at no great distance, we find a similar extent of rolled gravel, almost entirely free from sand: on a third, a bed of the purest clay, perfectly free from both; and, perhaps, on a fourth, an immense accumulation of sea shells. If, then, we allow for the action of those laws in the depth of the ocean, only on a scale infinitely more enlarged, and proportioned to the extent, both of the material 'and the agent, we shall find a much more easy and rational means of account ing for the geological phenomena on the surface of the globe, than all the=wild theories yet formed by philosophy have been able to produce ; and having this high additional value,that instead of opposing both history and reason, we follow the well defined track of both. The most common source of error in forming our ideas on the formation of secondary rocks and soils, is our measuring the works performed by the unceasing action of the laws of na ture, by the small and contracted scale of our own actions. Thus we almost instantly conclude, on observing a calcareous formation some hundreds of feet in depth, that it must have required some prodigiously long period of time to accumulate such a mass ; whereas, when we consider the action of one great river, such as the Amazon, or the St. Lawrence, (re markable, as all the American rivers are, for its muddiness, and tinging the ocean for 60 or 70 leagues from its mouth,) for a hundred years, and bearing, night and day, its prodigious load of mud into the sea, from whence it never returns ; we must perceive that our ideas on such subjects are, in general, much too confined, and stand greatly in need of revision and correction. It is not yet ascertained to what depth it may be necessary to probe, before we come to the primitive surface; but it is highly probable, if not certain, that if we allow a mean thickness of one mile, for the whole secondary formations of our present dry lands, we shall be considerably over-rating their actual extent. We know that the most lofty peaks are not more than five miles in height, and we have good rea son to presume, that the greatest depths of the ocean are not widely different in extent. Now, in the four thousand years _ that have taken place since the deluge, during which a fresS* series of secondary formations has been going on in the postr diluvian ocean, we must conclude that a much greater change has taken place than could have occurred in the sixteen centuries previous to that event ; and yet we cannot discover changes to have taken place either on the lands, or in any part of the ocean, to lead us to the conclusion that formations to such an extent have occurred, even during this longer pe riod. How then can we subscribe to those theories of phi losophy, which attribute immense periods to the formation of each stratum, and which would imply, from a view of a few hundred feet of diluvial stratification, in such a chalk basin as that of Paris, a succession of revolutions, and of salt and fresh water deluges, occurring during an unnameable lapse of time'! Amongst the remarkable secondary formations of our Eu ropean continents, there are few more worthy of our attention than the celebrated rock of Gibraltar, in which we find pre sented to our consideration a close connexion between diluvi al animal remains, and the extensive fissures and cavities with which that rock has become intersected. This mountain is completely isolated ; having the sea on three sides, and, on the fourth, a low sandy plain or isthmus, of several miles in length, and about 900 yards in width near the rock, though its breadth increases towards the Spanish continent ; whilst its greatest elevation, above the level of the sea, is not more than about ten feet. The rock of Gibraltar is of an oblong form, and lies in the direction of north and south. The craggy ridge of which its summit is formed, is somewhat higher at the two extremities than in the centre. The whole rock is about seven miles in circumference, and forms a promontory of about three miles in length. Its breadth varies according to the indentations of the shore, but it no where exceeds three quarters of a mile. The most elevated point of this promontory towards the south, is called the Sugar Loaf, and is about 1440 feet above the sea ; that towards the north is called the Rock Mortar, and is 1350 feet high ; the signal house, which is nearly in the centre, is 1280 feet above the level ofthe sea. The mountain of Gibraltar consists of a reddish grey cal careous rock, in regular strata, which may be examined with gravity, as it is well demonstrated in the accidental mixtures of both powder and shot of different grains, wiiich it is often necessary to separate. GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. great accuracy in the north front, where there is a complete section of upwards of 1300 feet of perpendicular height, "•'hie strata are from 20 to 50 feet in thickness ; and the whole mass is cavernous, presenting some of the most remarkable caves, adorned with magnificent stalactites. I have been favoured with the perusal of a MS. account of the celebrated cave of St. Michael, in the rock of Gibraltar; and with the kind permission of its author, I cannot hesitate in presenting ifcto my readers, as it will serve to give a very just idea of the numerous similar instances of lime-stone caverns, which are to be found in so many other parts ofthe world. The following extract is from a MS. journal kept by Cap tain Martin, while in the command of the late sir William Curtis' yacht, the Emma, on a pleasure cruise to the Medi terranean, in 1823 and 1824.* "Having determined to explore St. Michael's cavern, I took ashore part ofthe crew, with a supply of signal lanterns, lines, Roman candles and blue lights : and Captain Paterson, an officer ofthe garrison, who had before made the excursion, joined our party, and was a great acquisition. We landed at the dock-yard, and immediately commenced our march to wards the summit ofthe mountain. In about three-quarters of an hour we reached the stone platform in front of the cavern, which forms an esplanade for artillery. " From this platform we overlooked the extraordinary line of fortifications, together with the villas and gardens, the town, the parade, the mole, the shipping at anchor in the bay, the city of Algesiraz, La Roche, and the distant moun tains, the Ape's hill on the coast of Barbary, and the whole line of the two bold shores forming the straits, along to Ceuta : these objects, together with the deep blue pass, studded with white sails, completed the bird's-eye view, and formed one of the most splendid pictures that can possi bly be imagined. " We now commenced our descent into the cavern ; and having proceeded about a hundred yards we halted to look about us. The roof of this apartment is supported in the •midst of a stupendous pillar of stalactite irregularly fluted. - The water, clear as crystal, but loaded with calcareous mat ter, was seen dropping from various parts, and exhibited the manner of this continual, but gradual formation, as, wherever it fell, a round knob of stony matter was upon the increase, instead ofthe hollow which would have been produced, had the rock from which \} falls, been of the sand stone formation. "The rays of light from the cavern's mouth, fall on a number of broken crags, and detached parts of pillars, plainly indicating their having experienced some severe shock as of an earthquake, as the points from which they have been shat tered are distinctly visible. " We now followed Captain Paterson into the second cavern, which was larger than the one just described ;. and I here lighted a Roman candle, which brought into view two most beautiful arches, the columns of which much resembled the pipes of an organ. Through the termination of one of these arches an aperture presented itself; and having made fast the end of a line, and left one of the crew at the entrance, we proceeded on our hands and knees, extending our line as a clue to our return. We thus crawled along a very considera ble distance, till we found ourselves once more in an open space, but in darkness so thick that the rays of our lantern extended but a very short way, and above our heads was a void of indefinite extent. As we now stood in a groupe afraid of venturing further, or of being precipitated into some horrible abyss, I suddenly lighted one of our blue lights, when the whole dome of this magnificent cavern burst at once upon our sight, tinged with the sulphureous hue of the brilliant flambeau I held in my hand. Pillar upon pillar, supporting mimic galleries, arch upon arch rising in Gothic elegance, seemed as if the sudden work of a magic spell, and sparkling with crystal and stalactite far beyond our reach." (Simulaverat artem Ingenio naturo suo : nam pumice vivo Et levibus tophis nativum duxerat arcum.) "A few feet from us was a well-like aperture, which Cap tain Paterson now invited me to descend by the aid of a rope ; but this I thought it prudent to decline, satisfied with the magnificent scene before me. That gentleman had, however, formerly explored this cavity; and he described it as being about 50 feet deep, and terminating in a range of caverns * Should the author of this interesting MS. ever be induced to offer it to the public, it will exhibit the workings of a poetic mind and a graphic pen, such as have seldom appeared in our naval annals. 75 similar to the one in which we then, stood ; and beyond these were other descents which never yet have been explored. " We now retraced our steps, highly gratified with what we had seen ; and as we emerged once more into the light of day, our agreeable sensations were much increased by the exhilarating contrast. Upon looking upwards towards the summit of the rock, I perceived the smoke which our flam beaux had occasioned, issuing out from among the shrubs ; and being led by curiosity to climb up to the spot, we found a fissure in the rock, which, no doubt, communicated with those remarkable labyrinths, and through which aperture the currents of air were now clearing away, the smoke produced by our lights. " What a wonderful natural monument of former events is this extraordinary rock ! A pyramid of huge stony strata completely honey-combed with caverns of this description. Its inaccessible and perpendicular face to the eastward, com monly called its Levant side, is perforated with innumerable fissures, opening, no doubt, into its interior recesses, and forming the habitation of swarms of apes and sea-fowl ; while to the northward it is completely isolated from the main land by a long extent of sand, called the neutral ground. " The view which we also had of this remarkable rock from the sea, was in the highest degree imposing. The swell of the waves rolling against its base, and rushing into its dark caverns, produced a melancholy sound ; and I amused myself as we passed close in shore, in prying with my telescope into the mouths of these gaping chasms, within which I should suppose a boat could seldom enter, as the restless waters are agitated by the slightest breeze." From the consideration of the mountains and the hills, in both of which we find strong corroborative evidence in sup port of what has been advanced, we now descend to the plains of the earth ; and we there find, as might naturally be ex pected, so many additional traces of a former ocean, that every shadow of doubt ought to be removed from an unpre judiced mind. We have before remarked, that by far the greater proportion of the present dry land consists of plains but little- elevated above the present level of the sea. We find no exception, in this particular, in any of the continents into which geographers have divided the earth ; but in order to form a better idea of this part of our subject, we may refer to the descriptions given us by some of the most enlightened travellers of those seas of land, as they have sometimes been called. Humboldt has given us, in his valuable book of travels, so interesting an account of the great plains of South America, that I shall here lay it before my readers : " In the Mesa de Paja," says he, " in the ninth degree of south latitude, we entered the basin of Llanos. The sun was almost at the zenith ; the earth, wherever it appeared, was. sterile and destitute of vegetation. Not a breath of air was" felt at the height we sat upon our mules ; yet, in the midst of this apparent calm, whirls of dust incessantly arose, driven on by the small currents of air that glide only over the surface ofthe ground, and are occasioned by difference of temperature, which the naked sands and the spots covered with herbs, ac quire. These sand winds augment the suffocatipg heat of the air ; every-grain of quartz, hotter than the surrounding air, radi ating heat in every direction. All around us the plains seemed to ascend towards the sky, and that vast and profound solitude appeared to our eyes like an ocean covered with sea weeds. Through a dry fog, and the strata of vapours, palm-trees were seen from afar, the stems of which, stripped of their foliage, but with verdant tops, appeared like masts of ships discovered in the horizon. " There is something awful, but sad and gloomy, in the uniform aspect of these steppes. I know not whether the first aspect of them excites less astonishment than that of the chain of the Andes itself. " Mountainous 'countries, of whatever variety of height, have always an analogous physiognomy; but we accustom ourselves, with difficulty, to the view of the Llanos of Vene zuela and Casanary, and to that ofthe Pampas of Buenos Ayres and of Chaco, which recall to the mind incessantly, and dur ing journeys of twenty or thirty days successively, the smooth surface of the ocean. I had seen the plains or Llanos of La Mancha, in Spain, and the heath lands that extend from tbe extremity of Jutland, through Luneburg and Westphalia to Belgium. These last are real steppes, of which man, during many ages, has been able to subject only small portions to cultivation. But the immense plains of South America are but feebly represented by those of the north and west of Europe. 76 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. " The course ofthe rivers in these vast plains, all branches of the Oroonoko, had once led me to think that they formed table lands, raised at least 100 or 150 fathoms above the level of the ocean. I supposed, in like manner, that the deserts of interior Africa were also at a considerable height, and that they arose one above another, like stages, from the coast to the interior of the continent. With regard to the Llanos of South America, however, I found, by barometical measure ments at various points, that their height is only from 40 to 50 fathoms above the level of the sea. The fall of the rivers is so gentle, that it i3 often imperceptible; so that the smallest swell of the Oroonoko causes a reflux in those rivers of the plains which run into it. "The chief characteristic of the savanahs, or steppes of South America, is the absolute want of hills and inequalities, and the perfect level of every part of the soil. This resem blance to the surface of the ocean strikes the imagination most powerfully, where the plains are altogether destitute of palm trees, and where the mountains ofthe shore and ofthe Oroo noko, are so far distant that they cannot he seen. This equality of the surface reigns, without interruption, from the mouths of the Oroonoko to Ospinos, under a parallel of 180 leagues in length (540 miles), and from San Carlos to the savanahs of Caqueta, on a meridian of 200 leagues, or 600 miles. The planters who inhabit the southern declivity of the chain of the coast, look down upon the steppes, which extend towards the south as far as the eye can reach, like an ocean of verdure. They know that they can traverse the plains for 380 leagues, (or for 1140. miles), to the very foot of the Andes of Pasto !" The generally low level of North America is scarcely less remarkable than that of the South ; but that country is so much more broken and irregular in the line of its sea coast, and so much indented by gulfs and inland lakes, that the plains are no where of such vast extent. However, the generally level state of that country is shown by the naviga ble rivers with which it is every where intersected, and from which the greatest riches of North America are derived. In the extensive low plains of Carolina, marks of the for mer occupation of the sea are every where displayed. Ex tensive beds of oystershells are found at considerable depths, alternating with strata of blue clay ; and the bones of mon strous animals are often discovered in cutting canals ; these are the remains of the mastodon, and the mammoth, found in so many other parts of the world in similar situations. From the new world we turn our eyes to the deserts and sands of Africa, of an extent and character not less remarka ble. They have been described by Bruce, Park, and other travellers. Pure sea sand is there the prevailing soil, (if it deserve the name :) and though their elevation, above the sea, has not been so accurately measured as those of Europe, or of Asia, we may yet judge, from the currents of the Nile, and other rivers of Africa, flowing from the interior, that that continent is not, generally, of greater elevation than that of America, being crossed, however, by ridges, of very consid erable height, in various directions. M. Caillie, the enterprising French traveller, who, in 1824 and 1825, succeeded in penetrating to Timbuctoo, and was the first European who has ever returned to give us a distinct idea of that mysterious city, has thus described the desert of Sahara, which description will be found intimately connected with our present subject. . "A boundless horizon," says he, "expands before me; and we can distinguish but an enormous plain of shining sand, and over it, a burning sun. We come occasionally to deep, wells, full of brackish water. At a depth of four feet from the surface is found a gray sand, mixed with a little clay of the same colour. At the bottom of these wells there is often found a white kind of earth, resembling chalk, and mixed, oc casionally, with some black or gray rounded pebbles. , As far as the eye can reach there is no trace of vegetation ; for hours in succession we did not see one blade of grass. The plains" had the precise appearance of the ocean ; perhaps, such as the bed of the sea would have, if left dry by the waters. In fact, the wiuds form in the sand undulating furrows, like the waves of the sea', when a breeze slightly ruffles its surface. " At the sight of this dismal spectacle, of this dreadful and awful abandonment and nakedness, I forgot, for a moment, all my hardships, to reflect upon the violent convulsions which appeared to have dried up part of the ocean, and upon the catastrophes which have thus changed the face of our globe." This traveller states, that the trade of Timbuctoo, and, in great part, of all the interior of Africa, consists of salt, from the mines of Tondeyni, and of Waden. In Asia, we are equally struck with the great plains of China and Hindostan, which are of immense extent; but, from their richer soils, they constitute, in point of fertility, the most productive portion of the habitable globe. Some parts even of these, however, being composed of sand, or of indurated clay, are also completely barren : and the plains of the Cambul territory, extending four hundred miles in length, are of this desert description. The great salt desert of Per sia stretches over an extent of about 500 miles, and is corn- posed of a reddish sand, so fine as scarcely to be perceptible, and producing nothing but a few saline and succulent plants. Arabia contains deserts of not less extent, composed of barren sands impregnated with sea salt, and totally destitute of rivers.* The very low level of these deserts, would cause them to be again inundated by the sea, by a very slight rise in its waters. The sub-soil, like that of most deserts, is a grayish clay, with a large proportion of sand, and containing marine exuvim. We find the following descriptions of the plains of Meso potamia, in Buckingham's travels in that country. "The as pect of the country was dull and uninteresting; as there was neither mountain, valley, nor even plain: the whole being an unequal surface, like the high and long waves of a deep sea, when subsiding from a tempest into a calm : not a tree was any where in sight to relieve the monotony of the scene." The description of these plains by Xenophon, in his Anabasis, 2200 years ago, is strikingly correct. " The country," says he, " was a plain throughout, as even as the sea, and full of worm-wood : if any other kind of shrubs or reeds grew there, they had all an aromatic smell : but no trees appeared. Of wild creatures, the most numerous were wild asses, and not a few ostriches, besides bustards and roe-deer (or antelopes) which our horsemen sometimes chased."-)- Mr. Buckingham, in another place, proceeds : " The peo ple here have a particular and characteristic name for the.des- ert, similar to that which we use for the wide expanse of the ocean, when we call it the open sea. In these extensive plains, minute objects are seen at quite as great a distance as on the ocean; and the smallest eminences are dis- . covered by degrees, just as islands and capes are at sea, first-, showing their tops, and then raising them gradually above tbe horizon, till their bases appear on a level with the observer. The bearings and distances of wells are noted and remember ed from such objects ; and they are seen by caravans, slowly crossing the great desert, for many da^s in succession, as they approach to, or recede from them.":): — Buckingham's Travels, vol. i, p. 237. In Europe, the most extensive plains are in Hungary, be tween the Danube and the Theiss. These plains have been computed by Humboldt to^be about 3000 squarel eagues ,- and the line of division constituting the ridge between these two rivers, has been ascertained by accurate survey to be only 13 toises (or 78 feet) above the level ofthe Danube. Thus, it is plain, that a rise of from 200 to 300 feet in the waters of the Mediterranean, would overflow all the steppes of Russia, and connect that sea with the Baltic. The extensive penin sula of the Crimea, is in great part occupied by a vast undu lating plain, or steppe, without wood, and mostly composed of sand, more or less mixed with clay. This plain abounds in salt lakes and marshes, from which salt is obtained during the dry season, for the supply of a great extent of country, and all the shores of the Euxine. Petrifactions, and marine exuviae, are every where found in great abundance. The salt mines of Armenia have also long been celebrated. * The camel is emphatically called by the Arabians the Ship ofthe Desert. tin considering the diluvial nature of this portion of the world, ¦ in which the Paradise of our first parents is described to have been, it must be obvious to every one, that no such local descriptions of Paradise, as is found in our translations of the Book of Genesis, can consist with the total destruction of the antediluvian earth, and with our now inhabiting the bed of the antediluvian sea. That the discussion of this question may not now interrupt the general line of our subject, in this place, it may be satisfactory to the reader to know, that so great an inconsistency is not left unexplained, hut that the 14th Chapter is entirely occupied by it. ¦:" Travelling in Mesopotamia seems, even in the earliest ages of which we have any records, to have been little less dangerous than at present. Josephus, in his Jewish Antiquities, in relating that part of the history of Abraham, when he sent his chief servant from Canaan to Haran, to betroth a wife for his son Isaac, says : ' it was a consid erable time before tbe servant got thither ; for it requires much time to pass through Mesopotamia, where it is tedious travelling in winter, from the depth of the clay, and in summer, from the want of water ; and, besides, it is dangerous, on account ofthe robberies there committed, which are not to be avoided by travellers, except I by caution before-hand.' " GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 77 If we turn, our view nearer to our own shores, and contem plate the level plains of rich cultivation occupying almost the whole of Russia, Poland, Germany, France,* and Holland, we shall be satisfied ofthe correctness of the statement with which we set out ; that the appearances which present then** selves on the plains of every quarter of the globe, prove be yond a doubt,. that they have, at no very distant period, form ed a part of the bed of the ocean ; and that a change of a very few hundred feet, in the comparative level of the present sea and land, would once more destroy by far the greater propor tion of the habitable parts of the globe. We are not, how ever, from hence to imply that the mode by which the deluge was effected, was less the agency of a supernatural power. We are only to guard ourselves against the ideas of some the orists, who, in treating of this great revolution, lose sight of the comparative extent of the whole globe, and of its aqueous covering ,- and who think it necessary to break up the solid sphere of 8000 miles in diameter, in order to produce the means of immersing a few thousand feet of its surface. We shall find, that the more we study geology and min eralogy, on an enlarged scale, and under the impression ofthe historical view, which informs us not only that the old earth was to dissappear, but that it actually did become overwhelmed by a flood of waters, and that we are consequently now inhabit ing a new earth, the very nature of which assures us, without the evidence of history, that it formerly was the bed of the ocean ; the more easily we shall be enabled to account, in a natural manner, for the secondary formations and effects, now every where presented to our view. When we have once ad mitted that the primitive rocks were created without any con nexion or assistance from the sea, of which they bear no marks ; that the depression for the " gathering together of the waters" must naturally have given rise to the earliest second ary formations, in which no fossil remains are found ; that in the course of upwards of sixteen centuries, many strata of a sandy and calcareous nature must naturally have been form ed, with which the entire bed of the antediluvian ocean must have been encased ; and forming heights and hollows of an easy and rounded form, as at the present day ; and that at,this t particular period of the world, an interchange was to take "place, between the level of the old sea, and of the old land, by which preternatural operation, ordained for an especial purpose by the great ruler of the universe, these secondary heights and hollows were to become visible ; from the mo ment we take this view of the "subject, every thing on the earth becomes consistent, which was before confused, and in darkness : we can trace in our minds, the whole operation of mineral secondary formations, although we cannot be expect ed, always, to account for the various characters impressed upon different rocks, in the course of passing under the in fluence of the chemical processes of nature. When we thus acknowledge the period and the mode of the deluge, we have only then to discover, in our present rocks, what the particu lar formations were, which formed the actual bed of the sea, at that destructive period. When we have been enabled to do this, as we often can do most distinctly, (as, for instance, in the chalk basins of geologists,) we may be satisfied, that every thing we find above them, is the result of the action of the deluge, in the slow and gradual progress of which, during one whole year, the sea would continue to arrange and deposit the substances of every kind submitted to its action, in the same manner as at other times, only to a prodigiously greater extent, from the preternatural supply of the whole moveable soils and productions of the antediluvian continents.! Nor must we permit our minds to be misled by the depth and ex tent to which these diluvial formations are frequently found. For though in our low lands we often cannot penetrate the to tal depth to which they extend ; yet we must keep in mind, on the other hand, that, on our higher grounds, the rocks, in numberless instances, present at once the secondary forma tions which formed the bed of the sea at the deluge : and, consequently, that the whole moveable soils of the old world, are accumulated deeply in the hollows, or spread more thinly over theplains of the new. As afamiliar instance of this ar rangement, we may take the chalk formation of the south of * The enormous collections of sea shells that exist in France, in Touraine, and at Grigtion, have always attracted much attention. In the former instance there are said to be about nine square leagues, with a depth of about 18 feet, the whole consisting, almost entirely, of fossil shells. It is also said, that at Grignon, upwards of 600 spe cies have been discovered. . + " The bones of quadrupeds, already mentioned, are never tound in the strata below the chalk, but always in the clay over the chalk. — Edin. Encyclop. England, 713. our own country, and of the north of France, which broad ex tent of country, though now intersected by the channel, is ob viously one great continuous secondary formation of the ante diluvian sea, presenting a rounded"*and varied outline, with out any naturally abrupt form. Let us then consider this great extent of chalk, (which, in France alone, is calculated at 16 millions of acres,) at the period ofthe deluge, when, as has been above explained, the interchange of level was to take place, either by the depres sion of the old lands, the elevation of the foundations of the old seas, or, perhaps, by the action of both these' effects. This chalky accumulation of many centuries, continued below the surface during the early period of the deluge, the waters of which, turbid as they naturally must have been, deposited more or less of the new soils, over every part of it, both high and low, but, probably, to a greater depth in the hollows ; the finer particles sunk, as usual, to the bottom ; the grosser were moved about by the currents on the upper parts of these new formations, as they were deposited ; the depression of the old continents gradually continued ; until we at length arrive at a period of this interchange, when the tops of the round heights, in the chalk formation, came gradually to the surface of the waters, and were washed over by the waves. The operation proceeds ; they gradually become more and more elevated above the level of the waters, which, as they sink, wash off any of the new soils which might have been de posited on the heights, and carry them again into the gulfs, to undergo a fresh deposit in a lower level. The tops and sides of the chalky elevations were then left nearly bare, as vie now find them ,- while the whole moveable matter of the diluvial waters became deposited in the basins or hollows. In tracing the sections of the chalk, which are visible on the sea coasts, we often discover such hollows similarly filled up ;* and we can have no reasonable doubt, that the extensive districts now contained in the well-known basins of Paris, London, and the Isle of Wight, &c, are precisely of the same character, and owe their formation, and their richness of soil, to the very same cause and period. If any further proof of this were required, we should find it in the fossil remains of quadrupeds, birds, fish, plants, and shells, found in the lower strata of the Paris basin ; similar, in many instances, to those found in the upper soils of the earth, which latter are unanimously admitted to have been lodged there by the diluvial waters. f A section of this basin, (which has become more remark able than numberless similar basins, merely from its situation near Paris, and its having been so minutely scanned by the distinguished Cuvier, whose theories, erroneous as they are, have been founded upon the phenomena there displayed), presents a numerous succession of distinct strata of sand, sand-stone, clay of many sorts and colours, marl, lime-stone, gypsum, burr-stone, and alluvial earths. In all these we * There is an interesting section of a somewhat similar basin, pre sented to our view, on our own shores. On the coast of Kent, the chalk cliffs of the Isle of Thanet dip beneath the diluvial deposits about half a mile west from Pegwell, and they do not appear again upon the coast till a little way beyond Deal, in the neighbourhood of Walmer Castle. The borough of Sandwich stands in the centre of this diluvial section of a basin ; and a branch of it, of a long, narrow form, divides the Isle of Thanet from the main land, and connects the diluvial formations of Sandwich with the Isle" of Sheppey and the bed of the Thames, where bones of elephants, and other tropical productions, are constantly found in such abundance. The wells sunk at Sandwich, and in other parts of this plain, to the 'depth of from 50 to 130 feet, indicate many of the same species of diluvial strata to be found in London and at Paris. Blue clay, sand stone of various kinds, and many fossils, in the -strata of clay and marl, in dicate a succession very similar to that found in all such situations. Nor can we examine any great length of coast where the chalk is the prevailing formation, without observing, in the section presented to our view, numerous smaller instances of hollows or valleys on the old surface of the chalk, which have been filled up with soil, or strata of sand and gravel ; all of which are to be attributed to the same diluvial action on a small scale. Severalsuch small basins may be seen between Ramsgatc and Kingsgate in the Isle of Thanet, and also at the village of Pegwell. f " We shall conclude our account of this basin (of Paris) with an enumeration of some of the most remarkable organic remains which have been found in its various strata. Skeletons of unknown birds, elephant's bones, fish, and fish skeletons ; leaves and parts of vegetables changed into silex : large trunks of palm trees converted into silex : skeletons of various quadrupeds : tortoise bones : bitu minous wood ; and nearly throughout all the various formations, oyster shells." — Edin. Encyclop. France, p. 686. The above enumeration is surely sufficient, of itself, to demon strate the deposition of so extraordinary a mixture of land and sea productions at one and the same period, and by the action of ono and the same agent. 78 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. find no formation of the same exact character, as the older sand-stone formations, or chalk, or other calcareous gradual deposits, which formed the bed of the antediluvian sea. Cuvier remarks, that the quantity of bones embedded in the gypseous strata of Paris, is such as to be scarcely credi ble. In some parts of these strata there is scarcely a block that does not inclose a bone ; and millions must have been destroyed, in the course of the old excavations, before these objects began to attract attention. The depth of the entire basin has never been ascertained, but it is calculated at about 500 feet. Of the numerous species of fossils found in these various strata, we need only enumerate a few of the most remark able, and coming from the most opposite latitudes, to show that this, and other such hollows, became the general de posits of every sort of diluvial debris, arranged, however,. according to the mode universally prevalent, within the influ ence of the waters of the ocean. We find, then, a vast num ber of marine fossil shells, of which oysters form a prominent part. Some other shells, found in a formation where vege table fossils also were, have been called fresh water shells ; and thus, the two together, have given rise to one part of Cuvier's theory of fresh water deposits.* There can be no thing surprising in finding fresh water shells, even if well ascertained to be such, in an accumulation of so varied a character; but their presence alone cannot support tbe extra ordinary ideas of the above distinguished individual : and, besides, it is admitted, that the exact character of such shells is by no means clear. We find, amongst many vege table fossils, the stems of palm trees in a petrified state. Of large quadrupeds, birds, and fish, there are many most interesting specimens found in the gypsum formation ; and, also, the bones of elephants, tortoises, crocodiles, and other tropical animals, similar in character, and in species, to many of those fossils found in lime-stone rocks in England, and elsewhere; and in the basin of London. "| We can, thus, have no hesitation in attributing similar effects to similar causes' all over the world : and if it may be safely laid down as a general principle in geology, that no remains of terrestrial animals or vegetables are to be found in formations previous to the Mosaic deluge, it must natu rally follow, that all formations in which such fossils are now found, are of diluvial origin. We are, of course, to distinguish between such formations, and the animal and vegetable Temains found so abundantly in the more partial deposits of marshes or lakes, which have taken place in the common course of things, and are now going on under our eyes. * "Those terrestrial organic remains which may be considered as properly terrene, jure presumed to be so, from their natures, and not from their situations ; as they are found embedded in strata of aquatic origin, as well as in alluvial deposits, and occasionally in company with aquatic, in some cases, indeed, even with marine re mains. They comprise quadrupeds, birds, reptiles, insects, and plants; and they bring us down to the last periods* of the earth's change, which connect the most ancient living beings with those which are actually in existence. " Remains of quadrupeds of various extinct genera or species, together with those of some birds and reptiles, are found accompa nying fishes and shells in the fresh water deposits of the Paris basin. These are also accumulated in caverns, or fissures, more or less entangled in earthy matter. Under the same head may be also in cluded the animals entangled in ice." — Edin. Encyclop. Organic Remains^. We here find, in the able article, of which the above is an extract, a distinct admission of analogy between all such fossils, wherever they are found in a mixed state : and it may be, perhaps, with con fidence concluded, that no fossil, quadruped, bird, or plant, has yet been found, which may not be considered a deposit from the diluvial waters. t In tbe above quoted able article on organic remains, in the Edinburgh Encyclopaedia, amidst the general obscurity which una voidably overhangs this subject, when viewed under the influence of existing theories, we find many gleams of light, all of which tend towards the very points for which we are now contending. The blindness of theorists to the imperfections and contradictions of their own conceits, is often exposed by the able author of that ar ticle : and the geological theories of Cuvier have not escaped remark, and able animadversion. After giving an account of some fossil fish found m a calcareous shale near the village of Stein, (where the Rhine issues out from the Lake of Constance,) 500 feet above the level of the lake, and which have been called fresh water fish by Saussure, probably from the vegetable remains also found in the same deposit, this author makes the following remark, which m ight be equally applied to many other parts of that article : " We can only say, that if this intermixture of marine and fresh water fish exists in this place, and if there is no error in the assignment of species, the geology of this district requires to be more carefully examined." — Edin. Encyclop. Organic Remains, p. 717. We come to the same conclusions in considering the great deposits of rock salt and of coal, in every part of the world ; on each of which it may be necessary to make some observa tions : for nothing more strongly marks the former presence oi the sea upon our present lands, than the immense strata of rock salt now found in all secondary districts. In England, beds of from 20 to 30 yards thick, are found in Cheshire, and in other parts. Spain possesses the cele brated rock-salt mountain at Cordova, which is nearly 300 feet high. The salt alternates with parallel beds of clay, gypsum, or sand. Near the same place is a promontory of red salt, 660 feet high, and nearly solid throughout. The whole Island of Ormuz, in the Persian Gulf, is said to be a solid mass of fossil salt. In South America the salt mines are numerous ; and some are found in Peru, at an elvevation of 10,000 feet above the sea ; but even in these elevated regions, it is always associated, as in other countries, with secondary and diluvial formations of lime-stone, clay, sand, sea shells, &c. As to the origin of these remarkable deposits, we may conclude, from the accompanying phenomena, that the salt has been deposited in hollows, on the retreat of the diluvial waters, and that the moisture has been evaporated or drained off in the course of subsequent periods. That the waters of the ocean are found to be more richly impregnated with salt, the greater the depth from whence they are taken, is a fact which has long excited the remark of philo sophers ; and it appears highly probable that, from the greater specific gravity of salt water, a very extensive deposit of solid salt may take place in the greatest depths ofthe ocean itself. The reflux current in the Mediterranean sea is easily account ed for on this principle, that, as the waters are forced into it by the winds and the tides, and a greqt evaporation takes place from its inland surface, the impregnated salt water sinks, and being constantly supplied by the entering current, the lower strata, heavily charged with salt, are forced out again into the ocean, at a depth far beyond our observation. We have a most interesting illustration of this fact, in an account given (in the 18th number of the Edinburgh Journal of Agriculture,) of the opening of the lake of Lothing, at Lowestoft, in Suffolk, on the 3d of June, 1831, when the new harbour was first entered by sea-borne vessels. The salt water entered the lake with a strong under current, the fresh water running out, at the same time, to the sea, upon the sur face. This fresh water was raised to the top by the irruptiorf of the sea water beneath, and an immense quantity of yeast like scum rose to the surface. The entire body of water in the lake was elevated above its former level ; and on putting down a pole, a strong under current could be felt, bearing it from the sea. At one place, there was a perceptible and clear ly defined line, where the salt water and the fresh met, the former rushing under the latter; and upon this line, salt water might have been taken up in one hand, and fresh in the other.* Mr. Cox, in describing the salt mines of Wielitska, near Cracow, in Poland, says, that the latter city is completely undermined, and stands, as it were, on pillars of salt. The strata of the whole mine are described minutely by M. Gue- tard, who says, that the upper surface, like a great part of Poland, is sand; then follows clay, occasionally mixed with sand and gravel, containing fossil animal remains; and the third stratum is calcareous rock, or gypsum ; from all which circumstances he very naturally concludes, that this spot was formerly covered by the sea, and that the salt was deposited from its evaporated waters. All the above extraneous for mations being evidently diluvial, like those at Paris, guide us to the exact period of this, and all other salt deposits. It only now remains for us to take a general view of the coal formations, and endeavour to discover whether there is any analogy between them and those we have already been considering. The first striking circumstance in the coal fields, is, that they have no connection with primitive rocks, but, on the contrary, are always found in secondary and plain countries. They lie amongst sand-stones, clay-slates, and calcareous rocks, but have, in no instance, been found below chalk, which is one of the best defined secondary formations immediately preceding the deluge, as has already been shown. It is true, that in the unreasonable systems of gen eral and continuous stratification over the whole globe, which so much prevail in the geology of the present day, coal is * Great quantities of fresh water fish perished on this occasion; one pike, however, of 201bs. weight, had found time enough to de vour a herring, wiiich was found entire in his stomach. GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 79 made to lie far beneath chalk, and is, consequently, supposed to be a formation of a much earlier period. Calculations have accordingly been made, as to the probable depth of coal beneath chalk; assuming, as a fact, that the dip of the coal strata continues in the directions we now find them to lie in different coal fields. Such calculations will be elsewhere shown to lead only to error and confusion. The following passage in an able article of the Edinburgh Encyclopaedia, on the geology of England, will serve to show, in the clearest manner, the general nature of the coal fields of our own country; and all similar fields may be tra ced to similar situations, by extending our views on a suffi ciently large scale, and not being misled either by the dip of the strata, or by the nature of the embedding rocks. " The principal coal fields, in the northern part of this dis trict, lie in Northumberland and Durham ; the West Riding of Yorkshire ; and in Derbyshire. The strata of coal termi nate a few miles north-east of the town of Derby, but make their appearance again to the south of the Trent,- in Leices tershire, near Ashby de la Zouch : on the south-east, they terminate at Charnwood Hills ; while, on the south-west, a thick bed of coarse breccia and gravel separates them from the coal fields in the county of Warwick." — England, p. 713. " Although, as we have already remarked, the red sand stone rock cuts off the coal fields in general, yet, in some parts of -Lancashire, and the western counties, detached coal fields are surrounded by it. All the strata of coal, and iron stone, in South Wales, are deposited in a lime-stone basin, the form of which is an irregular oval, in length 100 miles, and, where broadest, 18 or 20 miles. The upper stratum of coal is at the depth of 50 or 60 fathoms ; the succeeding strata lie deeper, and are accompanied with paralleled strata of iron ore : the lowest strata at the centre range are from 600 to 700 fathoms deep." (This depth has, of course, not been found from actual measurement : 700 fathoms is not far from a mile; and it may be doubted, as is elsewhere shown, whe ther any secondary formations extend to so great a depth.) " In this basin there are 12 strata of coal from three to nine feet thick, and eleven others from eighteen inches, to three feet, making in all 95 feet of coal. The limestone that forms ' the substratum of this mineral deposition, appears on the sur face all along the boundary of the basin, and is supposed to have an underground connexion, from point lo point." — Edin. Encyclop. England, p. 714. Nothing can be clearer than this account : and it appears certain, that as in the case of the Paris basin, this lime-stone formed the bed of the antediluvian sea, on which the dilu vial deposits of coal, clay, iron-stone, and free-stone, were alternately laid at the same period. This being admitted, we have a natural means of accounting for the various incli nations in the parallel strata of such diluvial deposits. For, in the first place, they must have followed any inclinations that might have existed in the bed on which they were laid; and, in the next place, we cannot conceive so great a mass of very moist materials becoming drained of their moisture, and settling down into a dry and hard state, by their own weight, without subsiding more in one place than in another ; and we can thus account for those derangements in coal and other strata which always occasion trouble, and often much ex pense to the miner; and are called by the technical and provincial names of troubles, hitches, nips, slips, &c. If any additional proof were wanting of the formation of coal havingbeen occasioned by toresfo*2a/ vegetable substances, deposited by marine action, we should find it in the presence of the impressions of fish and shells in the strata of coal in Leicestershire. It may be said, that, as coal is called by ge ologists a fresh water formation, these aquatic fossils most probably belong to fresh water lakes ; but this reasoning is not consistent with numberless other facts, exhibited in the coal strata, and which fully prove their connection with the sea. There occurs also in the coal districts another difficulty, which is not so easily accounted for, although we may form some indistinct idea of it. This is, the solid dyke of a dif ferent mineral, which sometimes completely intersects the strata, and appears to have been injected, as it were, into a fissure occasioned by the subsidence above explained. We discover something analogous to these dykes, in the remarka ble beds of solid flint, which intersect the strata of chalk, in every direction.* These dykes of flint, though they never * During a residence of some time in a chalk district, on the coast, I have had an opportunity of paying some attention to the formation of flint ; a subject which has never yet been duly explained and which will probably, long continue a problem in mineralogy . With regard extend to the thickness often found in the- coal strata, are spread both laterally and vertically over a very considerable space. They are distinctly proved to be a formation subse quent to the chalk itself; and appear, like all flints, to be the petrified calcareous fluids drained from the whole mass in the course of pressure. It is not easy to account for the manner in which the strata of the chalk were sustained, and kept asunder, whilst the petrifaction of this juice was going on ; but this, like, many other such difficulties in mineralogy, does not affect the general question ; nor ought the dykes of the coal fields to be advanced in opposition to the general princi ple of formation which we have now been considering. POSTSCRIPT NOTE TO CHAPTER VIII. While these sheets are preparing for the press, and while an opportunity is still in my power, I cannot permit it to pass without a few remarks upon an important paper on the Coal Series, lately read before the Yorkshire Philosophical So ciety, and which has now been published in the last number of the London and Edinburgh Philosophical Magazine (for Dec). This paper is upon the subject of " The Lower Coal Series of Yorkshire." It presents one of the many steps in the received systems of geology, which are slowly, but surely, advancing towards that very point for which I am now con tending.; and the few remarks I have to make upon it, will, I trust, go far to prove, that the hasty conclusions of the con tinental geology, on which our own schools have all been founded, have led to much contradiction and error, on this highly important branch of our subject. It has, for some time, been one of the well known facts of geology, that, as trees and herbs could not, in any common circumstances, or by the common laws of nature, be deposit ed in a tranquil state in the bed of the sea, the extensive deposits we now discover in the form of' repeated and alter nating beds of coal, must have been deposited in fresh water ; and, from this assumption, it has followed, that, wherever vegetable substances have been discovered, in the form of regular strata, even though occasionally accompanied with shells, such formations have received the geological name of Lacustrine deposits, as having resulted from the long-con tinued action of the laws of nature in inland lakes of fresh water. This idea has, in a great measure, arisen, as I have else where had occasion to show, from the deep-rooted error, that we are now inhabiting the same dry land which existed before the Mosaic deluge ; and so misled have we in general been, by this delusion, that, wherever shells have been found to the actual composition of flint, I consider it clearly to be a petri fied fluid drained from the calcareous mass, in a moist stale. The perfect fluidity of flint, at one period of its formation, is distinctly proved, by the fossil shells often completely embedded in its sub stance 'or preserved in tbe most perfect manner, attached to its sur face. 'Shells, in a very complete state of preservation, and of the most fragile nature, are often found neatly filled with pure flint, even when at a distance from any bed, or nodule, of that matter, from which we might have concluded them to have been accidentally filled, like meltedlead intoamould. Thisfiuid matter, however, evidently did not follow the general laws of fluids, by retaining a horizontal surface ; for I have, in my collection of fossils, some shells of echini, which I found to be half filled with chalk, and half with flint ; the latter, with a rounded surface, and in a sloping position. The flint, in these specimens, is, also, quite unconnected with the only two orifices by which the liquid matter could have entered from without; it would, therefore, appear to have originated within the shell. And this idea is further confirmed, by finding, in other heautiful and per fect specimens, filled with flint, that the substance is gently rounded outwards at the orifices, as if pressed in a thick gummy state from within- instead of being hollowed inwards, as lead is, when poured into a mould from without. I have also found, occasionally, that those nearly spherical nodules found in the chalk, are sometimes hollow, and contain, in the cavity, a yellow calcareous liquid, ofthe consistency of cream, and perfectly tasteless.^ The elongated and irreonlarly pointed nodules, are often fouud in the form of hollow tube's • within which, are sometimes minute crystals, and at other times' the matter has shot into long and delicate fibres, like hair, cu riously interwoven. All these appearances in flint, distinctly prove it to have been a fluid, subsequent to the deposition of the chalk in which it is now found ; and that it may, perhaps, properly be termed the juice of the calcareous mass, in the course of dessication, con verted into stone, by those unaccountable chemical laws, which now "¦overn the mineral world. The cause of the singularly irregular cavities in wjiich the flints have been formed, and of their horizon tal stratification in the chalk, must, for the present, remain subjects of conjecture alone; but, like the dykes in the coal strata, or the grottoes and fissures in lime-stone rocks, they do not in the least affect the general question. so CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. in the neighbourhood of the coal strata, it has been assumed, as a matter of course, that they had belonged to such ani mals as then inhabited the fresh water. It must, also, he kept in mind, that, as there is often a separation of several hundred feet between the extreme limits of the beds of coal, and that, within that space, there are often many seams of that invaluable deposit, each assumed as having been the result of immense periods of time, as we may have naturally concluded, from the invisible (because visionary) progress of such deposits in the lakes of our own country, or in the rest of Europe; we are unavoidably led, by the adoption of such a theory, to discard history, and to adopt hypothesis ; laying ourselves open, in such instances as I am now about to quote, to the vacillating effects, arising from distinct contradiction. Mr John Phillips, the author of the interesting paper above alluded to, says : " The lowest portion of the Yorkshire coal strata, resting upon the mill-stone grit, produces compara tively but a small quantity of coal ; and this, in general, not of a good quality. But no part of the coal-field is more curious in its geological relations, or more worthy of close study, by those who desire to penetrate into the history of the production of coal. We may define this lowest coal series very simply, by saying, that it is included between the mill stone grit of Bromley, beneath, and the flag-stone of Elland, above, having a thickness of 120 or 150 yards, and inclosing, near the bottom,, too thin seams af coal, one, or both of them, workable ; and several other layers scattered through its mass, too thin to be worth working. The most regular and con- tinous of all these coal seams, reaches, in a few places, to the thickness of 27 or 30 inches, but is generally only about 16. It is worked at various places, near Leeds, Bradford, Halifax, and Sheffield. " It would have been impossible to have traced so thin a seam of coal, along so extensive a range, without some pecu liar facilities — some points of reference more distinct than the varying quality of the coal, and the still more irregular fluctuations of the sandstones and shales. This coal seam is covered by a roof, unlike that of any other coal bed, above the mountain limestone, in the British Islands ; for, instead of containing only the remains of plants, or fresh water shells, it is filled with u. considerable diversity of marine shells, belonging to the genera Pccten, and Ammonites ; and, in one locality, near Halifax, specimens of Orthocera Ostrea, and scaly fish, have been obtained from certain nodular argillo- calcareous concretions, called Baum Pots, lying over it. The uniform occurrence of the Pectens, and Ammonites, through so wide a range, over one particular thin bed of coal, while they are not found in any other part of the coal strata is one of the most curious phenomena yet observed concerning the distribution of organic remains, and will, undoubtedly, be found of the highest importance in all deductions relating to the cir cumstances which attended the production of coal." Mr. Phillips then proceeds to give sections of the whole series, which, as in other coal fields, consists of alternating strata of sandy and argillaceous deposits, exactly similar. in their general charjicter, to what I have already had occa sion to exhibit ; and containing, in several instances, the fossil remains of shells and plants. He then continues : " In the upper coal series of Northum berland, Durham, Yorkshire, and Derbyshire, are several most extensive layers of bivalve shells, commonly called muscle bands, and referred to the genus XJnio, from which the fresh water origin of those coal deposits has been inferred. It was, therefore, with extreme gratification, that I found, in passing through Mr. Rawson's colliery, at Swan Banks, in the midst ' of the series above described, two layers of. these shells, one of them about the middle of the scries, considerably above the Pecten coal ; the other near the bottom, and considerably below that coal." Mr. Phillips then reasons upon the " periodical return of the marine element into its ancient receptacle, after that hod- been, for some time, occupied by fresh water, and its few in habitants," in much the same way by which the theories of Cuvier attempt to account for the stratifications in the Paris chalk basin. " After what has been already said on the more consistent and historical source of such deposits, it is only necessary, in this place, to add, that so unquestionable a proof of marine agency, in various parts ofthe coal basins of England, must shake to their foundations the theories of lacustrine depo sits ; and, until it can be shown in our own lakes, t>r in those of the European continent, not only that such extensive lioneous deposits are now going on in their beds, but, als0; that distinct stratification can, under any circumstances, take place, without the action of the tides and currents, we must continue to look upon such vague and contradictory theories, as nothing better than empty dreams, which leave the mind in a confused and bewildered state, without the reason being able to attain any sound or solid ground upon which securely to repose.* CHAPTER IX. Organic Remains. — Evidences derived from them. — Erroneous Theories of Continuous Stratification. Diluvial Fossil Re mains. Diluvial Origin of Coal. — Unfounded Theories on this Subject. — The Belgian Coal Fields. — Tropical Produc tions in Polar Regions. — Buffon's Theory. — High Import ance of the Evidence of Fossils. — Natural and unavoidable mode of Transport. — Instances in Proof. — Buoyant nature of Bodies after Death. — Rate at which they might have been Transported. — The thick-skinned Animals floated longest. Having thus found a further corroboration of the truth of Scripture, in examining the appearances still existing on the general surface of the earth, we now come to the consideration of a most important part ofthe evidence, by which the record is still further supported, and in a still more remarkable de gree : I mean, that of the fossil remains of animal and veg etable productions, so abundant in the secondary and diluvial formations. This most interesting part of our subject is much too extensive to be here entered upon at great length; but as many of the theories of geology have been formed on the evidence of fossils, viewed under a false light, it becomes highly necessary to take a general view of the subject; and this general view may, perhaps, prove sufficient for our pre sent general purpose : for it must be evident, that a few facts, unequivocally proved, and supported both by reason, and by history, are of more value in leading to a just conclusion, than a thousand theories, however plausibly and ably com posed, where both reason and history are directly contra dicted. The observations of the last half century, in various parts of the world, have served to give us a tolerably extensive? view of this wide field for inquiry : but when we consider, that geology is but yet in its youth, and is only gradually rejecting the wild fancies of its more childish years ; and, further, when we remember the comparatively few spots upon the surface of the whole earth, where we can have free access to a view of the interior structure in its upper strata, it may, perhaps, be worthy of admiration, that our knowledge is already so extensive as it is. As every day, however, adds to the number of ardent inquirers who bring in their stores of information, to add to the common stock, we may hope, in a short time, to obtain much" more correct and cer tain data than we even yet possess, in order to secure the foundations of the whole structure, which have been, hitherto, but too generally laid in the sand. In tracing the strata of the earth's surface, we discover, first, that no organic substances exist in the primitive rocks ; nor do we meet with any marine remains until we rise several stages in the secondary strata. As we mount, however, to wards the surface, the quantity of shells increases in some of the. strata, while in others they are almost entirely wanting, as we may observe is the case in the visible parts of the pre sent seas ; but as we approach still nearer to the surface, and examine the rocks and soils which were formed at the period of the deluge, we find a vast increase in the fossil remains, and also a much greater variety in the species that have be come embedded. In the course of our examination into the laws of nature, by which secondary formations have been, and are still in the act of being formed, we found that it could not be ex pected that we should discover any fossil remains in the transition rocks, and but few in the earlier secondary forma tions; because, in the first case, the rocks so called, having been formed from the first fragments of the primitive earth, (by the depression of a part of which, the bed for the " gather-. ing together of the waters" was first formed,) were arranged by the currents of the ocean, before that ocean became thickly peopled ; and, in the second case, because the empty shells . * For further most important evidence on this subject, see the Supplementary Note to Chapter XI. GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 81 of the tribes, as they perished, would be comparatively few, for many years after* the rivers and the ocean had been at work in forming secondary deposits. As time advanced, however, the sea would naturally become loaded with the shelly remains ofpast generations; and we should, therefore, expect to find a proportioned increase contained in the tena cious soils which have since been hardened into stone. As we have seen that the laws which are in constant action in the waters, have a power of assorting and arranging dif ferent materials, in different and separate situations, we should expect to find shells more abundant in one formation than in another ; and as we now find recent beds of sea sand of the most equal grain, and of vast extent, without almost a vestige of entire sea shells, we cannot be surprised on finding that the same law had obtained in the early sand-stone formations, and that freestone rocks are consequently, in general, desti tute of these fossil remains ; while the calcareous rocks, which, when soft and moist, must have been of a tenacious and muddy consistency, retain shells in extraordinary quantities. We have also found that there was little probability of dis covering the remains of either fish or quadrupeds in the gradually formed secondary rocks, because, in the case of such deposits, the dead of both classes must generally have been devoured by the voracious tribes ofthe sea, before they could have been covered up and protected. It has been too long and too generally the custom with geolo gists to reason upon the age of particular formations; from the nature of the fossils which they, may be found to contain. We have thus arrived at many erroneous conclusions with respect both to the actual age of our globe, and to the gradual production of new species in the animal kingdom. As the whole science of geology may be considered to be founded on the evidence of organic fossils, it is of the highest im portance on entering upon this subject to endeavour to correct our evidence before coming to a final conclusion. And it is, therefore, highly necessary to discover whether the theory of continuous stratification is well founded ; and also, whether a distinct identity of fossil species can, in general, be traced in the same formations in every situation. On this most im portant part of the subject, I cannot produce stronger reason ing than has already been made use of by one of our most distinguished writers on geology and mineralogy; and the author of the very able article on Organic Remains, in the Edinburgh Encyclopaedia. Although my opinions, on many parts of these subjects, differ widely from those expressed by this able writer, yet we here so completely coincide, that I shall not hesitate to introduce his line of reasoning in this place. "It is now necessary," says he, "to examine a question which is strictly geological; namely, the nature and value of the evidence which fossil remains afford towards the in- dentification of strata, whether in the same, or in distant countries. Too much stress seems to have been lately laid on their utility in this respect; a natural consequence of the enthusiasm which commonly attends the discovery of a new engine. It is, in some degree, connected with the opinion which has been also held respecting the necessary identity of certain distant strata, and of an universal or very general deposition of particular rocks. The general question, as far as it is peculiarly of a geological nature, we dare not here enter upon, as'it would lead us to a very long train of investi gation ; but we may state it, not only as our own conviction, but as now a prevailing opinion among all geologists, that no proof of such universal formations, as they have been called, exists. The arguments which would prove that opinion, from a presumed identity between certain strata mutually, and that of the fossils which they contain, and which, of course, presume on a succession of fossil bodies, as definite and constant as the corresponding successions ofthe strata, are open tomany other objections, which we must now proceed-to examine. " Even admitting, that in two parts of the globe, which we shall here suppose polar and equatorial, the same strata, as to the materials and constitution of the rocks themselves, should exist, and be found also in the same order, it is not to be expected that the same fossil bodies should occur in them, unless the differences of climate were considered an object of no moment. If, in a weaker degree, yet the same objections hold good in those cases where the positions are far less discordant, as, even between the Mediterranean and the British channel, at present, we do not find a correspondence in the living species. In every situation, were we even to consider the animals only, the same reasons against such identity, among distant fossils in particular strata, exist ; as we know that the different species inhabit different places irregularly* in colonies, or r Vol. II.— L otherwise; and that even when mixed, they are limited to no determinate kin'd or number. If to this, we add the uncer tainty of the strata themselves, the chances of a concurrence become so extremely small, as. rather to make us wonder that such a notion could ever have been adopted. Many strata have been formed in independent cavities, and are not likely to have corresponded in any respect; and at this mo ment, one species, the oyster, or the muscle, for example, is now an inhabitant of submarine alluvia of entirely different characters in different seas, or even in different parts of the same sea. There is no reason why the fossils of the Paris basin should be identical* with those ofthe English; because the living animals may have differed. If the bottom of the English channel should hereafter become an elevated stratum, the variety of its fossils would confound all this reasoning. " Neither can the antiquity of beds be proved by the same rea sons, unless we could also prove an absolute succession of species, or genera in creation ; and unless these recurrences were more constant and regular than they are, and than we have shown them to be, in former parts of this essay. We might, besides, to these add many more objections to the probable value of this criterion, from general considerations ; but it cannot be necessary. With respect to its value in minor cases, when the strata in one deposit, such as that of England, are to be identified, the objections may diminish in number, yet, even then, these proofs are not to be relied on, as must be evident from what has just been stated with respect to living colo nies, now in the surrounding seas. That which would not identify modern submarine strata of mud, must not be expected to prove the identity of ancient strata of rock, formed under the same circumstances. That- it may afford occasional assistance, will not be denied : but, to use a wrong method of solving diffi culties is not only to deceive ourselves, but to establish or confirm false theories, and to stop the progress of all useful investigation. " It is evident, that to prove the identity of an universal stratum,, one species, or set of species, must have existed all over the ocean where its materials were deposited. To prove the correspondence of strata less universal, a more limited degree ofthe same improbability is required. To prove that particular fossils determine the character and place of any particular stratum, every species, or set of species, should have changed with the superposition of a fresh stratum : besides which, it should never either have pre-existed or re-existed. But it is surely unnecessary to add to these arguments against this theory. We must, therefore, here drop the subject, and examine, in' as few words as possible, by an enumeration of species and genera in particular strata, how the fact really stands. Conchologists, and those geologists who have studied this subject, will be at no loss to extend a comparison, which we shall render as distinct as possible, consistent with the necessary brevity ;• because a few deficiencies in the evidence are sufficient to render the ' whole nearly, if not entirely, use/ess ; and we need scarcely say how much we may be misled by thus trusting to what is imperfect or groundless. " The lias of France, Spain, Italy and England, a stratum^ or set of strata, well identified by their position with regard" to the red marl, contains different fossils, in these several countries. Echini are found from primary slate up to chalk; as are tellinae, turbines and chamas. The belemnites, which are common in the chalk of France and Ireland-, are rare in that of England ; and the fossils of the chalk of Maistricht are almost peculiar to it. The - vegetable remains that are found in the clay of Sheppey, do not occur in that stratum in other parts of England. Crocodiles, a fossil not a little con spicuous, occur in the lias, in the Portland oolite, in the green sand of England, and in the blue clay. Crabs, which are found in one of the earliest secondary strata, to wit, in the mountain limestone, also exist in the chalk, and in the London clay ; as far asunder as they well can be. Madreporites, ento- molites, pentacrinites, patellae, ostreas, ammonites, terebra- tulee, gryphites, pectines, anomiae, and numerous Others, which it would be superfluous to name, are found in nearly all the strata ¦¦ and so far is it from being true, that there are even any predominant associations of these, that they occur, intermixed in every possible manner, as will be more fully evinced in the general list hereafter given. It seems, there fore, quite unnecessary to pursue this subject further, since it must be sufficiently plain that the evidence in question is worth less, or worse." — Edin. Encyclop. Organic Remains, p. 753. I do not think it necessary to attempt to add to the powerful reasoning from facts, contained in the above extract. It must be evident to every candid inquirer, that it shakes to its very foundation the whole theory upon which the indefinite age of our globe is assumed ; and we thus distinctly advance in the 82 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. line of reasoning suggested by the earliest history of the earth, and by the action of the laws of nature every where displayed around us. But it is in the monuments left us by the deluge, that we should chiefly look for the most abundant fossil remains of every kind ; and we must begin the consideration of these re markable monuments, by again alluding to what has been already said in the last chapter, respecting the origin of the strata amongst which coal and other fossil productions are invariably found. It has already been stated, that by far the most probable origin of the coal fprmations, may be traced to the ruins of the whole vegetable world, at the period of the deluge; and in considering the subject of fossil quadru peds from tropical climates, we shall find sufficient reason to account for the numerous palm trees and other tropical plants which have been found to exist in some of the coal fields. Some writers have endeavoured, indeed, to- account for the coal formations, by the idea of submarine forests of sea weed, which they have supposed to exist in the depths of the ocean. Though there can be little doubt that many unknown wonders exist in these depths, and, amongst them many species cf marine animals, with which we must for ever be unacquainted, and which, as fossils, we may look' upon as extinct; yet we have no reason, from the specimens of marine vegetation oc casionally thrown upon our coasts, to suppose that any thing like trees exists there. It may, indeed, be with confidence affirmed, that no unexceptionable specimen of a marine plant, embedded in rock, has ever yet been produced. The ground for supposing that all these numerous strata in the coal dis tricts, ought, like those of the basins of Paris and of London, which contain no coal, to be included in diluvial effects, is, that from the number of months during which all things were fully submitted to the laws which act within the bed of the ocean, these laws had sufficient time to class and arrange the enormous quantity of moveable materials so abundantly pro vided by that destructive event : and however difficult we may find it, to bring our minds to the conviction, that beds of many hundred feet might have been formed in the course of a few months, we ought to correct our confined notions on such subjects, by well considering the large scale ofthe whole earth, by which we have hitherto been measuring the phe nomena on its surface. In examining a section of the coal strata in the vicinity of Newcastle, we find the following result in a mine of 270 yards in depth. Yds*, ft. in. Covering of loose soil ------1000 35 strata of different coloured sandstone at various depths - ---177 10 1 6 strata of clay and clay slate - - - 72 2 8 16 strata of coal, of various thickness, from 2 feet to 6 inches - - - - 10 0 2 Yards 270 0 10 We thus find the strata, in this great coal field, composed exclusively of such sandy and argillaceous materials as were naturally to be looked for in the accumulations from the di luvial waters, during a continued action of several months. On examining sections of other coal districts, as in Stafford shire, and in Scotland, we find the same constant repetition of sandstone, slate-clay, flrerday, argillaceous ironstone, &c. without, in any instance, intervening formations, such as «halk, containing shell fossils, or others obviously of slow and gradual marine formation, indicating a long period be tween the deposition of the different strata of coal. It has been already observed, that the coal fields are generally, more or less, in the. form of a basin / and as the upper edges of these calcareous, or sand-stone basins, are in many in stances traced round the whole circumference of the deposit; and as the same materials are, in such cases, found to form the bed on which the coal and other superincumbent strata repose, we have the strongest possible reason for concluding that the whole formed a valley or basin in the bed of the an tediluvian sea, and received its contents, while that sea was depositing the whole movable matter of the former continents with which, we feel satisfied, its waters must have been charged. In these deposits large trees are often found, de tached from the great strata of coal, and extending from one stratum through a variety of others, which is sufficient proof of these strata, at least, having all been formed at one period. Some of these fossil trees are so perfectly petrified, that the roughness of the bark is distinctly seen, as well as the in terior circles, which denote the yearly growth of the timber. At other times, the wood is half carbonated, like the surtur- brand of Iceland. It is also a general remark in all coal dis tricts, that the stratification which attends that fossil sub stance, always terminates, and is ill defined and disordered when it approaches any mountain range of primitive or early secondary rock. This is an effect which we should naturally look for, when we consider the nature of the subsidence of a moist mass of such extent, on being left to drain of its su perfluous waters. For while that mass subsided more in one place than in another, and thus' produced what, in the miner's phrase, are called troubles, dykes, and slips, we can easily sup pose great disorder to have been occasioned where the mass touched the edges of the basin within which it was deposited ; and where friction would prevent regularity in the subsidence for some considerable distance, and would consequently throw the whole stratification into disorder. That these troubles, dykes, and slips, are occasioned by such subsidence, is clearly proved by the well known circumstance in coal mines, that, even in such cases, each stratum usually retains its parallel ism, with Tegard to those immediately above ani-below it. We must feel satisfied, that, at the period of the deluge, the -whole forest scenery ofthe globe, with the roots,, branches, and foliage entire, must have been floated off upon the waters, matted together in groups, and forming immense islands, which must have been overwhelmed in confused masses, by the force of the waves, embedded at various depths, and cov ered up by strata, of various earthy and sandy composition, all which strata, having been subsequently placed above the level of the present seas, either by .the depression of the for mer continents, or by the elevation of the bed of the former sea, (or by a combination of both these effects,) have been since drained of their former moisture, and have assumed the solid mineral substance which we now find so valuable. It may be urged, in opposition to this idea, that such mass es of vegetable substances would continue to float upon the w-aters for any length of time, and therefore could not be em bedded at the depths we now often find the coal strata. But we are assured by daily experience, that though vegetable matter may float for some time upon the waters, it does- riot thus continue sufficiently buoyant for an indefinite period; but, on the contrary, becomes at length so completely satu- rated with water, as to lose its buoyancy, and to sink to the bottom, like any other heavy substance. We have, amongst many familiar proofs of this, one directly in point, which is described as now in progress, on a considerable scale, in some of the American lakes ; where such collections of timber are, in many instances, being formed near the embouchures of the rivers which flow into them from the forests, that the extent, both superficially, and in depth, appears truly astonishing, and has been described as the incipient formation of future coal fields. In the late survey of the boundaries between the United States and Canada, we have some interesting information on this subject. About 1000 streams of various sizes are des cribed as emptying themselves into Lake Superior ; and as sweeping into it great quantities of drift timber, which form islands near the mouths of the rivers. Within a mile of the shore, this lake is, in many places, 70 or 80 fathoms in depth ; and within eight miles, it has been sounded 136 fath oms. The thickness of this lignite formation is, therefore, probably very considerable. These accumulations are often at some depth under water; and it is probable that in the course of their long passage down the American streams, the trees become saturated with moisture, and arrive in the lakes in a state which causes them to sink, and accumulate in the manner described. In our own country we are so familiarised to floating fir timber in all our sea ports, that we are too apt to consider all timber as buoyant in a high degree. But when we extend our views lo the im mense forests of the whole earth, and consider the condition to which this forest scenery must have been reduced by the action of the deluge, we must be convinced that, on so great a scale, the buoyancy of the great floating masses could not have long continued ; and that various succeeding masses must have sunk in tbe diluvial waters, at successive short periods, sufficiently distant, however, to admit of considerable intervening accumulations of earthy or sandy sediments, be tween the strata which were destined to the formation of coal.* We feel satisfied that the plants and leaves now found in such abundance, impressed upon the strata in contact with the coal, and for a few feet distant from it, must have been em- * For the most conclusive evidence on this part of our subject, see the Supplementary Note to Chapter XI. GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 83 bedded in a fine, soft clay, or mud ; because their most tender stems are well preserved, and are often unbroken to a consid erable length : and as many of these plants have been recog nized as belonging to tropical climates, they must be judged by the same evidence by which the tropical animals now found in uncongenial climates can be proved to have been floated, by the currents of the ocean, from a southern to a northern latitude.* If, then, it can be proved, beyond a doubt, that the mammoth of the frozen regions, never could have been an in habitant of those regions, where its remains are now found preserved in ice ; we must, upon the same evidence, conclude tliat all tropical fossil productions now found in climates un- suited to their growth, were lodged in their present beds by the same powerful agent ; and that that agent was the deluge described by Moses ; because neither from history, tradition, nor facts, have we evidence of any other such destructive event. In Iceland, and also in the lately discovered Melville Island , in the arctic regions, remains of large trees have been found, more or less converted into coal ; and in some cases the stems are only partially carbonized. In both these cases, they are of a size that bespeaks the produce of a very different climate from that in which they are noV found ; and they must, there fore, like other southern products, in northern latitudes, be attributed to the action of the currents at the period of the deluge. Amber may also be mentioned as an antediluvian fossil, found more frequently in the northern, than in the-southern regions. It is not certainly known to what species of tree this gum must formerly have belonged ; but it is evident, that it is the resinous juice of a tropical plant, in which insects have become entangled in the same manner as in similar cases, on modern trees. That it should be found more fre quently in the north than in the south, is an additional evi dence of the effects of currents ; as from its great buoyancy in water, it would float for any length of time, and become embedded in the diluvial soils, from which it has subsequent ly been washed out by rivers, carried again to the sea, and thrown upon our coasts, or is found floating on the waters. It is, however, often found in its diluvial bed in France, and in Germany ; and on many parts of our own eastern coasts, it is found associated with jet, or bituminized wood. The above line of reasoning respecting stratification, must, no doubt, appear strange to all those who coincide with the following curious passage, to be found in a work intended " for the use of young persons, who may desire to become acquainted'with the elements of Mineralogy and Geology." In treating of the general geology of England, and after ex plaining the commonly received theory of general and regu lar stratification, this author proceeds thus : " In fine, a view of the geology of England assures us of the truth of the assertion with which we set out, — that order in regard to. de position is universally prevalent, and that this order is. never inverted. Keeping in view this important fact, we, who re side in a country which is of the newest formation," (allud ing to London, or its neighbourhood,) " might amuse our selves with speculations upon the distance which any one of the more ancient strata dips beneath our feet. This can only be done as a matter of curiosity, for we cannot even hope io ap proach the truth, because /Sf the uncertainty whether the numerous strata to the wetSt of us do, or do not, actually con tinue to dip towards the east, any considerable distance be neath the surface ; and even if we were to assume this to be the fact, for the sake of amusing ourselves with a calculation of some sort, we should still be at a loss as to the probable thick ness ofthe several strata. Coal is one of the most important deposits, and therefore claims our consideration in as great, if not in a greater degree, than any other. We find, then, that the nearest place to London at which coal is found, is in *The species of fossil found near the coal, which has been called Lepidodendron, is very abundant, and is sometimes found of great size. Some specimens have been measured ih the Jarrow Colliery, from 25 to 50 feet in length : and in the Fossil Flora, a specimen of this plant is mentioned,y&w and a half feet in breadth. The unbroken length of some of the coal fossils has been urged as an argument against transportation, but without sufficient grounds. For if we consider the great floating masses of vegetation which must, in numberless instances, have been bound together at the pe riod of the deluge, we may easily suppose that many of the reeds or tough canes must have become deposited with the whole mass, in an unbroken state. Amongst other vegetable substances found m the mines of Northumberland, ears of barley, and leaves oi pine apples, have been noticed. Sometimes large trees extend Jrom one stratum, into another, one end of this petrified timber being ot a dif ferent mineral nature from the other. the neighbourhood of Bristol, near which place it dips to the east, beneath the red marl.' In this country its geological. situation is between it and the mountain limestone. Now, its geological situation being beneath the red marl, we may observe, that there are very many formations, or strata, sup posing them all to dip together towards the east, intervening, between the London clay and the coal. .And when we recol lect that the outgoing of the nearest coal is upwards of 100 miles from London ; that the wells there pass upwards of 130 feet through the London clay, before we. reach the sand which lies upon the chalk, from which sand the water of the London wells springs ; if again we consider that, between the sand, and the coal, the numerous strata extend on the surface, over a tract of country about 40 miles in length from east to West, as from Hungerford to Bristol ; and if, moreover, we im agine all these strata to be compressed beneath the sand which lies upon the chalk, into one-twentieth part of what their out goings occupy on the surface; we shall, even then, be compelled to suppose, that the strata of coal are more than two miles be neath the bottom of the London clay. How near the truth this calculation may be, or whether the coal, and all the interven ing strata between it and the chalk, pass away beneath our feet, we have no reasonable ground for concluding."* Thus, because " the coal near Bristol dips towards the east three feet in six," there may. be a possibility ofthe existence of the same seam, at the depth of several miles under the deep London clay. For it is too much to allow a loss of nineteen twentieths, in the calculation, by the compression of the strata ; for, instead of being compressed, they must be supposed to be expanded, to occupy so much more room than they would all have done, had the whole series been found at Bristol. It seems scarcely necessary to remark upon the extravagance of theory contained in the above passage. In stead of taking London for our point of calculation, we have only to extend the idea a few hundred miles still further to the east of Bristol; and, including in our calculation all the strata of secondary rocks, upon which jcoal reposes at Bris tol, and following up the same line of reasoning, upon the continuous stratification of the earth, what would be the result of our calculation ? What a deformed and irregular mass would a section of the globe present, under such a theory! It would, in some rough degree, resemble the effect of Indian turning on a watch : the primitive nucleus of the globe would be entirely absorbed by the irregular segments of circles of secondary formation; and we should be utterly at a loss to represent the strata which lie in a vertical position. When such theories as the above can be proved, to de monstration, to be founded in reason, and supported by facts, the page of the Mosaic geologist must, indeed, be forever closed. With regard to the comparative level of the extensive chalk formation of the north of France, and the great coal field of Belgium, we have the most convincing occular de monstration of that of the former being below that of the latter. For if we follow out the section of the chalk pre sented to our view on the sea coast, proceeding from Calais in an easterly direction, we find the cliffs becoming gradually lower, as the whole country inclines to a lower level, until, at length, the chalk dips from our view, and we are launched into that immense sea of level alluvial plain, of which Hol land and Belgium form but a small part. Now, when we trace the borders of the great chalk formation in the north of France, proceeding inland from the neighbourhood of Calais, ih a S. E. direction, we find, that, although, from the unbroken state of that country, we cannot perceive the actual dip of the chalk beneath the alluvial plains of Bel gium, yet we must feel Convinced, from the section of the coast which we had previously examined, that we may assume that dip with as much certainty, as if presented to our view throughout the whole line. It is in this great allu vial plain, then, that we "find, in the neighbourhood of Brus sels, all those proofs of diluvial ruin, precisely similar to what are presented to. our view in so many other parts of the world. We discover in great abundance, and at various depths, the remains of elephants, and other tropical quad rupeds. We find, in 'great abundance, both coal and limestone, without in any instance having to pierce the chalk, which we had seen disappearing under the diluvial strata, with a gentle dip and inclination. Here, then, we have another convincing proof of the nature of the deluge, and of the great chalk formation having formed at least one * Phillip's Outlines of Geology, page 219. 84 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. portion of the bed of the sea, at this destructive period ; and yet, in the usually received opinions of geology, the chalk formation is placed far above that of coal, apparently from no better reason, than that chalk usually presents an elevation on the upper surface, while coal must be looked for at various depths below the level of the ground.* In giving a faint sketch of the scene that must have been presented, during the height and abatement of the deluge, I had occasion to notice the power with which the currents must have acted, in transporting the floating remains of ani mals and vegetables from one place to another, and the speculations which those fossil bodies have given rise to, in "\hese latter times. There is, indeed, no part of geological research that appears to have been viewed in a more false •light, or that has given rise to more wi-ld and unreasonable theories, than the mode of accounting for the fossil remains of tropical productions, in climates quite uncongenial to their support in a living state. To account for the numerous remains of elephants in the frozen regions, theories have been formed to show that the climates of our planet have been changed, by a change or position of the earth with regard to the sun. Others have supposed, that the climates are now .what they ever have been, but that the animals whose remains are now found in the north, had a constitution fitted to a polar climate, because some elephants have been there found to have hair upon their bodies, with which most modern elephants are usually very sparingly provided. . The complete state of preservation in which* they have been found, has also been advanced as a conclusive argu ment in proof of their having lived where they died, and having been suddenly encased in ice, by which even their flesh and blood have been completely preserved, like the bodies of insects in amber. To give some notion of the extraordinary grounds upon which philosophers have sometimes founded their wild theories, we have only to glance at the idea of the celebrated Buffon, with regard to the changes of the climates of the globe; and all this extravagance of theory was to account for the remains of tropical animals ia frozen regions ; and, at the same time, to lend a helping hand to the ideas respecting the earth which he had previously promulgated. Buffon considered, that our earth was nothing more than a piece of the sun, struck off from its orb, by the violent collision of a passing comet ; that it was driven into space in a state of red hot fusion, and thus gradually lost its native heat ; that in process of time .the latitude of Siberia became suffi ciently cool for elephants, and other animals to live there ; that when Siberia became, at length, too cold, they migrated to the southward, until they at length settled themselves, and became confined to the torrid zones. We are not told, by this distinguished naturalist, whence the elephants come; how the plants migrated, or how so many thousands of elephants showed so little of their' celebrated and well known sagacity, as to have permitted themselves to be caught, in the ice of the polar regions. This theory of Buffon holds out but a melancholy prospect to the animated beings now inhabiting the earth ; as, in process of time, the whole must cool down to what the polar regions now are. Our only comfort, in such circumstances, must arise from the millions of years which the great theorist reckoned upon, for the cooling of so large a mass, and of which, we must hope, there are some few thousands yet to elapse. ' - Such are the grounds on which opposition to the.sacjpd history has been raised ! — and this within the last half cen tury! On a foundation nearly equally unsound, have the subsequent theories of French geology been laid.f * The actual depth of the chalk formation, is a point with which we are, as yet, very imperfectly acquainted. In the Isle of Thanet, in Kent, a well was bored for nearly 500 feet, in the idea of finding- fresh water beneath ; but as the chalk and flint beds were equally solid throughout, the attempt was abandoned. This bore was continued upwards of 400 feet below the level of the sea, and must have also been far below the sea-bed of tbe adjoining coast ; for, in the straits, of Dover, the greatest depths are only from 18 to 24 fathoms, (or from 108 to 144' feet). From this circumstance, we may, with certainty conclude, that the chalk formations of England and of France form one continuous bed-of much greater depth than we can easily penetrate ; and especially as it does not offer the same inducement to mining speculations, which are so often presented among' other secondary beds. + There cannot, perhaps, be a more proper place, thaji, ^fter the exhibition of so impious and wild a theory of French philosophy, to remark upon the very common notion, from time to time revived amongst the weak and the ignorant in Europe, thata comet is to ap pear, and to injure, or utterly destroy the earth; and the year, and As the whole question of the nature of the deluge, how ever, may be said-to turn upon the subject of fossils, it must be admitted to be a point of the very highest interest, and, consequently, well worthy of the most careful examination. The great difficulty of accounting for these, and all other fossil remains of tropical productions in northern latitudes, appears to arise from the constant, but erroneous conception, that we are now living on the identical dryland which existed before the flood, and which the Almighty had declared he would destroy, together with its- inhabitants. From the moment the subject is viewed in a proper light, and the conviction is secured, in the total disappearance of the old lands, and of our now inhabiting the dry bed of the former ocean, the difficulties vanish, and the whole subject becomes consistent and clear. The first objects in this inquiry ought to be, to show, from physical facts, that a mechanical force does exist, the nature and action of which is, to transport floating bodies to a great distance, and, in many cases, in a northerly direction. In a former part of this treatise, I have explained, in a general way,. the nature and causes of the currents of the ocean, and have shown, that one great branch flowing west ward, from the western coasts 3f America across the Pacific, passes through the Chinese seas with great force, accelerated, no doubt, by the opposition it meets with amongst the nume rous points and islands. Here, then, is one mechanical power, by which floating objects would be, and no doubt are, transported from one side of the great Pacific to the other. This same current, advancing- westward through the sea of Bengal, and forced to double Cape Comorin, on the south point of that peninsula, is urged, by the present form of the eastern coast of Africa, in a southern direction, whereas, if this opposing shore did not exist, it Would more naturally flow to the northward and westward, in the direction of the present European coasts. Here, then, is another part of the same mechanical power, which, if not prevented by the form of the present dry lands, and left free, as it must have been, at the period of the deluge, would transport floating bodies in a direct course. from Asia towards Europe.. If we still further follow out the courses of the currents, we discover another great branch called the Guif Stream, rushing, with great rapidity, along the coasts of the United States, from a southern to a northern latitude, washing the coasts of Newfoundland ; from whence it is forced, in a north easterly direction, across the Atlantic, over to the coasts of Norway and the British Isles, and would, no dQubt, have continued in its north-easterly course, towards the Arctic regions, .had there been any free opening into the North Pacific Ocean in that direction. In the present state, how ever, of the sea and land, this current passes through the Bay of Biscay, and advances, southerly, towards the equa tor. Here, again, is an existing instance of mechanical power, by means of which floating objects are now constantly transported from the tropical climates of America and the West Indies, to the northern shores of Europe. Mr. Pennant, amongst others, has remarked the .variety of nuts, and other vegetable substances, which are thrown on the coasts of Norway and the Orkneys, from these southern climes ; and also the mast of a British ship of war, the Til bury, which was burnt at Jamaica, being thrown by this current on ihe western coast of Scotland. The same naturalist, also, speaks of the amazing quantities of drift wood from the American rivers,' lodgedon the coasts of Iceland. In further proof of the general system of the currents, the following instances may be given, out of many. A bottle, thrown overboard off Cape Farewell, on the 24th of May, 1818, from* the Alexander, (one ofthe ships in Captain'Ross's first voyage, in search of a north-west pass- even the day^ is sometimes named for this termination to our human anxieties. This idea savours much of that very fortuitous philoso phy which we have found such reason to condemn. Can it be for a moment supposed, that the Providence of the Almighty Ruler of the creation is so imperfect, or obscure, or the mechanism of the universe so ill regulated, that a collision can take place between any of the heavenly bodies, and an accident arise from the derangement of the Divine work, as constantly happens in tbe most perfect ofthe weak inventions of man? When has such an event occurred, in the lapse of ages ? In what part of the annals of astronomy is it described ? On those who repose with confidence in an All-wise Providence and who have faith in the inspiration of Scripture, and consequently, in the unerring truth of prophecy, such vain alarms will have no effect ; for they know that the foretold events of Scripture are not yet nearly fulfilled; and that, till these events take place, and while the earth remaineth, " seed time and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night, shall not cease."— Genesis, viii. 22. GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 85 age,) was picked up on the Island of Bartragh, in the Bay of Killala, in Ireland, on the 17th of March, 1819, having floated- across the Atlantic, probably at a rate of more than four miles per day. Some casks and shakes, (or empty casks taken to pieces, and packed tight, for the convenience of stowage,) belonging to the Royalist and London Hull whalers, which were both Wrecked about latitude 61 degrees N., and longitude 56 degrees W., in 1814 and 1817, were picked up off the Butt of the Lewis, within a year of the time of these vessels being lost. And a shake that had belonged to the London, was found drifting through the Orkneys, about eleven months after the loss of that vessel. • It had, therefore, performed the passage of 1600 nautical miles within that time, or, on an average, of five miles per day ; and, in this instance, the transporting agent must have been quite unas sisted by the winds, as these shakes are generally so soaked in oil, and are so heavy, that they float almost entirely under water. — Scoresby's Arct. Reg. vol. i. p. 208. Mr. Scoresby, also, mentions a log of mahogany which was picked up at sea by Admiral Lowenorn, in 1786, when on his voyage to attempt the discovery of Old Greenland. "This piece of wood, which was so large, that they were obliged to saw it in two, before they could get it on board, they found in latitude 65 degrees 11 minutes N., longitude 35 degrees 8 minutes West of Paris. In the Danish settlement of Disco, is a mahogany table, made out of a plank 'drifted thither by the current ; and it is now in the possession of the governor. A tree of log-wood wa*s also pieked up .not far from the same place. These logs of wood, the produce of the isthmus which connects North and South America, could only reach the places where they were severally found, by floating up the west coast of America, towards the north, through Behring's Straits, and so along the northern face of Asia or America, or across the northern pole." — Scoresby's Arct. Reg. vol. i. p. 7. We have thus distinct instances produced by the above en lightened navigator and philosopher, of floating bodies being carried from an equatorial to a frozen region. Lieutenant Kotzebue found the current in Behring's Straits setting with great force to the north-east, and with a velocity of about two miles and a half an hour. If the same opportunities were afforded for scientific observations on the transporting effects of the currents, in the southern hemisphere, and in the un explored or barbarous parts of the northern hemisphere, where E uropean knowledge has not yet been introduced, there can be no doubt that these transporting effects would be as distinctly observed all over the earth, as they have been in the above instances. These are, however, fully sufficient to establish the existence of a mechanical power of transporta tion ; and it would be both injudicious, and unnecessary, to endeavour to account for all the individual courses of the di luvial currents ; for, as the lands by which these currents must have been influenced, no longer exist, the attempt could not be expected to terminate in any certain result. Having now, however, found an agent, by which floating bodies are naturally carried from a southern to a northern lat itude, let us follow the course of any animal body, such as that of «an elephant, when deprived of life, in a southern lati tude, and left to the influence of the natural currents of the ocean. It is a well known part of the laws of nature, that an ani mal body, deprived of life by drowning, at first generally sinks by its own weight, and remains under water, until the laws ef decomposition begin to operate. In the early course of this operation, and sooner, or later, according to the tempera ture of the atmosphere and the water, a quantity of air becomes disengaged ;* and by this air, generated in the interior of the body, the whole becomes distended like a bladder, and rises to the surface of the water, by the same laws of gravity by which it had before sunk. The cause of this gasseous va pour, with which animal bodies become distended in the water, has not, perhaps, beer, yet examined with that careful attention which the subject appears so well to merit. It has been remarked by naval men, that when a body has sunk in a situation where no current is likely to remove it, it may be expected to appear, floating on the surface, and in a shape any thing but human, about the ninth day after death, when a good look out is generally '.kept for itsrecovery. The time of such appearance on the surface, with regard to other animals, must, of course, depend upon their size, and the temperature of the water.* In the common course of things, a body cannot long con tinue in this floating state, because it is immediately attacked by birds or fish, and again sinks to the bottom, as soon as the skin is broken, and the air thus suffered to escape. In the interesting accounts of the whale fisheries, by Mr. Scoresby, we find that the bodies of whales are often seen in the man ner above described, and buoyed up by the air generated in * the operation of decomposition. That remarkable whale, the skeleton of which has so lately excited the wonder and admi ration of every beholder in London, (the weight of which, in an entire state, was 240 tons, or 480,000 pounds, its length being 95 feet,) even this monster of the deep polar seas, was found floating on the surface of the water, off the coast of Belgium, and was conveyed ashore near the port of Ostend. This whale was, no doubt, brought into these temperate re gions by one of the very currents we have lately been consid ering. When a whale is struck dead by repeated wounds of the harpoon, its body often sinks, if not immediately secured to the ship, or to the neighbouring ice. When this occurs, a look out is kept for some days, and the body is generally found floating on the surface of the water, and attended by great flocks of sea gulls,- and sometimes by white bears, which soon destroy its buoyant quality, when it again sinks, to rise no more ; and we may easily suppose that such large remains become gradually covered up by the marine soils, or second ary formations, and would thus prove sources of wonder and speculation, if there were a possibility of their ever be ing exposed to the eyes of man, which, however, we know, from the \erf highest authority,is never likely to happen, as it has been declared by the Almighty : " I will establish my covenant with man ; neither shall all flesh be cut off any more by the waters of a flood; neither shall' there any more be a flood to destroy the earth. — Genesis, ix. 11. But during the awful event we are now considering, all an imated nature ceased to exist, and, consequently, the floating bodies of the dead must have been buoyed up until the bladders burst, by the force of the increasing air contained within them. The stronger, therefore, the hide of the animal, the longer it would resist this internal force; and, consequently, we can, without any difficulty, imagine the bodies of elephants, rhi- noceri, bears, lions, and other large, coarse-skinned animals, floating upon the waters for several weeks, or even still longer, if they were rapidly carried into a cool latitude. We have not many positive data on which to form a judg ment as to the length of time necessary for floating a body from the equatorial to the more northern regions; butvas one instance, well authenticated, is as valuable for our purpose, as many, I shall quote that mentioned by Mr. Granville Penn, of the " Newcastle, 60 guns, Captain Fanshawe, which sailed from Halifax, in Nova Scotia, on the morning of tfie 12th of December, 1821, and anchored at Spithead on Christmas day, having traversed a space of 3000 miles in thirteen days.f *«When the operation of flensing is completed" ^ys Mr. Scoresbv "the tackle by which the whale was supported s removed, and "becarca e, or krJg, commonly sinks ; but .omel.mes.lMW Zollen by the air produced by putrefaction; that it ™™>™tZs .everal feet above the water.— It thus becomes the food lor bears, sharks, and various kinds of fish."— Arctic -Regions. * It is a singular fact, well know to many naval men, that the • bodies of unfortunate, individuals, who have been drowned in a har bour, or other situation, free from currents, may be recovered by the firing of cannon in the immediate neighbourhood of the spot where they have stink. Many successful instances of this experi ment have been mentioned to me ; and especially one, wherein the chaplain and a whole boat's crew of the Valiant, were upset in a squall, many years ago, in Torbay, and the whole unfortunate peo- ' pie disappeared. On the following day, an order was issued by the" Admiral, for each of the ships of the fleet to fire some guns, and, in about an hour afterwards, the whole of the bodies, amounting to 12 or 14 were found floating on the surface. A similar trial, attended by similar effects, was made with the guns of Sir Godfrey "Webster's yacht, at Margate, when the body of a boatman, who had been lost, was thus recovered. The idea generally entertained of the cause of this effeet, is, that the concussion occasioned by the firing, breaks the °-all-bl adder, when a chemical process takes place, in which a quan tity of gas is produced, which swells up the body, and causes it in stantly to rise to the surface. Whether this be strictly correct or not must be left for chemists to decide. This effect of conoussion, however, certainly deserves more attentive consideration than it ap pears hitherto to have met with. It may assist in leading us to an explanation of the manner in which fish are known to be affected, at a great depth, by sounds ; as porpoises, dolphins, and other larger fish, are known to be roused to unusual exertion and activity, by the firing of cannon. The subject might also afford great additional as sistance to the benevolent efforts of the Royal Humane Society, in the recovery of lost bodies. t As the longitude of Halifax is 68 degrees west of London, the 86 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. Had it not been for an interruption of forty-eight hours, occa sioned by contrary winds, this distance would have been run in eleven days. The average progress* therefore, was 273 miles in the twenty-four hours ; and on one of the days, the vessel actually ran 288 miles. As the wind blew almost a constant hurricane, very little sail was carried."* We have here a recent instance of a large floating body following the direct line of one of the very currents which we have traced, (assisted, it is true, by a high wind,) and passing over a space of nearly 4000 miles in about eleven days, with very little assistance from artificial means. One glance at the map of the world will show that the same fa vourable current, and the same powerful wind, would, in a few days more, have carried the same body into the polar seas. Now, from the latitude of 20 degrees north, (or about the meridian of the centre of Hindostan,) to that of 75 degrees, (or that of the north of Nova Zembla and Siberia,) is not more than a distance of 3300 miles ; and, therefore, even al lowing for a smaller floating body than a ship of war, without much sail, we cannot hesitate in concluding to the impossi bility of large inflated animal bodies remaining entire during a longer time than would be necessary for the passage of this distance, at a period peculiarly marked by storms and tem pests. We are not, however, to suppose it probable, that the greater number of dead bodies reached a high northern lati tude in an entire state. On the contrary, numbers must have sunk in every part of the temperate regions, and become em bedded, piece-meal, in the rapidly accumulating diluvial for mations where we now find them in a fossil state. But it must be admitted to be a remarkably corroborative circum stance, in support of this view of the subject, that, as the elephant, the hippopotamus and rhinoceros, are the animals, of all others, we should expect to float longest in an entire state, from the great strength and thickness of their skins, so they are the very animals now found in such vast numbers in the frozen regions, as to make their ivory a very considerable and valuable branch of northern commerce. we have found to be so objectional and unsound. His nu merous revolutions, his alternate sab%and fresh water deluges, all bespeak the school from which he1 derived his earliest geo logical ideas, and of which he' himself latterly became the head. We cannot, therefore, with any consistency, or hope of profitable instruction, follow the track by which he would lead us to the origin of these fossil remains. It is in the arctic and north polar regions of the earth, that some of the most remarkable and best preserved of those fossil remains have been discovered. There cannot, how ever, be a doubt, that if the south polar regions were equally accessible, we should also find their icy masses charged with the remains ofthe antediluvian dead. In Siberia, that barren region, so associated in our minds with tyrannical cruelty, solitude and desolation, where ¦ neque ullse CHAPTER X. High Imparlance of the Evidence of Fossils. — Siberian Mam moth. — The entire Elephant of the Lena. — Theories founded on this Specimen, unsupported by facts. — Consistent mode of accounting for Tropical Productions in Cold Climates. — Un changed condition of the Climates of the Earth. — Italian Deposits. — Monte Boica. — Fossils on the Coast of Norfolk. — Formations of the South of England. — The same View ex tended to the Continent. We may nowproceed to the consideration of some ofthe most remarkable fossil remains of quadrupeds that have been found in. the temperate regions, and in such quantities in high northern latitudes, as to have given rise to much speculation and vague theory amongst philosophers, respecting the means by which they came into their present unnatural'situations. The bones of large quadrupeds have been observed, more or less, in all the quarters of the globe, ;where any attention has been paid to the search for them. -In early times they were considered as the bones of the giants which were sup posed to have formerly inhabited the earth. As mankind became more enlightened, these absurd opinions gave place to something nearer approaching the truth : it is, however, only within the last half century that science has applied that attention to the subject, of which it is so highly deserv ing; though the number of different opinions relating to these animal remains, proves how uncertain philosophers still are respecting them. The great attention of late paid to com parative anatomy, more especially in France, under that distinguished naturalist, the late Baron Cuvier, has greatly increased our knowledge of the different classes of animals, the remains of which are now found in the earth. But the geological views of that eminent man by no means kept pace with his zoological and anatomical knowledge. His theo ries of the earth, though exhibiting much talent, are all formed upon those very principles of secondary causes which Aut herbse campo apparent aut arbore frondes : Sed jacet aggenbus niveis informis et alto Terra gelu late, — : — ' ' Semper hiems, semper spirantes frigora cauri, the great steppes, or plains, formed of a sandy and gravelly soil, intermixed with salt lakes, contain such quantities ofthe remains of elephants, that the fossil ivory forms fa highly important and valuable branch of commerce. The natives of that country have given the name of mammoth, or the mole, to these fossil elephants ; and, however strange it may appear, they look upon them as the bodies of animals now living under the ground; which idea is, however, founded on ap pearances and facts which render it in some sort plausible. For those who inhabit the northern regions, frequently find the remains of these large- bodies still fresh and bloody ; ahd as no such animals are ever seen on the surface of the ground in those regions, it is not unnatural for the ignorant peasants to suppose them to be a species of gigantic mole, which still lives and burrows in the earth. The able historian, Muller, who resided at Moscow in 1779, admitted that he was of the same opinion. About the year 1799, a large object was observed by some fishermen, near the mouth of the Lena, on the coast of the Arctic ocean, to project. from an icy bank, but beyond the reach of examination. For several following seasons the same object was remarked, and every year a little more dis engaged from its icy bed, by the slow melting of the ice during the short summers. At length, in 1803, it became entirely detached, and the enormous carcase of a mammoth fell upon the sand bank below. This remarkable specimen was quite entire when it first fell, and the flesh so well pre served that it was greedily devoured by the white bears, and by the dogs ofthe fishermen.* In 1806, the remains of this carcase were examined by Mr. Adams, a member of the academy of St. Petersburgh, when the greater part of the bones, and a large portion of the skin yet remained. The brain was then still within the skull, but shrunk and dried . up ; and one of the ears was well preserved, retaining a tuft of strong bristly hair. The animal was a male, and is de scribed as having had a sort of mane on its neck. As the description of Mr. Adams, however, was given nearly three years after the body fell on the sands, and as it had been par tially exposed to the atmosphere during several years more; there can be little doubt that, if it had been dug out of its icy bed when first seen in 1799, we should have had a com plete and minute description and drawing of one species of the antediluvian elephant. Much stress has been laid by naturalists, whose theories of the earth required the aid of such evidence, on the remark able shaggy coat of hair, with a species of wool at the roots, with which this antideluvian elephant was clothed : and it has been advanced, as a positive proof of the animal having lived where his remains were discovered; and, consequently, that he, and thousands of the same unwieldly race, the fossil bones of which are now -found in such surprising quantities in the north, were all the natural inhabitants of these sterile regions, direct distance passed over by the Newcastle, mu.st be fully 3700 geographical miles, br nearly 1000 more than Mr. Penn has calcu lated upon. * Comp. Estim. * It may appear to some, an improbable part of the history of this remarkable fossil, that any animal substance could have so long resisted decomposition, when acted upon by a solar heat, capable of melting the ice in which it was embedded. But it must be con sidered, that, in those high northern latitudes, as in the gtfeat at mospheric elevations of mountain ridges, in the regions of eternal snow, the air is of so rare and dry a nature, that the decomposition of animal substances can scarcely take place under any circum stances. It is true, that the direct rays of the sun act, in such situa tions, for a short time, with great power. But a general heat is never produced, such as occasions" rapid fermentation in the equa torial and temperate regions. GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. ¦where no appearance of vegetation for their support is ever now produced.* But notwithstanding this thick coat of hair and wool, we have not a shadow of ground for supposing the animal which it covered, ever to have been a native of the irozen regions; because, in their present state, the soils of those climates do not produce the food necessary even for tne smallest graminivorous animals, much less, then, for creatures of the size of the elephant, which are known to re quire the most luxuriant forest scenery for their habitation. lt_is admitted that no such scenery exists within many degrees of latitude of the Arctic ocean; and it must, therefore, follow, that no such animals could find the necessary sustenance there, in the present state of the world. This difficulty is, however, easily overcome by those who insist on the mammoth having been a native of the countries where we now find its remains. For they immediately change the position of the globe, and endeayour to show, that what are now the frozen poles, were made so by some unexplained convulsion, after having en joyed all the luxuries of a tropical climate ; and they further endeavour to prove, that this convulsion must have been quite sudden, as the flesh and blood of this fossil elephant were still preserved entire. The supposed suddenness of this sup posed convulsion, however, proves more than is demanded or desired by these theorists ; for, if this elephant, together with the very great number of elephants and rhinoceri, whose re mains are found in such quantities all over the frozen zone, were suddenly encased in ice, and thus, from that instant, preserved as entire as insects found in amber, why is it that we do not find, in the descriptions of these icy masses, any mention made ofthe quantities of vegetable productions amongst which they must have lived, and which would equally have been preserved in the most perfect manner1? We should, in such a case, have expected to have found, on the shores of the icy ocean, a complete antediluvian herbal, which would have settled aU discussions respecting fossil vegetables found in other parts of the earth. We can in no way con ceive a convulsion taking place, to produce suddenly, such effects as exist at the poles, without freezing up, and preserv ing entire, the forests and jungles, as well as the wild beasts contained in them : nor is it in the least degree probable, that the elephants and rhinoceri would have been singled out for preservation, amongst all the numerous species of animals which inhabited the same forests as themselves, whilst al most every other creature was suffered to escape. " There is not," says Pallas, " in all Asiatic Russia, from the Don, to the extremity of the promontory of Tchutchis, a stream or river, in the banks of which thay do not find ele phants, and other large animals, now strangers to that cli mate."! We no where hear, however, of either fossjl or recent luxuriance of vegetation in these inhospitable regions, nor have we the smallest ground to conclude, that they have ever been less rigid than they now are, since the creation of the world ; nor, consequently, that elephants, or other tropi cal productions, animal or vegetable, could ever have found subsistence there for a single day : nor will the undisputed fact of an elephant having hair on its body, afford us any conviction of its ever having inhabited so cold a climate : for though most of the present known species have but little hair, many of the most shaggy animals aTe natives of the tropics. Pallas, in his Memoir on the remarkable fossils with which Siberia abounds, describes having there discovered an entire rhinoceros, the skin and flesh of which were pre served in ice, in the same manner as the specimen of the mammoth which we have now been considering : but we do not find that this specimen was covered with a coat of hair. Nor is it likely that so unusual a circumstance, had it existed, would have escaped particular remark and descrip tion by this philosopher. 87 To those who have well considered the condition of the earth at the period of the deluge, which has been so lately discussed, there can be no difficulty in accounting for the numerous fossil remains of tropical plants and animals C'.XTV were found, more or less, in the upper strata of the globe ; and that such remains should have been preserved entire in the frozen regions, towards which, I have shown,-they would naturally be carried by some of the currents of the ocean, is only a consequence to be as naturally expected from such transportation. We must feel satisfied, that the elephant and rhinoceros would be, of all animals, the most likely to float longest, from their great bulk, and the strength and thickness of their skin.* If we follow the track which such ' large floating bodies must have taken, in a current flowing directly from the tropical to the northern latitudes ; and if we consider that a very few weeks would, at the utmost, be neces sary for their transport, as has been shown by the passage of a vessel, carrying little sail, over nearly 4000 miles in a similar course, in eleven days, we shall feel convinced of the possibility of their having been, in many instances, lodged in the icy regions of the north, with their skins entire, and their flesh and blood, consequently, preserved.. That those regions were then as cold as at 'the present day, is distinctly proved by the condition of the bodies themselves, which, with their icy covering, must be in exactly the same state as when embedded four thousand years ago. Why is it only in the colder regions that the flesh of these animals has been preserved, while in Britain, and in the other temperate climates, nothing but the bones remain, and generally in a detached and broken state ? It is clear, that in the one case, the higher temperature of the soil has caused the decompo sition of the softer parts ; while in the other, the frozen state of the earth, at the depth of a foot or two, even in the heat of the short summers, has prevented decay ;f and it must be equally evident, to an unprejudiced mind, that, in the course and prevalence of the waters upon the earth, and in so com plete a wreck of animated beings, numberless bodies of every kind must have sunk and gone to pieces, and have become subject to the same laws of gravity and of fluids, by which we have seen that all movable bodies become classed and arranged in the bed of the ocean ; while those that were floated off by more rapid portions of the currents, reached a higher latitude in a more entire state, where their subsequent preservation must have depended upon the temperature of the climates, where they became embedded. It appears certain, then, that on the subsiding of the waters of the deluge into their new bed, the floating bodies, in the northern regions, niust have been stranded on the gravelly and sandy bottom of what was formerly the bed of the antediluvian sea; that they were, in many cases, sunk at various depths in this soft soil, agitated as its surface must have been by the slowly retiring waters; that the inclemency of the north soon congealed into ice the moisture that was not quickly drained off upon the surface ; and that the bodies so hermetrically sealed up, have remained in the precise con dition in which they chanced to be, not only until our days, but will be preserved for any length of time, unless brought within the action of the atmosphere by the mechanical fric tion of rivers, or by other natural causes. It is also certain, that all other embedded bodies, sucK as vegetable produc- * I have seen the highly interesting portion ofthe skin and hair of this specimen, which was sent to Sir Joseph Banks, and is now in the museum of the Royal College of Surgeons in London. The skin is fully half an inch in thickness, in its dry and hard state, and must have originally been nearly an inch thick, and of prodigious strength. The hair is of three kinds, probably taken from different parts of the body. The longest is about a foot in length, of the nature ot a thick bristle, and black in colour. The tufts of the second are of a dark chesnut colour, about four or five inches ong, and of about the coarseness of the mane of a horse. The third kind of hair is of a dirty yellowish tint, and not more than about an inch long, closely covering the skin at the roots of the longest coat Upon the whole, this hair presents us with the idea of a very rough and shaggy ani mal, of a dark brown, or chesnut colour, approaching to blact, and which must, indeed, have exhibited a frightful appearance. •J- Keliq. Diluv. p. 185. ? In Siberia, there are found the fossil remains of buffaloes, of a very great size, and said to be larger than any existing known spe cies. But this latter fact we have every reason to doubt. Mankind are at all times fond of the marvellous ; and without recent bones, with which to make the comparison,those of the fossil buffaloe must appear very great. The fact is, that there are few quadrupeds of a more unwieldy growth, than the full grown buffaloe in its native tropical climate. t In the frozen regions, and near the poles, the heat of the sun, even during an unceasing day of several months duration, has so little power, that, at whatever depdis trials have been made, the fissures in the rocks have always been found filled with ice, as eternal as that on the tops of the highest mountains. M. Patrin, who spent many years in Siberia, found this to be the case, on descending the mines-of that country. " The antiseptical effect of cold, in the polar countries, on animal and vegetable substances, is such as to preserve them unchanged for a period of many years. An instance corroborative of this remark, is given by M. Bleau, who in his Atlas Historique, informs us, that the bodies of seven Dutch seamen, who perished in Spitzbergen, in 1635, were found twenty years afterwards in a perfect state, not having suffered the smallest degree of putrefaction." — " Wrod, and other vegetable substances are preserved in a similar manner. Things of this nature have been met with in Spitzbergen, which have resisted all injury from the weather during the lapse of a cen tury." — Scoresby's Arct. Reg. vol. ii. p. 344. 88 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. tions, would have been equally well preserved, both in substance, and in colour, had they existed ia any great quan tity, as in their natural soils ; and, that as no such vegetable productions are found jn the ice of the north, we must con clude, that tlfeTlibrthern regions never were different incli- mate from what they are at present ; and, consequently, that they have -always been equally unfitted for the support of both the animal and vegetable world.* The conclusion at which we thus unavoidably arrive, with respect to any one fossil body, in the condition of the mam moth in ice, at the mouth of the Lena, involves the history of almost all the fossil remains of quadrupeds found in the alluvial soils in every quarter of the world. For if we can, in any one instance, prove that a production of a southern lati tude has been transported to one very far to the north, in so short a space of time as to have its most destructible parts perfectly preserved, we cannot stop short in our conclusions : we cannot suppose that to be a solitary instance. On the contrary, we must attribute all fossil remains, both of ani mals and vegetables, now found in climates uncongenial to them, to the powerful agency of the same mechanical law. What, then, becomes of the lions, tigers, hyasnas, elephants, crocodiles, tortoises, and other animals of tropical regions, whose remains are now found in every land indiscriminately, and often in confused heaps, deeply buried, in what was once the muddy sediment of a deluge, but now hardened into calcareous or other secondary rocks, and worked into cavities probably in the course of dessication 1 Are we to conclude, from the entire elephant found near the pole, which we feel satisfied could not have lived within many degrees of latitude of where his remains were discovered, that all the polar and temperate latitudes of the earth were once inhabited by a class of beings now unnatural to them 1 or because palm trees and cocoa nuts are now found, in a fossil state, in the .strata of Britain, that they formerly grew there?-)- No. We are forcibly and irresistibly drawn to a directly opposite con clusion, by the concurrent evidence both of history, and of physical facts. We must feel a conviction, as strong as is possible, in any case, of which we have not had occular proof, that the same mechanical power which transported the mammoth of the Lena from its natural climate, to its icy bed in the frozen zone, must have also brought along with it, all the various fossil productions found in climates which would now be uncongenial to their support.^: By the same line of reasoning, we are led to the solution of what has been one of the leading subjects of diseussion amongst philosophers for the last century ; that is, the re markable accumulation of fossil remains at Monte Boica, near Verona, in Italy. This deposit may certainly be regard ed as one of the most interesting now known ; and from the attention -which has been paid to it, and the care and expence bestowed upon the collection of its fossil treasures, there are few with which we are better acquainted. The district, of ~ It is much to be regretted, that the countries in which these most interesting and well-preserved specimens of fossil animal re mains are alone to be found, are so situated, as to be beyond the convenient reach of philosophic eyes. For, although we only hear of the huge remains of the larger animals, because they naturally make the greatest impression upon the uncivilized peasants who dis cover them, there can be no doubt that the frozen regions must contain many other equally interesting and highly preserved remains, lodged by the diluvial currents: and it is probable, that if any journey were undertaken to the shores of the Frozen Ocean, for the express purpose of such research, the discoveries would amply repay the enterprise and trouble bestowed on the undertaking. + Upwards of 500 kinds of 'seeds and fruits, many of which are now confined to tropical climates, have been found in the diluvial de posits in the Isle of* Sheppey, on the Thames ; and they are there associated with numbers of animal remains, of elephants, and other tropical quadrupeds. In Professor Buckland's collection, at Ox ford, there are tossil and recent cones, of immense size ; the form er from the Portland quarries, the latter from a tropical climate. f; " In the valley of the Arno, parts of the skeletons of at least a hundred hippopotami have been discovered. With these were also found, in great abundance, the remains of rhinoceros and elephant, together with those of horses, oxen, several, species of deer, hyaena, hear, tiger, fox, wolf, mastodon, hog, tapir, and beaver ; they are from animals of all ages, and oue of the elephants could not have been a week old."- — ReUquix Diluv. p. 182. The latter part of the above passage, respecting an elephant of not more than a week old, is probably intended as conclusive evidence of its having been born in Italy. But it is.obvious, that the over whelming calamity which deprived its mother of life, in a tropical climate, could not be expected to respect its tender age, but would on the contrary, transport its remains to the latitude of the banks of the Arno, with as little difficulty or pity, as those of the still smaller animals, whose remains are now associated with it which Boica forms a part, is calcareous, ahd the quarries in which the most remarkable impressions of fish are found, consist of a stone of a schistose structure, and susceptible of being split into laminaa, or flags, of various dimensions. It is called, by mineralogists, a marl, or- marley schist, and is of a yellow, white, or bluish gray colour. The most remarkable fossils of this deposit consist offish, in a highly preserved state. In some collections that have been made from these quarries, there are from 600 to 800 specimens of various sorts, and of every size, "from being almostinvisible, up to four feet in length. Some of the spe cies, which have, in all, been calculated at about 70, are re cognized as being fish of the Mediterranean sea ; others have been supposed to be now peculiar to the Pacific, and other southern waters. Some, however, are totally unknown. This extraordinary deposit of fish has been the occasion of much speculation, and of many theories amongst naturalists, to account for its present elevation above the sea ; and, like that of elephants in the polar regions, authors have endeav oured to account for it in various ways. The most generally received opinion is, though opposed by the most glaring in consistencies, that, as a fish could not be so well preserved as those of Monte Boica, unless thrown into their present position in a sudden manner, their destruction must have been occasioned by a submarine volcano, before the great revolu tion happened, by which the present lands of Italy became elevated above the present seas.* It has been too often the custom to resort to volcanic agency, with regard to Italy in general, and to any such difficulties as were occasioned by Monte Boica, in particular. The fact is, that few countries present more calcareous appearances than Italy; the greater part of the whole ridge of the Apennines, is composed of limestone and marbles of various kinds ; and the existence of volcanic action, in such extensive secondary formations, as are found in Italy, exactly corresponds with what has been already remarked respecting volcanoes in general, and Iceland in particular, in an early part of this treatise. But about Verona, the whole country is calcareous, and Monte Boica is admitted to be so, notwithstanding the above mentioned com mon opinion. But we are led to the solution of this fossil mystery,, by the same'- steps which guide us in our researches in other countries ; and we thus find that. Monte Boica is only peculiar in the quantity and beauty of its specimens, and not in -the manner in which they were deposited. When we hear of Monte Boica, the idea of petrified fish instantly presents itself to the mind, so nuich more numerous are they, than other fos sils. But other fossils, nevertheless, exist; and such as are totally inconsistent with volcanic origin, under the waters of the sea. The bones of huge elephants, stags, and bears, and likewise those of the intermediate tribe, the phocse, have been discovered ; besides many terrestrial plants, birds, and insects. Here are evidences of diluvial origin, as clear as can be produced from any region of the earth ; and the presence of the bones of elephants, or of other large quadrupeds, such as are found in the polar regions,. surrounded, as in this instance, by marine animals, connect the two in a manner the mostcon- clusive, and tend to the same point to which the Geology of Scripture, in all its parts, so consistently leads us. It is not, therefore, necessary, in such individual cases as we are now considering, to account for the accidental circumstances, which must have occasioned, in one instance, a preponder ance of terrestrial, and in another, that of marine animal re mains, in detached deposits. It is sufficient for the support of the general system which we are now considering, that, Amongst other proofs that the deposits in Monte Boica were caused by a sudden revolution, we find an instance quoted, of a fish having another in its mouth, yetunswallowed; while others have the undigested remains of the stomach still visible. Had those instan ces related to land animals, instead of to fishes, who were naturally enjoying then- own proper element, up to the very moment when the tides or the currents caused them to be suddenly overwhelmed by the muddy diluvial sediments, we should have at once acknowledged the force of the conclusion. But we have, in this, a remarkable proof, that a great proportion of the inhabitants of the deep must have been preserved alive at a time when almost all productions of the land were consigned to destruction. Had not this been the case, we must have found the fossil impressions of fish, in almost everv direction, in our diluvial strata. But it is a well known fact, that fish, though abundant in some particular spots, are by no means com mon as fossils. In Dr. Buckland's fine cabinet of fossils there is a good impression of a part of a large fish, with the scales' of an un digested meal visible through the ribs. I believe this specimen is from shotover, near Oxford, which has never been looked upon as a sudden formation. * GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 89 m almost all instances of fossil remains of quadrupeds, the two are more or less blended together, and in a manner to lead to trie instant convictl0n, that sea and land productions had, by some means or other, become indiscriminately confused ; and that they were thus left in a dry state by the retiring waters, the action and circulation of which had been the agent in this unnatural combination. The Mosaic History is alone capa ble of clearing up the obscurity of such phenomena; and it does clear away all difficulties in a manner the most satisfac tory to the reason and understanding. _ It may almost be considered unnecessary to proceed further in the production of proofs of diluvial effects upon animal and vegetable productions at this eventful period. But our own country presents so many examples ofthe highest inter est, which are in a great degree unknown to general readers, that some further account of them may be desirable. All geologists are well acquainted with the rich mine of fossil remains along the east coast of England ; and especially in the counties of Essex, Suffolk, Norfolk, and Lincoln. An account of those on the coast' of Norfolk has been kindly communicated to me by the Rev. James Layton, of Catfield, in that county, now resident at Sandwich, a distinguished collector of such fossil treasures ; and as this account will serve to throw a great additional light upon the effects of di luvial action now under consideration, I shall proceed to lay it before my readers. After describing the strata of blue clay, locally called mud cliffs, of which an interesting section is presented along that coast, exhibiting, in the clearest manner, the violent effects of some diluviul eddy, at that particular point, by the action of which the intermixture and contortions of the strata, as they were formed, took place ; Mr. Layton proceeds as follows : " One remarkable feature in this compact blue clay, is a stratum of wood, exhibiting the appearance of a wood over thrown, or crushed in situ. ' AtPaling, the stumps oftreesseem now to be really standing ; the roots are strong, spread abroad, and intermingling with each other : were a torrent to sweep away the mould from the surface of a thick wood, leaving the roots bare in the ground, the appearances would be exactly the same. This phenomenon occurs again at Hasborough, the line of crushed wood, leaves, grass, &c, frequently forming a bed of peat, extends just above low water mark. About this stratum are found numerous remains of mammalia : the horns and bones of at least four kinds of deer ; the ox, the horse, hippopotamus, rhinoceros, and elephant. These fos sil remains are found at Hasborough, and its neighbourhood, on the denuded clay shoTe : at Mundesley they are found in the cliff. The great mine, however, is in the sea, some miles from land, where there is an oyster bed, on a stratum of gravel, about six fathoms deep. The sea gains rapidly on this coast ; two yards at least every year. We may, there fore, conclude, that the land once extended considerably be yond that bed ; and that the stratum of fossils was left, be cause they were hard and heavy, while the mud and sand have been carried into deeper water. "How far this bed of fossils extends, I cannot pretend to say; but in 1826, some fishermen, while dredging for soles on ' the Knowl,' a bank twenty miles off shore, brought up an en tire tusk of an elephant, which is now in my possession ; it is nine feet six inches long, one foot nine inches in its great est circumference, and weighs 97 pounds. It is cornuform, and exactly resembles the tusks of the mammoth, said to have been found in the ice in Siberia.* The elephants must have been abundant. I have at least 70 grinders, of all sizes, from four laminae to twenty ; and so various in their features, that, at first, I fancied I could distinguish a dozen different species ; but I now believe that they all belong to the same, and that most resembling the Asiatic. Those which I now have, are reserved from more than two hundred, which have been in my possession ; and the oyster dredgers reported, that they had fished up immense quantities, and thrown them into deep water, as they greatly obstructed their nets. Amongst these fossils, that is, from the oyster-bed, are some supposed to be of a species of the whale. " In 1820, an entire skeleton of the Geeat Mastodon was found at Horstead, near Norwich, lying on its side, stretched * The largest specimen of a fossil tusk that I have seen or heard of, it in the eabinet of Dr. Buckland, at Oxford, and was found at Rome. Is is but a small portion of what the whole has been, being not more than about two feet long; but, from its great size and straightness, it must have been of prodigious length, and of nearly four hundred weight. Its diameter is about 10 inches, and in its present decayed state it much resembles a piece of fossil timber. Vol. II.— M out, between the chalk and the gravel. A grinder was brought to me, (it is still in the possession of Dawson Turner, .Esq. of Yarmouth ;) but so long after it was discovered, that scarcely any other part of the animal could be preserved. The whole had been carried away with the chalk, and burnt for lime, or spread in minute fragments over the fields.* " Perhaps, I should also tell you, that upon this compact blue clay, so rich in fossils, is generally, but not constantly, a stratum of light blue clay, varying in thickness up to four feet : this is always delicately laminated ; often having the appearance of the leaves of a book when pressed on one side. Above this are sand, (frequently stratified,) brown clay, gravel, and chalk rubbish, intermingled, or alternating, and surmounted by a deep rich soil. These upper beds occa sionally present fossil shells, probably from the crag stra tum." It is scarcely necessary to make any remark on the inter esting and corroborative evidence of diluvial action, presented to us throughout every word of this singular and distinct account. We here have everything that the imagination can require, in painting the effects of a great diluvial eddy, collecting in its vortex an indiscriminate mixture of floating animal, vegetable, and marine productions, from every climate under heaven. The description of the washed state of the roots of the trees is particularly striking, as every one, who has seen a high land flood, bearing along its vegetable booty, must be familiar with the appearances which these fossil forests exhibit. But instead of single trees, we must endeavour to present to the mind's eye such floating and matted forests, as the wilds of America could still produce, in the event of a renewal of so awful a calamity ; we must enlarge our views, in considering such vast effects ; and imagine this portion of the diminishing waters of the deluge to be com pletely charged with a floating mass of objects, collected by the currents from " the four winds." We must endeavour to conceive, what mortal eye never saw, nor ever can see ; and we shall then be fully able to elucidate and unravel the mystery which has so long overshadowed this awfully grand subject. The whole scene now presents itself to the imagi nation ; and we are thus led to a period in the history of our native land, when its soft and chalky surface, for the first time, showed itself above the level of the waters ; and when all its valleys and its basins first became the depositories of what we have so long speculated upon in darkness and in error, under the guidance of a false and theoretical philoso phy. The same level of the waters, which deposited this mingled mass of organic destruction on the coasts of modern Norfolk, must have been extended over the whole of the south of England, and, also, over by far the greater part of the north. If we consider, on the great scale, the general structure of this southern portion of England, and follow out the formation of the chalk on which all these animal remains and diluvial strata repose, and below, or in which no quadruped, or vegetable substance has ever yet been discovered, we shall find, that from that very shore of Norfolk, and of the neighbouring counties of Suffolk, of Essex, and of Kent, ramifications of chalk, in the form of high bare downs, stretch from east to west, across the whole of this part of the kingdom ; and in three well defined ridges, are known by the names of the Oxfordshire Hills, the Surrey Hills, and the Sussex Downs. Between each of these hilly ridges, on which little or no soil is to be found, excepting in the dips or hollows, which are invariably filled with strati fied diluvial clay and, gravel, we find extended plains of the richest soils, often of a depth which cannot easily be pene trated, and containing abundant animal and vegetable testi monies to their formation having taken place at the same destructive period when the strata of Norfolk became so charged with animal debris. To the north of the Oxford shire hills, (one part of which, called Nettlebed, is consid ered the highest point of England, south ofthe Trent,)~we find, in the vale of Oxford itself, numerous instances of the common diluvial strata, in the form of deep soil, gravel, clay of various kinds, and stratified rocks of a calcareous description, full of sea shells. In one of these strata, the quarries opened up on the rising ground at Shotover, a few miles from Oxford, furnish a rich treasure of fossil animal remains ; and it was from this place that one of the Saurian, or Crocodile tribe, was lately pro cured for the cabinet of Professor Buckland, on one of the bones of which a large oyster is seen attached, together with * For a further account of this fossil, see Chapter 12. 90 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. two fine ammonites, in their natural position. Those speak ing witnesses of marine action could not have been produced on this fresh water animal, without its having been, for some time, subjected, like the bones of the mammoth mentioned by Cuvier, to the waters in which they naturally dwelt. Now, if we suppose the level of the sea to have gradually, and in the course of weeks, sunk from the heights at Nettle- bed, drifting off, as it fell, every movable substance, either animal, vegetable or mineral, into the lower levels, where they were submitted to the lateral action of the tides, and, consequently, arranged in stratified order, as has been before fully explained, and as always must happen in such cases ; we shall have a clear and well defined idea of the effects observed in this and every other vale or plain in the south of England, formed almost invariably of the same materials and structure. By this means, we have a distinct concep tion of the London basin, situated between these same Oxfordshire hills, and the ridge of those of Surrey, to the south. By this means, we learn how the rich wealds of Kent, and of Sussex, came to be formed of such unfathomable depth of blue clay, marl, sand-stone, iron-stone, &e. ; all reposing, in alternate strata, upon the chalk, which there can be no doubt extends below, from the Sussex Downs to the Surrey hills ; and from these latter again, to those of Oxfordshire.* By extending this line of reasoning to other parts of our own native country, and from thence carrying the mind's eye over the plains of France, of Germany, of Europe, and of the rest of the world, there is at once a full conviction presented to the reason, ofthe manner in which such uniform effects have been produced by so universal and prevailing a cause. The basins of Paris, of London, and of the Isle of Wight, so long the subjects of blind speculation and of error, must all have then received their load of fossil trea sures ; and then, also, might be seen the inflated and colossal forms of the animal kingdom, bending their gradual but certain courses towards their present icy beds in the Polar regions. The work of destruction had at length been consummated ; and the new dry lands were now to assume those forms and qualities, which experience shows us are so happily suited to the wants and comforts of postdiluvian generations. CHAPTER XI. The Cave of Kirkdale. — Dr. Buckland's Theory founded on its Fossil Remains. — Contradictory Nature of this Theory. — Fossil Bones from the Hymalaya Glaciers, and from the Heights of South America. — Natural mode fur accounting for them. — The Habits of the Elephant. — His most perfect form. — His love of the Water, and of a swampy and woody Country. — Habits of the Rhinoceros. — Cuvier's Opinion of Fossil Remains. — Inconsistency of this Opinion. — Evidence of Astronomy. — Evidence from Fossil Trees. — Conclusive Nature of this Evidence. — Evidence derived from Peat Moss. — Foot-marks of Antediluvian Animals.— Scratches occasioned by the Diluvial Action. — Formation of Valleys. — Scripture alone capable of explaining these Evidences. There probably never has appeared any geological work, that excited so much attention and interest at the time of its publication, as the Reliquix Diluvianw of Professor Buck- land ; in which that excellent and learned geologist endea vours to account for the fossil remains found in our own island, of quadrupeds which are now confined to much more southern latitudes. * The form and structure of the weald of Kent and Sussex, are, indeed, truly worthy of our most attentive observation. In out ward form, there is the greatest variety of hill and dale, without, however, in almost any instance, being provided with the brooks or rivers, which, in other circumstances, we should look for as certain in every hollow. This peculiarity is obviously occasioned by the nature and extent of the prevailing clay, which, in many instances, is unfathomable. It is not a little singular, that coal has not yet been discovered in the wealds of Kent ; for, as the soils and strata are almost every where identical with those of many of our richest coal fields, there can be no reason given for its absence from the iron and sand stone strata which so much abound, than that the diluvial waters, in this particular locality, were not charged with the same floating vegetable masses which they have deposited in such abun dance in other more favoured places. It is with the most sincere respect for the well-known talents of Professor Buckland, that I consider it a duty, in this place, and while considering this part of my subject, to advance any thing in opposition to one whose opinions are so influential in the geological world. But the whole theory, under the impression of which that work is written, is so directly opposed to what has now been advanced, that I feel it due to myself, as well as to my readers, to make some observations upon it ; not only in the fair support of an op posite argument, but for the sake of advancing, in at least a nearer degree, towards the same great end, to which all such inquiries ought invariably to point. After describing the remarkable and indiscriminate mixture of fossil bones, found in a eave at Kirkdale, in Yorkshire, in 1821, Dr. Buckland proceeds with the following remarks upon the general theory of the fossil remains of quadrupeds. " It was probable, even before the discovery of this cave, from the abundance in which the remains of similar species occur in superficial gravel beds, which cannot be referred to any other than diluvial origin, that such animals were the antediluvian inhabitants, not only of this country, but gene rally of all those northern latitudes in which their remains are found : the proof, however, was imperfect, as it was possi ble they might have been drifted or floated hither by the waters, from the warmer regions of the earth ; but the facts developed in this charnel-house ofthe antediluvian forests of Yorkshire, demonstrate that there was a long succession of years in which the elephant, rhinoceros and hippopotamus, had been the prey ofthe hyaenas, which, like themselves, in habited England at the period immediately preceding the formation of the diluvial gravel ; and ;/ they inhabited this country, it follows as a corollary, that they also inhabited all those other regions of the northern hemisphere, in which similar bones have been found under precisely similar cir cumstances, not mineralized, but simply in the state of grave bones, imbedded in loam, or clay, or gravel, over great part of northern Europe, as well as North America and Siberia." " It is in the highest degree curious to observe, that four of the genera of animals, whose bones are thus widely dif fused over the temperate, and even over the polar regions of the northern hemisphere, should at present exist only in tropi cal climates, and chiefly south of the equator ; and that the only country in which the elephant, rhinoceros, hippopotamus and hyaena, are now associated, is in southern Africa. In the immediate neighbourhood of the Cape, they all live and die together, as they formerly did in Britain ; whilst the hippo potamus is now confined exclusively to Africa, and the ele phant, rhinoceros and hyaena, are diffused widely over the continent of Asia. " To the question which here so naturally presents itself, as to what might have been the climate of the northern hem isphere, when peopled with genera of animals, which are now confined to the warmer regions, it is not essential to the point before me to find a solution. My object is, to establish the fact, that the animals lived and died in the regions where their remains are now found, and were not drifted thither by the diluvial waters from other latitudes." In the Edinburgh Philosophical Journal, (in 18&7,) a letter was published by Dr. Buckland, which he had received from Colonel Sykes, on the subject of hyaenas dens in India; and the object of this publication was, to show the solidity of the foundation on which the professor's theory of the Kirkdale cave was built. This letter from India gives the exact de scription which we should naturally expect, of the earth, or hole of a carnivorous animal. A good many bones were found in it ; but not more in proportion to the size of the animal, and the prey on which he usually feeds, than we always find in a fox's hole in our own country. I have lately had the pleasure of conversing with Colonel Sykes, and of discussing this, and other subjects of equal interest, connected with a tropical climate, and of the animals natural to it. His de scription of the hyaena is any thing but favourable to the theory of the cave of Kirkdale, even supposing that we had no stronger ground on which to combat it. He considers that the hyaena does not live in a gregarious manner; on the contrary, he never but once saw three full grown animals in the same hole ; and he supposes that one of them was a younw one, not yet expelled from the family, which always happens as soon as the young arc able to shift for themselves. This is the well known habit of foxes and of wolves, between which, and the hyaena, there seems to be considerable simi larity of character. Colonel Sykes inclines to think that they do not live so much in caves of a large size, as in fissures and burrows similar to fox earths ; and that it is probable GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. v^'n^iA0,1101 haunt,even Aese, except when they have young, but he out in the open country, or in the woods, as wolves are known to do. • whiihth? ^ Wu lch C°l0nel Sykes laid °Pen* he chose one, Tstah^f Ti!tS b6atenJand used appearance, seemed a well b! f„. f *Tt! ?"d ln SUch a C0Ulitl7 ™ I*""*, if such a ,nTh ? disturbed, or destroyed, it is probable that it may be so tenanted for many successive years. There was, however, no unusual quantity of bones; and such as were found, were of a very recent character. The abundance of teeth was entirely wanting; nor could I learn that there were any indications of hyamas, who haddiedofoldage,hayias been devoured by their own species. The learned professor then proceeds to state the differences of opinion that exist, on the subject of climate, amongst the highest authorities, and he mentions the opinion of Cuvier, that these animals probably had a constitution adapted to endure the rigours of a northern winter, which opinion was supported (and indeed was probably formed) by the " large quantity of wool" found, with the skeleton of an elephant, discovered in 1771, in the frozen gravel of Vilhoui. He proceeds, however, with much candour, to state the opposing objections to such an idea, and to destroy both his own and Cuvier's theory, upon the very natural and unan swerable principle, that food could not have been found in those rigorous climates, proper for the sustenance of such large animals: he proceeds as follows; "for though the elephant and rhinoceros, if clothed in wool, may have fed themselves on branches of trees and brushwood, during the extreme severities of winter, still I see not how even these were to be obtained in the frozen regions of Siberia, which, at present, produce little more than moss and lichens, which, during great part of the year, are buried under impenetrable ice and snow ; yet it is in those regions of extreme cold, on the utmost verge of the now habitable world, that the bones of elephants are found, occasionally crowded together in heaps, along the shores of the icy sea, from Archangel to Behring's Straits, forming whole islands, composed of bones and mod, at the mouth of the Lena, and encased in ice,* from which they are melted out by the solar heat of the short sum mer, along the coasts of Tungusia, in sufficient numbers to form an important article of commerce." — Reliq. Diluv. p. 46. In concluding this fundamental part of his subject, on which, indeed, Dr. Buckland had before admitted that his whole theory entirely depended, he proceeds: "Between these two conflicting opinions," (viz. either that of Cuvier, that the animals had a constitution fitted to a colder climate; or that of other philosophers, who supposed the climates, now so inclement, to have been formerly warm, and the change to have suddenly taken place by an alteration in the inclination of the earth's axis, or by the near aproach of a comet ;f) "between these two conflicting opinions, we are compelled," says Dr. Buckland, " to make our choice ; there seems to be no third or intermediate state with which both may be compatible. It is not, however, my purpose to dis cuss the difficulties that will occur on both sides, till the further progress of geological science shall have afforded us more ample information, as to the structure of our globe ; and have supplied those data, without which all opinions that can be , advanced on the subject must be premature, and amount to no more than plausible conjectures. At present, I am con cerned ONLY TO ESTABLISH TWO IMPORTANT FACTS ; first, that there has been a recent and general inundation ofthe globe; and, secondly, that the animals, found in the wreck of that inundation, were natives of high northern latitudes, and not 91 drifted to their present place from equatorial regions, by the waters that caused that inundation."— Reliq. Diluv. p. 47. The most remarkable feature in this part of the work of Dr. Buckland, is the very loose, and even contradictory rea soning, to be found throughout the above quotations. In one part, he considers it as positively proved, that the animals, whose bones are now found in Yorkshire, inhabited England " at a period immediately preceding the formation of the di luvial gravel in which they are embedded ;" and that " if they inhabited England, it followed as a corollary, that they also inhabited all the other regions ofthe north, in which simi lar bones have been found ;" and yet he soon after states, that he " cannot see how even branches of trees and brushwood were to be obtained for their support, in climates now pro ducing nothing but moss and lichens, which are covered with impenetrable ice during the greater part of the year." The fact is evident, that the contradictory difficulties of such a theory were not concealed "from the searching mind of the learned professor; who, however, leaves the whole ques tion precisely in the same unstable condition, in which the mind is left bewildered by the theories of first formations by secondary causes. He admits the evident and close connexion between the fossil remains of quadrupeds, found in all coun tries; but though he sees the utter hopelessness of ever being able to provide the necessary food for elephants in the polar regions, he yet casts aside this insuperable difficulty, and twice presses the two important facts he is most concerned to prove, regardless of the contradiction in which he must, unavoidably, become involved in the attempt. I cannot agree with the learned professor, that the subject of climate, and, consequently, of food, was of secondary importance in the support of his theory; and there surely may be better means of " establishing the fact, that animals lived in the regions where their remains are now found," than by showing the impossibility of their finding the necessary food, which the professor not only perceived, but very candidly admitted.* But the above reasoning of Dr. Buckland must appear the more remarkable, from his having, in a subsequent part of the Reliquiae Diluvianae, and in the course of most ably prov ing the inundation of high levels, fully admitted the principle of transportation, or drifting of animal remains, as the only possible means of accounting for the fossil bones found in the high elevations of Asia and America, and in the avalanches from the regions of perpetual snow. " With regard to the bones of animals," says he, " that perished by this great in undation, although they have not yet been discovered in the high Alpine gravel beds of Europe, (which is but a negative fact,) we have, in America, the bones of the mastodon, at an elevation of 7800 feet above the sea, in the Champ des Geauts, near Santa Fe de Bogota; and another species of the same genus in the Cordilleras, found by Humboldt at an elevation of 7200 feet, near the volcano of Imbarbura, in the kingdom of Quito. If the animal remains of this era have not yet been discovered at such heights as these, in Europe, let it be recollected, that we have no elevated mountain plains like those in America ; that our highest mountains are but narrow peaks, and ridges of small extent, when compared with the low country that surrounds them ; and that if it were proved (which it is not) that the animals inhabited these highest points, it is more than probable that their carcases would have been drifted off, as the greater mass of their gravel has been, into the lower levels of the adjacent country. "But in central Asia, the bones of horses and of deer have been found at an elevation of 16,000 feet above the sea, in the Hymalaya mountains. f The bones, I am now speaking of, * In order to trace such islands of bones and mud encased in ice, to their true origin, we have only to imagine the same kind of scene as we have just been contemplating on the coasts of Norfolk. And in order to disprove so obvious a cause, or to show that such effects are produced in the common course of things, as some have sup posed, it must be shown in what part ofthe world such deposits ever now take place, and by what possible event the destruction of so prodigious a number of elephants, and other large quadrupeds, could, at any one time, have been effected : for it must be evident, that, had the mud cliffs of Norfolk been formed in the polar regions, we must have had the natural addition of ice, wherever they are now saturated with water. t It wasapartof the theory of La Place, in his Systemedu Monde that the stroke of a passing comet was the most probable cause of the Mosaic deluge. But, at the same time, he endeavours to allay tliose fears which were then, as now, so common, of a repetition of so dreadful an accident, upon the principle of the improbability of such a chance, in so wide a space as the heavenly bodies have to move in. How strange it is to find so great a mind incapable of appre ciating the provident wisdom of an Almighty Creator, and conceiv ing tliat such supposed events were left to the guidance of chance i * " Though the soil of the whole of that remote country (Spitz bergen) does not produce vegetables suitable or sufficient tor the nourishment of a single human being, yet its coasts and seas have afforded riches and independence to thousands." " The only plant I met with in Spitzbergen, partaking of the na ture of a tree, (a salix, allied to the S. herbacea,) grows but to the height of three or four inches. " — Scoresby's Arctic Regions. t Dr. Buckland has given an interesting note from Gilbert's An- nalen, 1821, in which a discovery by Lieutenant Kotzebue is described as follows: "On the western part of the gulf, to the north of Behring's Straits, a mountain was discovered covered with verdure (moss and grass,) composed interiorly of solid ice. On arriving at a' place where the shore rises almost perpendicularly from the sea to the height of 100 feet, and continues afterwards to extend with a gradual inclination, they observed masses of the purest ice 100 feet high, preserved under the above vegetable carpet The soil is only about half a foot thick, and is composed of a mixture of clay, earth and mould. The portion of the cliff exposed to the sun was melting, and send ing much water into the sea. An undoubted proof of tliis ice bein°- primitive (i. e. not formed by any causes now in action) is afforded 92 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. are at the Royal College of Surgeons in London, and were sent home last year (1822,) to Sir Everard Home, by cap tain W. S. Webb, who procured them from the Chinese Tartars of Daba; who assured him that they were found in the north face ofthe snowy ridge of Kylas, in latitude 32 degrees, at a spot which captain Webb calculates to be not less than 16,000 feet high : they are only obtained from masses that fall with the avalanches, from the regions of perpetual snow, and are, therefore, said by the natives to have fallen from the clouds, and to be the bones of genii."* " The occurrence of these bones, at such an enormous eleva tion, in the regions of eternal snow, and, consequently, in a spot now unfrequented by such animals as the horse and the deer, can, I think, be explained only by supposing them to be of antediluvian origin, and that the carcasses of the animals were drifted to their present place, and lodged in sand by the diluvial waters."! " This appears to me the most probable solution that can be suggested ; and should it prove the true one, it will add a still more decisive fact to those of the granite blocks, drifted from the heights of Mont Blanc to the Jura, and the bones of diluvial animals, found by. Humboldt, on the elevated plains of South America, to show that ' all the high hills, and the mountains under the whole heavens, were covered,' at the time when the last great physical change took place, over the surface ofthe whole earth." — Reliquise Diluvians, p. 222. Now, it must be considered not a little singular, that this distinguished writer should at once admit the drifting of ani mal remains into the regions of perpetual snow, occasioned by elevation in the atmosphere ; and, at the same time, deny the same mode of transport to those found in such abundance in the equally unnatural regions of eternal ice, occasioned by their polar elevation. It must be evident, that the two cases are perfectly similar. For, in order to elevate those fossil bodies, found in the mountains of Asia, they must have float ed on the surface of the waters; and, in order to effect the transport of such bodies to high latitudes, there was only re quired that power of currents, which may be (and, I trust, has been,) proved to exist at all times over the whole surface of the ocean. But this is only one of the many difficulties and contradictions which must occur in the course of supporting a theory so wide of the truth. One difficulty, for example, would be removed, with regard to the cave of Kirkdale, and other similar caves, in many parts of Europe, if we could hear, from the Cape, of any one instance of a hyaena's den, furnished in the same remarkable manner as the cave of Kirkdale in Yorkshire ;% and there, surely, could be no great difficulty in doing this in our own colony at the Cape, " in the immediate neighbourhood of which the elephant, rhinoceros, hippopota mus, and hyaena, are now associated, and live and die together, as they formerly did in Antediluvian Yorkshire." We have many anecdotes and amusing accounts of all these animals, in the by the great number of bones and teeth of mammoths, which make their appearance when it is melted. " — Reliq. Diluv. p. 46. * 1 have had much pleasure and the highest interest in the exami nation of these bones ; they appear decidedly to have been embedded in lime-stone rock, of a gray colour ; they are much broken, though not taken from a hyaena's den, and the hollows of some are filled with the most beautiful crystals. In others, these crystals have filled up the whole cavity with pure gypsum, of the whitest colour. It seems, then, probable, that the masses of rock in which they were embedded at the deluge, were torn from their lofty situations by the avalanches, as in our European Alpine heights : the bones are not easily assigned to their proper species,, but one is evidently that of the horse. t Mr. Temple, in his light and amusing sketches of Peru, de scribes some tossil bones lound in the province of Tarija. They proved to be tliose of an animal of the elephant tribe, and probably the mastodon. He says, " It is a subject of interest to inquire how these monstrous animals came into the valley of Tarija, surrounded, as it is, by a mountainous rampart, accessible, as I have been credibly informed, in only four places, and those with great difficulty, even to mules and horses. Over three of those places, the most frequented and most convenient in the whole rocky barrier, I have myself travelled, and certainly I do not think itpossible that any elephant could have there passed." — Travels in Peru, vol. ii. p. 295. $ A collection of the fossil bones of quadrupeds haslately been dis covered in a lime-stone cave in Wellington Valley, in New Holland. One of the bones was submitted to the inspection of the late Baron Cuvier, who ascertained that it was the thigh bone of a young ele phant We thus find tliat this new continent forms no exception to that general rule which is applicable to the other great continents of the earth ; and that, though elephants have not yet been found there in a living state, their fossil remains bear testimony to the same transporting powers, which are so distinctly traced in our own more northern latitudes. travels of that indefatigable sportsman, M. Le Vaillant, in that very part of Africa ; but from his silence, and that of other naturalists, on this alleged habit of hyaenas of amassing, from age to age, the broken remains of the very food they are said to be most fond of, we have the greatest reason to doubt that such a thing ever occurs. Both the elephant and rhinoceros are described by that author as swimming well, and being exceedingly fond of the water ; rolling themselves in swamps for the purpose of defending their bodies from the flies by a thick coating of mud ; and feeding on branches of trees torn from a height which no other animal can reach. But it seems unnecessary to search further into the difficulties and contra dictions in which we become involved by adopting the theory of Dr. Buckland, on this highly important subject. The following observations on the natural history of the Asiatic elephant may be found both amusing and instructive, while we are considering the nature and habits of that race of animals. They are taken from that most amusing work, " The Wild sports of the East," by Captain Williamson; and though the general tenor of that and of similar writings, may, by some, be~ deemed frivolous, and uncongenial to the pur suits of the man of science and the philosopher, yet it must be kept in mind that, however the information obtained from such sources may he digested in the closet, it is from the tented field, with the sportsman and the native savage, that our first knowledge of these noble animals of tropical climates , must originally be derived"; and it may be, with justice, as- ' serted of the beautiful work in question, that if all sportsmen in foreign countries could convey the results of their exhilira- ting pursuits, with the same intelligence and judgment, we should soon have a fund of most instructive information upon many points in natural history, of which we have yet much to learn. Captain Williamson's account of a perfect elephant is as follows : " An elephant should have an arched back, a hroad barrel, the hind quarters full and square, the hind legs short and firm, the toe nails thick and black; and, to please a native, there should be five on each forefoot, and four on each hind foot ; — odd numbers are considered by them unlucky. 1 have known some with 15 nails, which no one would purchase; and I have heard of one with 20; but never saw one with more than 18. The tail should be long, very thick at the insertion, and tapering well towards the end, where it should be well furnished on each side with a row of single hairs, or rather bristles, for about a foot, forming a fork at the end, and resembling the feathers or wings of an arrow. This circumstance respecting the tail is considered by the natives perfectly indispensable ; for a short tail, or a broken one, or a want of hair at the termination, are formidable objections. No man of consequence would be seen on an elephant whose tail was devoid of hair; and particularly if broken short,, as is frequently the case. This latter deficiency is owing to a habit elephants have, in a wild state, of seizing each other by the tail, with their trunks, and twisting them off some times very close to the croup. Even servants of inferior degree are averse to ride on an elephant so blemished. The chest should be wide and full, the fore legs muscular and well turned ; the forehead broad, and ornamented between the eyes, with a protuberance gracefully harmonizing with the surrounding parts. The top of the head should be thickly set with hair, carried high and square ; the trunk thin, and very elastic; the teeth of males should be exactly alike, thick and long ; they should diverge from each other, so as to be rather more distant at the tips, than at the inser tion ; and with a graceful curve. The ears should be large, and free from raggedness at the edges ; the cheeks full ; and, above all things, the eyes clear of specks and rheum." _ An elephant, having all these rare perfections, and from nine to ten feet high, is worth 8 or 10,000 rupees, or up wards of £1000. r " Elephants are generally black ; but few of them entirety so ; many are sprinkled over the ears, trunk, jowl, shoulders, and legs, with dun coloured spots, which are far from dis pleasing. The Nabob Vizier had one, which was called white ; but it was really dun. It was unique in Bengal ; but I have been informed that in Ceylon they are by no means rare." •" " In some years, very few wild elephants can be found near the sea coast, whence they retire into the immense jun gles which he between Chittagong, and the Chinese fron tier. At other times, the coasts are overrun with them, to the utter ruin of the peasants, whose crops and plantations are often destroyed in the course of one night. This gene- GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 93 rally happens in a dry season, when want of water, and of succulent herbage, in the interior, causes the herds to descend to the ever verdant plains bordering the sea, where the diur nal breezes inspire fresh vigour." « " Nature has wisely proportioned her animal to her vege table productions. Thus we find the districts furnishing elephants, replenished with immense tracks of high grass, and abounding in lakes and streams ; without such ample stores, such stupendous animals as the elephant must perish. For, exclusive of the large quantity of grass, &c. which an elephant daily consumes, his broad feet will destroy immense qantities. As to his thirst, which requires both frequent and copious libations, the ordinary puddles, such as furnish a supply for cattle, would by no means answer. The elephant, like the buffaloe^ delights in wallowing, and never thrives so well, as when he is allowed to visit a rapid stream, there to eSercise himself in swimming, as well as to lie immersed in the water." " Chittagong elephants, growing to a much larger size than those to the North, or Nepaul district, and being of a more substantial form, are peculiarly valuable to those who catch elephants with the slip knot, or phaun. The only ob jection is, their want of speed. They are*more healthy after being seasoned to the climate of the Nepaul country, while the native elephants of that northern climate are extremely defi cient, not only in the three grand points, viz. stature, strength and beauty, but in constitution also. Hence they are of much less value than those of Chittagong, Tipperah, and Silhet."* " The Ceylon breed far exceeds that ofthe continent ; and it becomes a curious and interesting question whence Ceylon was first furnished with elephants, there being none on the opposite shores, nor to be found in all the great peninsula, from the west bank of the Ganges to the Persian Gulf! Besides, the generality of the Ceylon elephants are of a brown, or dun colour."' "Elephants are natives of a wet soil, and, in the wild state, feed on very watery aliments. They also take great delight in ranging among swamps." " They rarely exceed nine feet in height. The tallest ever found in Bengal, was the Paugul, or mad elephant, (about 1780). It was nearly 12 feet high; but the medium size is from seven to eight feet." There is no definite mark by which the age of the ele phant can be known. We can only judge by his general appearance. While we are thus instructed, by this active and intelli gent sportsman, on the subject of the elephant in its wild state, I shall here also extract the few particulars he was enabled to give, on the subject of the haunts of the rhino ceros, an animal whose remains are also now found in a fossil state in the northern and temperate regions, and frequently in the same situations, though never in the same abundance as those of the elephant. We shall find that this wild and ¦very mischievous and savage animal is equally a native of the hottest and most wooded countries ; and we, therefore, come to the same conclusion with regard to it, that we have reached with regard to the various races of elephants, viz. that it never could have been the inhabitant of a very cold climate. "The rhinoceros is an animal whose natural history is very imperfectly known. He resides in impervious jungles and swamps ; he is seldom to be found on the west of the Ganges, though the jungles there are fully competent to afford abundant shelter ; nor, indeed, has an elephant ever been seen in a wild state, but to the east of that noble stream. It would seem that these animals are partial to the immense tracts of the surput, or tassel grass, which skirts the vast juno-les bordering our possessions on that side; and which, being composed of lofty forests of saul and sissoo trees, filled up with various sorts of underwood, offer an asylum to the ferine species, such as cannot be equalled in any part of Europe, and can be compared only with the prodigious wilds of the American interior." The rhinoceros is never seen in herds, nor often even in pairs. He may, therefore, be properly termed, like the largest wild boars, and the oldest chamois, a solitaire. We may now shortly pass under review the opinions of the late Baron Cuvier, on the subject of fossil remains. This able philosopher has long been considered the head of the scientific world on the continent; and his indefatigable re search, and wonderful anatomical knowledge, have given him the highest claims to our esteem and regard in many branches of geological research. We have already found, however, that his theories of the earth, and of the numerous revolutions to which he supposed it had been subjected, were notfounded on what history teaches, or physical facts bear witness to ; and, therefore, we cannot be surprised, if we find, on the sub ject of fossil remains, some portion of that contradiction and inconsistency which must always attend a departure, how ever well meant and unintentional, from the direct and simple path of truth. On the subject of the fossil elephant, as published in his " Ossemens Fossiles," vol. i. p. 199, &c. Cuvier designates it "The Mammoth ofthe Russians, (Elephas primigenius, Blum.) or elephant with prolonged cranium, concave fore head, very deep sockets for the tusks ; lower jaw .obtuse ; grinders very large, parallel, and marked with narrow stripes. " The bones of this animal are only found in a fossil state : they are in great numbers in many countries, but better pre served in the north than elsewhere. It resembled the Indian rather than the African species. It differed, however, from the former in the grinders, in the form of the lower jaw, and in many other bones, but especially in the length of the sock ets for the tusks. This latter character must have modified, in a remarkable manner, the form and organization of the trunk, and have given him an appearance much more dissim ilar to the Asiatic elephant, than could be expected from the general resemblance of the rest of the bones. It appears that his tusks were generally large, often more or less bent in a spiral form, and pointing outwards. His size was not much greater than that which the Asiatic race sometimes attains ; and he appears to have had, in general, a more thick and solid form. We cannot determine what was the size of his ears, nor the colour of his skin, but it is certain, that at least some of the species had two sorts of hair; viz. a reddish wool, coarse and bushy, with stiff black hairs, which, upon the neck, and along the back, were pretty long, and formed a sort of mane. " Thus, there is not only nothing impossible in his having been able to support a degree of cold, in which the Asiatic race would die ; but it is even probable, that he was so con stituted, as to prefer cold climates. His bones are usually found in the upper alluvial beds of the earth ; aud most com monly in those which fill the hollows of valleys, or which form the beds of rivers. " They are scarcely ever alone, but pelemele, together with the bones of other quadrupeds of known, kinds, as rhinoceros, ox, antelope, horse, and frequently with the remains of ma rine animals, such as shells, &c, some of which are even fixed upon them. " The positive testimony of Pallas, of Fortis, and of others, admits not of a doubt with respect to this latter circumstance, although it is not invariable. I have now, myself, under my eye, a portion of a jaw, loaded with millepores, and with small oysters.* "The bones of elephants are rarely petrified; and we know of but one or two instances in which they are embedded in shell limestone or other rock." (Such instances are as good as thousands, for the purpose of showing how they become thus embedded.) E very thing, then, announces, that the cause of their des truction was one of the most recent of those events which have contributed to change the surface of the globe. It was, however, a physical and general cause. That cause was an aqueous agent. "But it was not these waters which transported them to the places where they now are. An irruption of the sea, which would only have brought them from where the Indian ele phants now inhabit, could not have spread them to such a distance, nor dispersed them so equally." It would appear from this remark of Cuvier, that he had no belief in the general and total immersion of tbe whole dry * Here we have it distinctly shown, that, even within the tropics, the elephant is in his most natural climate, in the hottest parts ; and if the constitution of the animal, in its wild state, cannot be fully sustained in regions of the most luxuriant vegetation, but subject to occasional slight frosts, how are we to suppose, for a moment, that elephants could have lived in the temperate or frozen regions of the. earth ? *In the splendid collection of fossils of Dr. Buckland, at Oxford, there is a highly interesting specimen of one of the crocodile tribe, obtained from the quarry at Shotover, near that city, and several hundred feet above the level of the sea?; on one of the bones of which there is a large oyster attached ; and also two beautiful and perfect specimens of the ammonite, with the shell entire, and seem ingly fixed to the bone by suction, as a snail adheres to a stone or plant. 94 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. lands of the earth, at the period of the deluge ; and he must, therefore, probably have considered the Mosaic account of " all the hills, upon the whole earth, being covered," as a mere piece of Eastern allegory. Such "irruptions of the sea," as he had in view in the above remark, must have been considered as only partial convulsions, and producing such partial effects as he there alludes to. Had he believed in a general aqueous covering over the whole globe, for the space of several months, and had he then considered the laws of nature, acting, in this flood of waters, on the floating bodies of the animal world, by tides and currents, this able naturalist and philosopher could not but have perceived, that it was only by such means, that so " equal a dispersion" of animal remains could possibly have been effected. After some other equally unsatisfactory reasoning, Cuvier expresses his idea of the impossibility of entire carcasses having been transported to such distances by violence. " It is true," says he, " that in such a case, the bones would have been unworn by friction ; but then they would have re mained together, and not been found so scattered as they now often are. "Every thing then renders it extremely probable, that the elephants to which these fossil bones belonged, inhabited the countries where we now find their remains. They were there scattered, as the bones of horses and of other animals now are, over our own lands, the carcasses of which are found in our fields."* " But, whatever that cause was, it must have been a sud den one. The bones, so perfectly preserved in the plains of Siberia, could only have been so from the effect of cold. If this cold had only come on by degrees and slowly, the bones, and especially the softer parts, would have had time to be come decomposed, like those we now find in our fields." The Temark cannot here be omitted, how contradictory is the reasoning ofthe baron in this place. He first considers, that the bones of the animals must have been scattered over the country, like those of our domestic cattle, in the present day ; and ought to have been " decomposed, like those we now find in our fields ;" and then proceeds to show, that they are not decomposed, but preserved entire by a sudden convulsion, and excessive low temperature. We seldom find, in our own times, and in our inland counties, the bones of cattle covered with oysters, or other sea animals. But if we suppose a bone, or an entire animal, to remain for a few weeks, subject to the action of the tides and of the currents, we should not be surprised at finding upon it, what every piece of floating wreck is generally covered with. " It would have been especially impossible for the carcase seen and described by Mr. Adams, to have preserved its flesh and its skin entire, if it had not been immediately enveloped in the ice in which it was found." We must here pause one moment in our perusal of Cuvier's argument, to consider what effect would have been produced by this sudden forma tion of an icy bed, on the woods and jungles through which this shaggy monster must naturally have been wandering, when embraced and sealed up by so sudden a disaster. The same element which had so preservative an effect upon his unwieldy carcase, must have entirely decomposed or evapo rated the vegetable productions on which he fed ; as they are no where to be found in any part of the frozen regions, even preserved in ice. " Thus," continues he, " the hypothesis of a gradual cooling of the globe, or of a slow variation of its temperature, * I have been informed by Colonel Sykes, than whom we can have no higher authority on such a subject, from his long residence in the East, and the great attention and ability which he has displayed on every subject connected with science, that, as far as his observation goes, it may be looked upon as a striking and extraordinary fact, that in the forests of India, peopled as they are by thousands of ani mals of every size, and of which there must naturally be a consider able annual destruction as well as increase, the bones, or other re mains of the dead, are scarcely ever to be seen. We cannot, indeed, wonder tliat this should be the case, when we consider the laws of nature, by which so just a balance is at all times kept up. In so hot a climate as that of the tropics, the decay of the softer parts mustbe most rapid ; and in order to obviate the bad consequences which would attend this natural course, we find myriads of the insect tribe at all times ready to remove what the birds and beasts of prey can not readily consume. A large animal body, therefore, would almost entirely disappear in the course of a few days ; and even the bones must soon become decomposed under the powerful action of so hot an atmosphere. It is almost proverbial even in our own woods, well stocked as they are with hares and other game, how seldom we dis cover any indication of natural death. In the animal world, in every climate, each individual becomes the prey of his fellow, for " dust we are, and unto dust we soon return." either from inclination, or from the position of its axis, falls to the ground by its mon weight." We may here remark, that this groundless hypothesis was proposed by Buffon, as we have already had occasion to notice. '¦ The various mastodons, hippopotami, rhinoceri, &c, must have inhabited the same countries and the same dis tricts, as the fossil elephants, since we find their bones in the same situations, and in the same condition. One cannot imagine any cause which would have destroyed the one and spared the other. And yet the first, most certainly, no longer exist, as we shall show in subsequent chapters." " The elephant is the existing animal which most resem bles the mastodon ; and may serve as the principle object of comparison. In short, I call mastodon, quadrupeds of the size and form ofthe elephant, having, like him, a trunk, and long tusks ; the feet of the same structure ; and, in a word, only differing in an essential manner in the molar teeth, which, instead of being formed of transversal laminae, had a simple crown, and were furnished with tubercles or rounded points, more or less numerous, and more or less prominent. " Our continents do not now nourish any animals of this exact kind ; although the upper strata contain the bones of three or four different varieties." — Ossemens Fossiles, vol. i. chap. ii. p. 205. Such are the ideas of Baron Cuvier on the subject of the fossil elephant : and as it may be truly said, that the whole question of fossil remains, and, consequently, many of the most important and fundamental points in geology in gene ral, turn upon the true and consistent history of those ele phants now found in northern latitudes, it cannot be considered irrelevant to our purpose, to have gone, at considerable length, into the opinions of some of the great leaders of science on so fundamental a subject. To all who have considered, with an unprejudiced mind, the course and tendency of the arguments which have been urged, in opposition to these generally received theories on the subject of tropical produc tions in polar regions, it must appear unnecessary, in this place, to proceed further with the subject. It has been clearly shown, that no elephant could possibly find subsis tence in those inclement and barren regions at the present time. It is equally clear, that had a sudden change of tem perature, with an irruption of the sea, overwhelmed and frozen up the animal productions of the antediluvian world, in what are now the polar regions, we must equally have discovered, in the ice which has preserved them, a perfect and entire series of the vegetable productions, amongst which, it is admitted, they must have lived, and without which there is no conceivable way of accounting for the supply of food necessary for such vast numbers of gigantic animals. When we add to this incontrovertible point, the consistent and natural method by which those animal bodies might have been transported, by an agent in the common laws of nature, to which the waters of the earth have been subjected by the Creator, for a great and benificent purpose, we cannot retain a doubt as to the actual means by which those larger animals were conveyed to their icy beds in the polar regions ; and having arrived at this conclusion, with respect to those now found within the arctic circle, we have every right to judge, by the same line of reasoning, concerning all other tropical productions in unnatural climates, on every part of the sur face of the earth ; and, consequently, that the globe has undergone no material change in its position, nor in its tem perature, since the creation. Our inquiries have, it is to be hoped, led us to a consistent and natural conclusion on the whole question of fossil re mains; and we thus find, that in adopting the system of geology, grounded on the Inspired History, and so strongly supported by the evidence of physical facts, instead of those philosophical theories, founded on physical facts, but rejecting the evidence of Scripture ; the current of the narrative runs smoothly along, and our minds feel satisfied, and at rest, in stead of being constantly suspended in doubt and uncertainty. If we come to the conclusion, that all the present dry lands of the earth were formerly the bed of the antediluvian sea, and that Britain was no exception to this, (as is evident from the appearances every where visible around us,) it must follow as a corollary, that all the fossil remains of quadru peds, whether in our upper soils, or in the upper strata of rock, over the whole earth, must have been lodged in their present situations by the waters of that destructive deluge, of which we have now been treating.* * Since writing the above, one of the most remarkable works of our times has appeared, in which we find the following passage : — GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 95 SUPPLEMENTARY PART TO CHAPTER XI. Since entering upon the subject of the Geology of Scrip ture, the evidences in support of the general principles, which have been explained in the foregoing chapters, have so crowded upon my observation, that I have experienced some difficulty in confining myself within those limits which -I had previously laid down, in order to bring my work within the compass of one single volume. In a late journey which \ I have had occasion to make throughout a great part of the ^.longitudinal extent of , the kingdom, I have found, in every direction, the most complete corroborative proofs of the solid foundation on which the Scripture system is constructed. Amongst many of these proofs, I cannot resist the present opportunity, of giving some short account of a few of the most remarkable ; the particular importance of which must at once be acknowledged by every candid student in this interesting science. I allude particularly to the subject of entire fossil trees, frequently, of late, discovered in the coal strata; and to that of the foot-marks of animals distinctly * imprinted upon the sand when in a soft state, and discovered on the upper surface ofthe strata in several free-stone quarries. The instances of entire fossil stems of trees, and nume rous smaller plants, have long been remarked in the coal formations in various countries ; and have, also, been noticed in the former part of this work. But the stems of the. larger plants have, hitherto, in general, been observed to lie in the same direction as the strata themselves ; and, consequently, they could afford us little or no indication of the period at which they were embedded, or of the time necessary for their having become surrounded by their present mineral envelope. Late observations, however, have thrown a new and vivid light upon this hitherto obscure subject. Trees, of very considerable size, have been found, placed in a posi tion perpendicular to the direction of the beds or strata, and intersecting many of these, of various kinds and thickness. One of the first that attracted particular notice in the North, was found in Cragleith free-stone quarry, in 1826, where, the different visible strata exist to the extent of 160 feet in depth ; and upwards of 60 feet more are known to lie below, which have not yet seen the light of day. " It appears, from the marine shells found on the tops of the high est mountains, and in almost eveiy part of the globe, that immense continents have been elevated above the ocean, which must have in gulfed others. " Such a catastrophe would be occasioned by a variation in the position of the axis of rotation on the surface of the earth ; for the seas would leave some portions of the globe, and would overwhelm others. But theory proves, that neither nutation, precession, nor any of the disturbing forces which affect the system, have the smallest in fluence on the axis of rotation, which maintains a permanent position on the surface, if the earth be not disturbed in its rotation by some foreign cause, as the collision of a comet, which may have happened in the immensity of time. " The able authoress then proceeds to show how little influence the sea would have, even in such a case, upon the general equilibrium ; and concludes thus, — " It thus ap pears, that a great change in the position of the axis is incompatible ' with the law of equilibrium ; therefore, the geological phenomena (of fossils) must be ascribed to an internal cause. Thus, amidst the mighty revolutions which have swept innumerable races of orga nized beings from the earth, which have elevated plains, and buried mountains in the ocean, the rotation of the earth, and the position of the axis on its surface, have undergone but slight variations. "—Me chanism of ihe Heavens, by Mrs. Somerville. UpOn the above passage, the Quarterly Review has remarked, that " tbe lunar theory teaches us, that the internal strata, as well as the external outline of our globe, are elliptical ; their centres being co incident, and their axis identical with that ofthe surface ; a state of things incompatible with any subsequent accommodation ofthe sur face, to a new and different state of rotation from that which deter mined the original distribution of the component matter.'' — Quar terly Review, lio. xciv. p. 552. Although I cannot subscribe to the doctrine which dictated the latter part of the above remark, nor to the idea of Mrs. Somerville, that the collision of a comet " may have happened in the immensity of time," although, we thus have acknowledged proof against the probability of any such collision, which is, therefore, quite uncalled for ; we must hail, with pleasure, the step that has thus been gained by the admission of so able an authority. The theory of a change in the axis ofthe earth, which was only engendered for the purpose of accounting for tropical productions, in polar latitudes, is, there fore, for ever destroyed ; and we thus arrive at the same point by various different roads. After this concession, that the phenomena of geology must have originated in a cause not external to our earth, we may hope, that the true internal cause will, ere long, be equally admitted. One other such departure from the usual theories of the deluge and the union which is every day approaching, between Philosophy and Scripture, will be at length completed. The stone in this immense quarry is of very white and pure-grained quality, and is the same which we find forming the roof ofthe coal beds in many of the Lothian collieries. It is every where, more or less, marked with impressions of leaves and stems, which are, in this case, however, far from the coal seams, but the latter of which invariably present a thin surrounding mass of the purest jewel coal, generally about a quarter of an inch round the bark ; the whole of the rest of the interior being filled with the same mineral in which it is embedded. These fossil stems aie called, by the miners, coal pipes, ignorant as they are of their real nature. This small portion of the purest coal, serves to give us considera ble insight into the nature of the larger beds of this fossil production, which are evidently the consequence ofagreat pressure, and some chemical process, connected with the nature of the wood itself, with which, however, we have, as yet, no acquaintance. In 1830, a second and more remarka ble fossil tree was exposed to view in this quarry; and ex cited, from its particular position, a degree of interest which no other vegetable fossil could before lay claim to. Its total length was upwards of 60 feet ; and at angle of about 40 de grees, it intersected 10 or 12 different strata ofthe sand-stone. Its diameter at the top was about seven inches ; and it. had become flattened by pressure near its base, in such a manner as to measure five feet, in its greater, and two feet in its lesser diameter. There were no branches, nor marks of them on its bark; nor were there any roots, although the lower part formed a species of bulb. As in the former specimen, the bark had been converted into a thin coat of the purest and finest coal; and the whole, as it lay exposed in the quarry, presented the appearance of charred wood, forming a striking contrast in colour with the white stone in which it lay. Before making any remarks upon the important evidence depending on this fossil, I shall describe some other instances, which have come within my knowledge, of trees standing in an upright or slightly sloping position, and intersecting a great variety of strata. In a c,olliery, near Dalkeith, which I lately inspected, I found a stem of nearly two feet in diameter, proceeding out of the floor of the coal seam, passing through the coal itself, and entering the roof above. In the floor, and in the roof, it was petrified, whilst, in passing through the coal stratum, it had become one mass of pure coal, and its shape was with diffi culty distinguished. How far its top or roots extended conld not be ascertained ; but it is probable that it was of much greater length than met the eye. In Cullelo sand-stone quarry, near Aberdour, in Fife, num bers of trees are found, supposed to be ofthe palm-tribe, and often intersecting the strata in the rock. In Killingworth colliery, north of Newcastle, there are many large fossil trees discovered in the coal strata, and they frequently have some indication of roots. One of these is. particularly described and figured by Mr. Wood, in the Trans actions of the Natural History Society of Northumberland. Its roots rested in the shale, immediately above the coal bed, and its stem pierced 10 or 12 different strata. In Wideopen free-stone quarry, near the house at Gos- forth, in Northumberland, a tree, of 70 feet in length, and lying across the strata, was lately discovered in a petrified state. In Jarrow colliery, also, similar plants are found in con siderable abundance ; and in the Gosforth pit, down which I lately went, (a depth of 190 fathoms in one shaft, being the deepest now in the kingdom,) I found the roof of the main coal stratum to be entirely composed, in many places, of trunks of trees, lying in every direction, and of very con siderable size.* From all these instances, (and many others might be quo ted if it were necessary,) we cannot but perceive, that our previous notions of the formation of strata in general, have been of the most erroneous description ; for when we look at a lofty cliff of sand-stone rock, without any embedded fossil, we at once conceive to ourselves the vast length of time which we had been taught, by geology, to assign, for so extensive and gradual a formation. But such an example as the Craig- * I cannothere omit remarking, that in Jarrow colliery, the muscle beds or strata, containing sea shells, are very abundant I saw some specimens of these shells in the museum at Newcastle ; they exactly resemble those muscles found in the blue clay, reposing on the chalk at Pegwell, in Kent. I also find, that in some of the coal pits in Scotland, (and that of the Drum, near Dalkeith, was particularly mentioned, ) sea shells, as large as oysters, are frequently found in the roof of the coal stra tum, as if they had been stuck into clay from below. 9G CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. leith fossil tree exhibits, must serve at once to show, that in stead of thousands or millions of years, for such deposits of sand-stone rock, but a very short time indeed must have been occupied in the formation ofthe whole of this quarry; and, consequently, of the whole coal formation which rests below it. The tree, could not possibly have remained in a reclining posture, if only held by a few of the stra ta near its base. Nor could it have been long exposed with its top protruding in air or in water; a few passing waves, or, at most, a few days of the agitated and turbid waters of the deluge, must have been sufficient for the formation of the whole bed in which it is now found, and which we are apt to look upon as of vast extent. In the same manner we are instructed by those fossil stems, which pass through a coal bed from the floor, into the strata above, to a great height. These are only further indications and proofs of the truth of what I have before stated, that the formation of coal, under every circumstance, must be attributed to the progressive sinking and covering up of the diluvial vegetable ruin at the period of the flood ; and that this invaluable fossil production, in its present state, has beer, tbe result of prodigious pressure on the one hand, and of chemical action on the other. We cannot, for a moment, doubt that all the beds through which these stems now pass, were once in a soft or semi fluid state, like the sands upon the sea shore, about the eb bing of the tide. The whole strata, however horizontal they must once have been, have since become more or less derang ed, not by elevation, but by depression ; and upon this principle alone I have already explained the origin and cause of the slips, dykes, and troubles, so well known in all mining coun tries. We now account, in a natural and consistent manner, for a large proportion of all the upper soils and strata with which the surface of the present earth is covered. Let us only suppose, for a moment, a greater number of these fossil stems acting, as they do, as measures, cast into various parts of the deluvial strata, one above another.' If a series of twelve or fourteen solid beds of sand-stone, and other strata of the coal formation, were formed in the short space of time necessary to support one tree of sixty or seventy feet long, in a reclining posture, we have a full right to carry our ideas much further on the same scale. Our notions of lacustrine quiet deposits, in an immense period of years, must be for ever laid aside with regard to the coal fields. The presence of sea shells, in even a few of the coal strata, is sufficient for the total destruc tion of this long received theory. And if we are forced to give up this proof of the great antiquity of the globe, we must naturally enter upon that more consistent and well defined system presented to our contemplation in the geology of Scripture. We thus attain, by these vegetable evidences, the same strong ground we had already taken up, by the testimo ny of animal fossil bodies, on every part of the earth's surface. Every thing is consistent and agreeable to history, instead of being contradictory in all its parts, and directly opposed to what the sacred narrative so plainly lays before us. I feel it scarcely necessary here to remark upon the singu lar notion entertained, by some, of these fossil trees having grown in the sandy or argillaceous strata in which they now happen to lie. This mistake arises, like most of the other erroneous notions in geology, in the constant idea that we are now living upon the antediluvian dry lands ; an idea which we have already found it necessary entirely to lay aside. Had the trees grown where we now find them, their roots must have been fixed on a different material from that which now covers the stems; and we must have discovered, which has never yet been done, some indication of a former soil, suited to the nourishment of so rich a vegetation.* With regard to the- fine fossil tree, we can have no sort o1 doubt of its having been embedded, together with all the other vegetable matter found in the quarry of Craigleith, in the course of a few days, or, perhaps, of a few tides'; a con jecture for which we shall presently find that there are the strongest possible grounds. And as this free-stone formation, of at least 220 feet in depth, is of precisely the same nature as that which forms the roof of many of the coal beds in that neighbourhood, and containing the very same fossil vegeta ble productions, we come at once to the strongest evidence, both as to the nature and the period of the whole contents of the coal basins ; and, also, of the very great rapidity with which they must have been deposited. All these facts tend, in the strongest manner, to confirm the opinions I have before, and at greater length; expressed ; that the coal beds were formed at the period of the deluge, by successive deposits of great vegetable masses, which must * In a lately published work of Mr. Lyell, to which allusion has, more than once, been made, and in which that able writer takes a very luminous view of the secondary causes in constant action on the surface of the earth, we find a very striking (though altogether unintentional) argument against the generally received theory, of the fossil remains of tropical quadrupeds now found in our upper soils and strata having belonged to animals formerly naturalized to our climates, and inhabiting our "antediluvian forests." This ar gument is found in his account of the formation and extent of peat mosses in the North of Europe, in the course of which, this author clearly shows, " that a considerabl&portion of the European peat bogs are evidently not more ancient than the age of Julius Ccesar ;"* an admission we could scarcely have looked for, from a writer. whose whole theory is founded on "the economy of Nature," hav ing been " uniform," and the laws, which direct the changes on the earth, having " remained invariably the same :" for, as a greatpart of his work is occupied in endeavouring to show that the present * Principles of Geology, vol. ii. p. 21 -i. system of Nature has been regular, and has proceeded in the same course for millions of years, we can in no way account, in a system of such indefinite extent, for the origin and growth of peat, within so comparatively trifling an era as the days ot the Romans. "The antlers," says he, " of large and full grown stags, are amongst the most common and conspicuous remains of animals m peat. Bones of the ox, hog, horse, sheep, and other herbivorous ani mals, also, occur ; and in h-eland, and the Isle of Man, skeletons of a gigantic elk ; but no remains have been met with belonging to those extinct quadrupeds, of which the living congeners inhabit warmer latitudes, such as the elephant, rhinoceros, hippopotamus, hyM gravel, of the origin of which it would be very difficult tXgrfe even a plausible conjecture. I allude to those well-like cavities so often seen in the chalk pits near London, and also frequently. found in the sections ofthe French and English sea coasts.* We have, also, in the chalk an insuperable difficulty, in accounting for the Tegular cavities in which flint nodules have subsequently been formed. I say subsequently, because this fact is demonstrably certain, from the fossil shells, of the chalk formation-, often embedded in the flints, as in the purest water. \ If we find ourselves in difficulty, with respect to these mi nor cavities, which must have occurred under the level of the sea, much more shall we despair of plausibly accounting for the more extensive and even stupendous grottoes peculiar to other marine deposits, as palpably having formed a part ofthe bed of the antediluvian ocean. One thing, however, is a well established fact, that there is an intimate and constant con nection between the latest sediments of the waters of the de luge, with their animal and vegetable contents, and these upper calcareous formations. In the instance of the gypsum of the basin of Paris, the organic remains are not contained in cavities, but are completely incorporated in the body of a rock, so hard as to require to be blasted with gunpowder. Here is a positive proof that gypsum is a chemical deposit or formation, which was once in a fluid state; and we can have no hesitation with respect to the period at which this fluidity existed, illustrated, as the point is, by the identity of some of its fossils, with those ofthe superincumbent diluvial soils. If, therefore, gypsum was a fluid, at the period of the deluge, . in the basin of Paris we have the strongest reasons for coming to a similar conclusion, wherever that calcareous rock is found to exist. At Kostritz, the gypsum is split into fissures, * These remarkable cavities, in the form of regular wells, of various depths, and, occasionally, of irregular forms, are exhibited in a remarkable manner in the chalk pits at Greenhithe, on the south bank of the Thames, between Dartford and Gravesend. There is, indeed, nothing more interesting, or instructive, in the geology of England, than the obviously diluvial origin ofthe super incumbent strata, upon the chalk, every where near London, where the wants of man, and the laws of nature, have, in so many places, combined to lay the whole formations completely open to our in spection. The almost invariably horizontal surface of the chalk, with the very marked irregularity of the new diluvial surface in the neighbourhood of Greenwich, Woolwich, Shooter's Hill, and all over that part of Kent, as well as on the northern shores of the Thames, must serve to explain this branch of our subject in the clearest and most obvious manner. + I have formerly had occasion to make some remarks upon the fossil shells of the chalk formation, often found attached to, or filled by, pure flint. I have lately seen one of these fossil specimens, which has been cut through, and polished by a lapidary. The polish given to the flint is of the finest kind ; and in looking into the transparent mass, we find many of the small spines, with which the shell was originally covered on its exterior surface, perfectly pre served, and lying in various directions, as if preserved in ice. No proof can be more distinct, that the flint was once in the state of a per fect fluid ; and that this fluid state was subsequent to the deposit of the chalky mass, may be looked upon as equally certain. The cause of the irregular, tliough stratified cavities, in which flint nodules have been subsequently formed, must ever remain, however, a matter of conjecture ; although, the obscurity of the cause does not, in any degree, affect the truth of the facts presented to our contemplation. GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 109 often filled, as they naturally would be, with the superincum bent gravel under which it is found. But the animal remains are ofthe very same description in the gypsum at both places, and the bones are in the same state of decay or preservation. We, therefore, have a right to conclude, that as the Paris gypsum was a diluvial formation, the bones, contained in it, could be no other than those of antediluvian animals. We must judge of the Kostritz gypsum by the very same law ; there can, therefore, be no hesitation in considering the hu man bones of those quarries, as well as those of the domestic cock, and the rhinoceros which accompany them, as indisputa ble remains of the ancient world. The nature of all lime-stone cavities appears to be nearly the same in all countries. We hear of the bones of elephants in New Holland,* as well as in America, and in Europe, contained in similar caverns ; and as we know of no other calamity so destructive as the Mosaic deluge, either from history, tradition, or animal remains, we must conclude that every land production, (together with such marine shells as often accompany them,) when found in our rocks and soils, is attributable to the action of the Mosaic de luge, and to that period alone. CHAPTER XIV. On the Situation of Paradise ; together with both Critical and Geological Evidences of the spurious Character of that de scriptive account of it, found in all Modern Copies and Translations of the Book of Genesis. -As the chief object of this treatise has been to show, from the evidence of history, corroborated by physical facts, that the greater part of the present dry lands of the earth formed the bed of the antediluvian sea, and that the former lands were utterly destroyed at the period of the deluge, " the earth, that now is," being thus distinct from " the earth, that then was,"f a question respecting the situation of the Paradise in which our first parents were placed by their Creator, has probably arisen in the mind of every one ; and but for the interruption to the general course of the subject which this question must have given rise to, it should un doubtedly have been considered at ari earlier period of this work ; as there is, perhaps, no part ofthe Old Testament, as found in our translations, which has been so fruitful a source of error and misconception, as the descriptive account of the rivers of Paradise. These rivers are described as being four in number, of which the only one at present known is the Euphrates. The names of the other rivers, and the extra ordinary and inconsistent geographical account of their sup posed courses, have long been a source of anxious critical inquiry, as well as of local research : for almost all travellers who have visited the East, and had an opportunity of becom ing acquainted with the course of the Euphrates, have anxiously sought for the situation of Paradise ; and have, invariably, been obliged to relinquish the subject, from the utter impossibility of applying the description, in the slight est degree, to any part of the course of that noble river. Mr. Granville Penn, in his " Comparative Estimate ofthe Mineral and Mosaical Geologies," has entered, at consider able length, and with his usual ability, into a critical examination of this subject ; and has most clearly shown the high probability, amounting almost to certainty, of the descriptive part ofthe Garden of Eden, as found in all modern translations of the original text, having been originally annexed, as an explanatory note, to the margin of an early MS. and having been, subsequently, incorporated into the * Specimens of fossil bones and wood were sent home by Mr. Crawford from the district of Ava, in latitude 21 degrees north. Amongst these bones were found those of two new species of the mastodon, together with the bones of the hippopotamus, rhinoceros, antelope, deer, the ox, the hog, the tortoise, and the alligator. From the instances, few as they are, with which we are already ac quainted, of such fossil deposits, in tropical, as well as in temperate and polar regions, we can have no doubt of the general and indis criminate dispersion of animalbodies over every region of the earth ; arid that if the wants of man, in Asia, aud in Africa, required such extensive operations under the surface of the ground, as have brought to light so many fossil Ueasures in Europe, and in America, we should often there discover the remains of animals as unnatural to hot climates, as the elephant and alligator are to cold ones. f 2d Epistle of Peter, iii. 6. body of the work, by the ignorance of a subsequent tran scriber, as has also occurred in some other parts of the Sacred Writings. In support of this -opinion, he shows, on the authority of the most learned critics, both ancient and modern, that copies of the Hebrew Scriptures formerly existed, which exhibited variations, arising from marginal glosses and insertions, originally designed as illustrations of the text, but which illustrative glosses had become, in some instances, incor porated into the text in subsequent copies. One remarkable example, given by this able writer, of an incorporated gloss in the New Testament, and which is not so generally known as it deserves to be, is well adapted to show the nature of similar incorporations, and of the serious mischief to which they invariably lead ; for truth is, in all instances, so consistent and simple, that any deviation from the plain tenor of its course, must, generally, excite observa tion, as the following remarkable instance has frequently done. This example is found in the remnant of a very ancient Greek MS. of the New Testament, in the Royal Library at Paris, entitled the Codex Ephremi, which has been pronounced, by Wetstein, to be of the same date "as the celebrated Alexandrian MS. In this work, the first five verses of the 5th chapter of St. John's Gospel are thus read : * For an > angel went down at a cer tain season into the bath, and troubled the waters : whoso ever, then, after the troubling ofthe wa- ters,fli-st stepped in, was made whole of whatsoever disease he had. ' After this, there was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusa lem. Now there is at Jerusalem, by the sheep-market, a bath, which is called in the Hebrew tongue Be- thesda, having five porches ; in these lay a great number of impotent folk, of blind, halt, withered;* and a cer tain man was there.f which had an infirmity thirty and eight years. When Jesus saw him, &c. t Waiting for tho troubling of the waters. " In the MS. in question," says Mr. Penn, " the text, and the marginal sentences, though both are in the same uncial character, are written by different hands ; and it is evident, from the language, and from an itacism, perceptible in the latter, that they are of a date posterior to the former. It is equally manifest, that they were marginal notes, annexed with the design of illustrating the popular superstition, under which the infirm man was waiting at the bath : but, at the same time, they adopt the superstition, and aver it to be true. The original text was free from that blemish ; and the simplicity and close sequence of the recital, bear internal evidence that these marginal passages are alien to it. The superstitious clause, therefore, does not pertain to the evan gelical historian, but has become incorporated into his history in the progress of transcription."* Although the passage we are now to consider in the second chapter of Genesis, in which the descriptive account of the situation of Paradise is found, has not the advantage of so clear and distinct an evidence of its spurious character, as that of St. John above mentioned, yet there does appear, in the narration itself, the strongest internal evidence of the 11th, 12th, 13th, and 14th verses of that chapter, having been, subsequently; inserted into the original text, in a man ner precisely similar, from a marginal note, intended, by some ignorant transcriber, as an illustration of the subject. When we add to this internal critical evidence, the remark able geological proofs of the correctness of this view of the subject, the mind becomes fully confirmed in this opinion ; and this, the only part of the Inspired Writings which stood in contradiction to the geology exhibited in the rest, becomes at once both consistent and clear. It appears, therefore, nearly certain, that the text and gloss originally stood thus, as Mr. Penn has most ably shown;— Now the Lord God had planted a garden in Eden from the first; and there He put the man whom He had formed; and out of the ground the Lord God had made to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food: -the tree of life, also, in the midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil. And a river went out of Eden, for (or after) watering the garden, but thence (above) it was parted, and divided into four, heads (or sources).* And the Lord God took the man, and put him into the garden of Eden, to dress it, and to keep it, &c. &c, "That the illustration, intended by the gloss, is unskilful, * The name ofthe first is Pison: that is it which compas- seth the whole land of Havilah, where there is gold; and thegoldofthatlandis good; and there is bdellium, and the onyx stone: and the name of the second is Qishon: the same isitthatencompas-seth thewholeland of Ethiopia: and the name ofthe thirdia Hiddckel : that is it which goeth in front of Assyria; and the fourth riv- jer is Euphrates. Comp. Estim. vol. ii. p. 235. 110 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. and does not answer to the text, is manifest ; for the text mentions only one river, whereas, the gloss undertakes to describe_/"nw rivers. "Michaelis shows, that the original word, translated heads, denotes sources, in the Syriac and Arabic languages ; and he expressly states, that it never signifies the branches of a river in the Oriental tongues. Thus, the final confluence of four contributary streams, from the four sources or heads, to which the historian traces them in Eden, produced one river, discharging itself out of Eden, of which he speaks ; which four heads, therefore, can have no relation to the four rivers recited by the scholiast in the gloss ; because, no river separates itself into different rivers downwards ; on the con trary, it is the nature of all rivers to grow by confluence." Mr. Granville Penn proceeds thus : — " Most certainly," observes Kennicott, " the closest attention should be paid, in biblical investigations, to all such mistakes as introduce con fusion and contradiction. Neither of these could have obtain ed originally ; and both of them have frequently been objected by the advocates of infidelity." " But," adds Mr. Penn, " the case before us exhibits a sig nal example of that contradiction; and, therefore, of the ob vious necessity of demanding, and therefore warranting, the critical interposition which has here befin undertaken. For the destruction of the primitive earth is a fact rooted in the very substance of the Sacred Scriptures, and spreading its roots from the text of Moses to that of St. Peter ; whereas, the contradiction of that fact, contained in the above geogra phical gloss, lies loosely and unrooted on the surface, and only on this particular point of it. Since, then, a manifest con tradiction of the former is produced by the presence of the latter-; and since the one must, of necessity, give place to the other, it is unquestionably the office and the duty of sound and scrupulous criticism, to demonstrate the invalidity ofthe latter, in order that the important testimony of the former may stand unimpaired."* Having now viewed this part of our subject critically, we may proceed to the geological proofs above alluded to, which proofs, being altogether unknown to Mr. Penn, at the time his valuable work was written, the judgment he has above given becomes ofthe greater value. Since the period of his publication, we have had the advantage of perusing the de scriptive sketches of an intelligent traveller in the East, whose remarks, as far as they relate to our present subject, are of the greater consequence, from the circumstance of their having been written without any theory in view, without any geological knowledge, or the smallest desire of supporting or opposing any particular question. The traveller I allude to is Mr. Buckingham, who, in the year 1816, accompanied one of the caravans which cross the Syrian desert from Aleppo to Mousul, on the Tigris, from whence he proceeded to Bagdad, on his way to India. He thus had an opportunity of passing through the region of Mes opotamia, which is bounded by the two great rivers, the Eu phrates, and the Tigris ; and by a route across the deserts of that country, which had not been passed by any E uropean writer during nearly a century. I shall now proceed to give a few extracts from Mr. Buck ingham's work, which must throw the most important lio-ht upon the subject of our present inquiry ; and as the nature of the soil over which he passed, is mentioned merely in a casual manner, and is altogether unconnected with the chief objects he had in view, there can be no just cause for hesitation or doubt as to the correctness of the statement. He first came upon the river Euphrates, at Beer, where he crossed it, and where he considered its breadth to be about that ofthe Thames, in London. " Its greatest depth did not seem to be more than ten or twelve feet. Its waters were of a dull yellowish colour, and were quite as turbid as those of the Nile ; though, as I thought, much inferior to them in sweetness of taste. The earth with which it is discoloured, is much heavier, as it quickly sub sided, and left a sediment in the bottom of the cup, even while drinking ; whereas, the waters of the Nile, from the lightness ofthe mould, may be drank without perceiving such deposit, if done immediately on being taken from the river." "The town of Beer, which is the Birtha of antiquity, is seated on the east banjj of the Euphrates, The river is here about the general breadth of the Nile, below the first cataract to the sea, and is at least equal to the Thames at Blackfriars bridge. The people of Beer are, in general, aware of the celebrity of their stream ; and think it is the largest in the * Comp. Estim, yol, ii. p. 24?, world. It still preserves its ancient name, with little corrup tion, being called by them Shat-el-Fraat, or the River of Fraat. It is known, also, as one of the four rivers of Paradise ; and tlie only one, seemingly, which has preserved its name. The river Gihon, which is mentioned, also, in the Koran, was thought, by an Indian pilgrim of our party, to be the Gunga of the Hindoos ; and the rest assented to its being in the inner most India. It is true, that it is said to compass the whole land of Ethiopia; but Herodotus speaks of Indian Ethiopians in his time; and, among early writers, the word Ethiopia was applied to the country of the black people generally." We have here another instance of the error and inconsist ency which is evident in the descriptive clause respecting the rivers of Paradise. The whole geography of the Eu phrates is now well known, and that it runs into the Persian Gulf, after being, like all other rivers, enlarged by many additions, of which the Tigris is the most considerable. It is, therefore, both unnatural that it should divide into large rivers, of various diverging courses; and, contrary to fact, that any part of it compasseth the whole land of either Indian or African Ethiopia. But this idea of Mr. Buckingham, respecting Inbian Ethi opia, appears entirely without foundation, in as far at least as Scripture is concerned. Mention is very frequently made of Ethiopia, and ofthe Ethiopians, in various parts of the Old Testament, both in the historical and in the poetic books ; but in no one instance does the term imply any allusion to India, or to the East On the contrary, Egypt, and Ethiopia, are almost always men tioned together, as forming parts of the same great African continent.* Salust, in his Jugurthine war, gives us a very luminous view of the geography of Africa, and of its various nations, as far as both were known in his day ; and he places Ethiopia next to " loca exusta solis ardoribus," or the countries burnt up by the heat of the torrid zone. This same valuable histo-. rian, in a fragment which has been preserved, tells us, "that the Moors, a vain and faithless people, as all Africans are, > would make us believe, that, beyond Ethiopia, there is an antipodes, a just and amiable people, the manners and cus toms of which resemble those of the Persians." We shall have occasion, in the next chapter, to notice some customs amongst the Africans of the interior, which are evidently derived from their Asiatic progenitors. " The banks of the river, at Beer, are steep on both sides, andof a chalky soil." " There are many perpendicular cliffs within and around it, indifferent directions ; in these are many large caves, and smaller grottoes. They are of a hard chalky substance, and the cavities have furnished the materials for the building of the town.f The whole presents a mass of glaring white, which is painful to look upon in the sun." After leaving Beer, and on his way to Orfah, over a very fiat and desert country. Mr. Buckingham proceeds; "we were now come into a more uneven country than before ; the height of many of the eminences gave them the character of hills ; and they were, throughout, formed of lime-stone rock, of a rounded surface, and, generally, barren. In the valleys ' A few instances from tbe Old Testament, in order to show this close connection, may here be of use. " Now it came to pass, in the days of Ahasuerus (this is Ahasuerus which reigned from India, even unto Ethiopia, over 127 provinces ;") &c— Esther i. 1. also viii. 9. that is, from east to west, or from the most distant parts of Asia, even unto the interior of Africa. " For I am the Lord thy God. the Holy one of Israel, thy Saviour ; I gave Egypt for thy ransom, Ethiopia and Seba for thee. "—Isaiah xliii. 3. "Thus saith the Lord, the labour of Egypt, and the merchandise of Ethiopia, ccc. shall come unto thee. " — Isaiah xlv. 14. " Philistia, and Tyre, with Ethiopia."— Psalm. Ixxxii. 4. " Moreover, the Lord stirred up against Jehoran, the spirit ofthe Philistines, and of the Arabians, that were near the Ethiopians."— Chron. xxi. IB ; that is, the Red Sea only dividing them. " Ethiopia and Egypt were her strength, and it was infinite."— Nahum iii. 8 and 9. Moses, also, wjien residing in Egypt had married an Ethiopian woman. ' ' He shall have power over the treasures of gold and of silver, and over all the precious things of Egypt ; and the Libyans and the Ethio pians shall be at his steps."— Daniel xi. 42 ; see also the whole of the 20th chapter of Isaiah. Besides these, many distinct instances might be quoted, to show that Ethiopia is never alluded to in Scrip ture, but with reference to a province of Africa ; and, consequently, that there could be no possible -connection between any branch ofthe Euphrates, and tliat distant country. t It is highly probable.from the nature of the secondary rockabove described, that these " large caves and smaller grottoes" were such natural cavities as are peculiar to some calcareous formations. GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. Ill were some few patches of cultivated ground, but the rest was covered with a long wild grass." We have here, again, on these extensive plains, all the outward form and charac ter of that chalky formation, exposed to view in the channel of the Euphrates, at Beer. On arriving at Orfah, we find a repetition of the above secondary indications, in the following extract. In the course of a walk round the outside wall of the city, Mr. Bucking ham remarked, in the construction of the wall, three distinct periods of very ancient building. The foundation was evi dently of an extremely remote period. " The surface of the blocks of stone," says he, " was, in general, much corroded by the action of the air ; and, on a close examination, I was surprised to find them mostly blocks of coral and sea shells, such as are seen in the cliffs along the shores of the Red Sea, in a state of decay. In some of these, the substance seemed to be a mass of lime, in a state of decomposition, which crumbled at the touch, into a white salt-like powder. In others, the large oyster, with the small queen, or fan shell, was repeatedly and distinctly seen, with still more numerous examples of those smaller ones, like ram's horns, so frequent among the sands of every sea-beach. Other parts, the sur faces of which had become hardened by the action ofthe air, looked like coarse lime-stone, crossed* by harder and finer veins of pure marble. These stones were all in the original structure of the wall, though, of what age, it would be diffi cult to determine.. But the nature ofthe stone is well worthy of remark, in a situation so remote from any sea, and so elevated above the level ofthe ocean, beneath which, alone, it could have been formed. I had seen no such rocks in the way to Orfah; though no doubt the quarries from which the stones were taken, are not far remote ; but, in the neigh bourhood of Aleppo, there are several masses Of hardened shells and coral, appearing above the surface- of the ground." We find a similar instance of secondary formation men tioned by Xenophon, in his Anabasis, 3, p. 212, who describes, in the following terms, a very large city, which the Ten Thousand passed in their famous retreat: "marching, the rest of the day, without disturbance, they came to the river Tigris, where stood a large uninhabited city, called Larissa," (probably, the Reseh, mentioned as a great city, Gen. x. 12.) " anciently inhabited by the Medes, the walls of which were 25 feet broad, and 100 in height, all built of brick, except the plinth, which was built of stones, and 20 feet high. The plinth of the wall was built of polished stone, full op shells,* &c." r These very casual observations, on the Geology of Meso potamia, serve to indicate, in a remarkable manner, the gen eral secondary and diluvial nature of the whole surface of that eastern region, which is composed either of secondary rocks, or diluvial sands and soils ; for the calcareous Or chalky character of the rocks, appears evident from the distinct mention of the fossil sea shells contained in some of the few specimens to which the traveller's attention had been attracted. The object, in quoting these extracts, is not with the view of any general information, as to tho secondary nature of a great part of Syria, and the regions east of it ; as our former gen eral view of those Tegions tended distinctly to prove that the whole of that part of the continent of Asia, with but few ex ceptions, was of that secondary character. But as the chalk formation is here described as forming a considerable part of the course of the E uphrates, upon which the primitive Para dise is said to have existed, the subject is thus brought, geologi cally, to a positive issue. For if it has been satisfactorily proved, in the course of this treatise, that the chalk formation formed a, part of the bed of the antediluvian ocean, and that the chalk basins of geologists must have become charged with their present dilu vial contents at the period of the deluge, it is an inconsistency, of the most glaring kind, to look for the site of the primitive Paradise upon the surface of a secondary country, then form ing the bottom of the sea, as is satisfactorily proved by the nature . of its rocks, and by the marine fossils contained' in them ; which, like all secondary formations, in other parts of the earth, could only have become habitable dry land, by the interchange of level between the old lands and the ocean, at the period of the deluge. •The great pyramid of Cheops, in Egypt, stands, like the other pyramids of that country, in a'plain, composed of calcareous rock. It is formed of lime-stone, of a grayish white colour, and which ex hales a fetid odour when broken by a smart blow. Thus we hnd another instance, of one of the earliest edifices, of post-diluvian man, formed of a secondary rock, and standing on a secondary tor- ma tion. No one can, therefore, persist in his search for Paradise, in a country avowedly secondary in its rocks, and diluvial in its sandy deserts, or richer soils, without advocating a theory in geology still more inconsistent and wild, than has yet been advanced ; for as we can trace, over all these regions through which the Tigris and the Euphrates flow, the same monu ments of the flood, which are so remarkable in every other quarter of the world, in the form of boundless deserts of sand mixed with salt and shells, we might as well look for the rich and beautiful regions of our first parents in the plains of America or of Africa, as expect to discover any trace of them on the banks of the river Euphrates. We thus come to the same point, geologically, which various writers have before Teached critically ; and we have, in this united evidence, a striking example of what must ever hap pen, where human reason interferes with the sublime and consistent simplicity of Divine Revelation. CHAPTER XV. On the Creation of Mankind. — T/ie Origin of Language. — What was fhe Primitive Language ? — High Probability in favour of the Hebrew. — On the Diversity of Colour among Mankind. — Testimony of the Jews on this Subject. — Origin ofthe American Indians. — Their traditions and Customs. — Their Religious Belief. — Religious Rites in the Interior of Africa. — On Sacrifice. — Traditions and Belief in the Friendly Islands. — Historical Evidence of a common descent from Noah. — On the Identity of Words among the most distant Nations. — On the Universal use of a Decimal gradation. — Natural Infer ence from all these Considerations. It may, by some, be looked upon as an inconsistent and uncalled-for departure from the geological inquiries which form the main object of this -treatise, to take, in this place, a rapid view of a subject so apparently unconnected with the structure and phenomena of the earth, as the languages, the complexions, the traditions, and the customs of many of the most distant nations. But when we consider, that the design of thus tracing the history of the earth, as recorded by inspi ration, is to oppose those theories of philosophy which would expand the well-defined periods of the; Mosaic history into indefinite periods, during the long lapse of which, both the mineral world, its inhabitants, and its languages, gradually became what we now find them, by the progress of society, in the one case, and by the mere laws of nature in the other, without any aid from a superior power ; it may be readily admitted to be a point of no small importance, in corroboration of the correctness of the views we have taken of the earth; if we can discover, from an equally general view of the human race, and of their various languages and customs, decisive proof of the recent creation of man, of the still more recent action of the deluge, and, consequently, of the entire confi dence with which we may refer to the Mosaic record, for a true account of the early events upon the earth. The evidence which may be adduced of the general origin of all the languages of the globe, when added to the remark able traditions of the deluge, which have already been no ticed, may serve to confirm, in sceptical minds, the unerring truth of the sacred volume, when it announces to us, first, that all mankind have sprung from one pair, created on the sixth and last day ofthe creation; secondly, that, after up wards of sixteen hundred years of increase over a portion of the then dry land, the whole of that race perished by an awful judgment ofthe Almighty, excepting one single family; third ly, that whatever the languages ofthe antediluvian world might have been, that single family had but one individual lan guage, which was handed down by them to their descendT ants ; and, fourthly, that from the deluge to that period in which the descendants of Noah had so far increased in num ber, and in wickedness, as to endeavor to elude any similar effect of the divine wrath, by building the tower of Babel, in the plains of Shinar, " the whole earth was of one language, and of one speech," which language was there " confounded," or scattered, by the will ofthe Almighty; so that the people were interrupted in their impious intention, and " scattered abroad," in various tribes or clans, "over the face of the whole earth." With respect to the original language which Moses de scribes our first parents as making use of, from their very 112 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. first creation, we are no where informed in what manner they first acquired it, nor how it was communicated to them. It is, indeed, probable that the inspired historian addressed him self to those who were much less sceptical on such subjects than ourselves ; and that this remarkable endowment, pecu liar to the human race, and by which they so far excel all other created beings, was never, in early .times, doubted as having been directly communicated from the same wise and provident source from whence the human race itself had arisen ; and the researches of the wisest and most learned men of all ages have invariably led them to the same natural conclusion. We have no direct means of positive knowledge as to what relation the primitive language of the earth may have had with existing tongues; but, in the absence of such evidence, we may form some conjectures on the subject, which are cer tainly marked with the highest probability. In the first place, we must consider that the numbers of the antediluvian human race, and their consequent divisions into nations, could not have been nearly so great as in the present day, from the comparatively short period they had existed, and from the comparatively unrefined condition natural to a primitive race of beings, on whom the gift of reason was obviously be stowed by the Creator, for the purposes of exertion, and of gradual cultivation and improvement. We must not here suppose, however, with too many advocates of an erring phi losophy, that man was, at first, naturally savage, or in the state we now find the wild and uncultivated natives of savage countries; or that religion and knowledge were, in the first days, in the debased condition we now too often find them, in the remote corners of the earth. The savage state is not natural to man; but, on the contrary, is brought on by erring from the true path of knowledge, in which both Adam and Noah must have brought up their first descendants ; and which, in both instances, was communicated in a direct man ner, from the unerring source of every good which mankind now enjoys. In considering the progressive stages of society, we are too apt to content ourselves with merely looking back, from our own times, into the darker ages of barbarism, and thus to form our ideas on the false supposition, that the primitive nature of man is one of perfect ignorance, and such as we now find amongst the savages of Africa or America : whereas, if we trace the progress of society, in its proper and natural course, by descending from the creation, and from the deluge, instead of ascending from our own times, we shall find that the primitive state of mankind, even immediately after the creation, was one of intelligence and understanding, if not in arts and sciences, at least on the leading point of religion, which is, of all others, that in which the savage falls most short of the civilized man. It pleased his Creator to bestow upon primitive man a full and perfect conception of the rela tion in which he stood towards the Supreme Being; and it was in order to preserve a knowledge of the true religion among men, that a certain family and race were afterwards expressly chosen; we find, accordingly, that to whatever state of idolatrous ignorance, or savage barbarity, the various ancient nations of the earth were, from time to time, reduced, there was always some portion of the world, and especially of the Jewish race, which adhered to the true faith, and which was, consequently, preserved from that state of un natural debasement from which man has a constant tendency and desire to emancipate himself. It is, therefore, highly probable, that as we hear of no diversity of language on the earth, until after the deluge, the whole primitive race was " of one language, and of one speech," and that that language must, consequently, have been the same spoken by those few individuals who were preserved from the flood. Now, when we consider the great scheme of the Al mighty, foretold from time to time, from the days of Adam to those of Abraham, and continued from thence, in a well de fined course of history, to our own times ; when we consider the wonderful and miraculous events that were foretold, and Were afterwards so literally fulfilled, in the line of the chosen people of God ; that, through them, and through their lan guage, the Inspired Writings of the early times, were to be for ever handed down to the generations of men; that of all the languages of the earth, the Hebrew tongue, like the He brew people, has hitherto withstood every change and every calamity ; and been, like them, miraculously preserved by the Almighty will, for a great and beneficent end ; and when we further consider the strong analogy and filiation, so easily traced, in all the languages of the earth, to the Hebrew as the most nrohahie post-diluvian original tongue ; when all these considerations are combined, is it unreasonable to conclude to the high probability of the original language of the Sacred Scriptures being the pure and original tongue first communi cated to man by his Maker ? In considering, then, the language of the Hebrews as the most probable source from whence all other tongues have been derived ; and when we trace in all these other tongues, the gradual varieties that have arisen, and are still now proceeding in the dialects of the earth, by the secondary causes, and, seemingly, trivial accidents, by which the different shades of language are brought about, are we not strongly reminded of the same character which we have traced in the .primitive and secondary formations of the mineral world? Are we not justified in drawing a comparison be tween the miraculously preserved primitive language, and the no less miraculously preserved chosen people, who are the constant living miracle, bearing unwilling witness to the truth of Inspiration, to all the generations of mankind ? , We are reminded, that it was repeatedly foretold in prophecy, that the Hebrew nation should be dispersed into all countries; yet that they should not be swallowed up and lost amongst their conquerors, but should subsist, to the latest times, a distinct people ; that, "though God would make an end of the nations, their oppressors, He would not make an end of them." In the common course of human events, who has heard of, or seen, so unusual a thing? The mighty monarchies of As syria, of Persia, of Greece, and of Rome, have vanished, like the shadows of the evening, or passed rapidly away, like the shining meteors of the night. Their places know them no more ; nothing remains but the great moral of their tale. But this chosen people of God, contemned by all nations, without a friend or protector, yet secure amidst the wreck of empires, oppressed, persecuted, harassed by edicts, by executions, by murders, and by massacres, has outlived the very ruins of them all. Well may we exclaim, " Truly this is the Lord's doing, and, therefore, so marvellous in our eyes." Before, however, proceeding further with the consideration of the languages of the earth, it may not be uninteresting, or uninstructive, to make a few observations on a different sub ject, which, like language, has given rise to much theory and hypothesis amongst men ; and on which subject, the same remarkable people may assist in enlightening us. I mean, the varied colour of the human race. Notwithstanding all the arguments which have been made use of, and the modified exceptions which may be produced, there is no genefal conclusion more certain, than that the com plexions of men are influenced by the temperature of the cli mates they have long inhabited ; and that, in common circum stances, the equatorial regions, nearest the level of the sea, are inhabited by the darkest of the human race ; while the cooler temperatures of the earth, either from atmospheric, or polar elevation, produce a race of men, of various degrees of whiteness. We must not, however, estimate the degree of heat in any climate, merely by its distance from the equator; for the climates of the earth are most materially affected by a variety of circumstances ; such as their elevation above the level ofthe sea; the height of the neighbouring mountains; the comparative extent of land and water, and the like. Thus, there are no native negroes in America, although the torrid zone extends across that continent. But the extent of its neighbouring oceans, its lofty mountains, in many instances covered with perpetual snow, cool the scorching breezes of the torrid zone, and convert it into a comparatively temperate climate. The inhabitants of this New World are, therefore, found to be only of a tawny, or copper-coloured complexion. Hut the most remarkable instance of the effects of climate, in changing the colours of men, after a certain period, may be found in the history of the Jews ; that race, which we know were once all of one colour, but which are now found dis persed among the nations, and assuming, in every clime, the varied tint of the individual people amongst whom they dwell, without, however, having one drop of blood in their veins but what has flowed in a direct line from their patriarch Abraham. in tfritam, and m more northern countries, they are fair; in fepain, and Portugal, they are, brown,- in Arabia, and Ej-ypt, they are copper-coloured; while in Abyssinia, and in India, they are almost wholly black. Dr. Buchanan is his Christian Researches, in treating of the Jews of Cochin, in India, says, " It is only necessary to look at the countenances of the black Jews, to be satisfied that their ancestors must have arrived in India many ages before those of the white Jews. Their Hindoo complexions, and jT(rPlrfeCXreSemblJanCe,totheEuroPean Jews, indicate that they have become detached from the parent stock, many ages before those of the north and west." GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 113 Bishop Heber, in his Journal in India, makes the following just and interesting observations on this subject. " The In dians consider fairness as a part of beauty, and a proof of noble blood. They do not like to be called black, and they taunt the Abyssinians, who are sometimes met with in the country, on the charcoal complexion of the Hubshee. Much of this taste has, probably, arisen from their country having always been a favourite theatre for adventures from Persia, Greece, Tartary, Turkey, and Arabia: all white men, and all, in their turn, possessing themselves of wealth and -power. It is remarkable, however, to observe, how surely all these classes of men, in a few generations, and without any inter marriage with the Hindoos, assume the deep olive tint, little less dark than a Negro, which seems natural to the climate. The Portugufcse natives form unions among themselves alone, or, if they can, with other Europeans; yet they have, during a three hundred years residence in India, become as black as Caffres." — Heber's Journal, vol. i. p. 54. It is evident, therefore, that in the many various shades which mankind are found to assume in different parts of the earth, according to the different temperatures of climate, there can be no sound argument raised against a common origin from a parent stock. The varied colour of mankind appears to be the effect of a mere law of nature, instituted, no doubt, for a beneficial purpose by the Creator, which purpose may, probably, be one day explained, like so many other obscuri ties in the wonders of creation. It has been found by Dr., Franklin, that black transmits heat more readily than any other colour ; and the subject has since been investigated, and confirmed, in various conclusive experiments, by Mr. Leslie, and Count Rumford. We may, therefore, reasonably conclude, that the dark colour of the human race, which is found to increase in proportion to the scorching influence of the san, is a wise provision of the Al mighty, for cooling the fever of the blood, under the intem perate rays of a tropical climate. But to return from this digression, to the subject of lan guage, which we were before considering. As recorded history cannot_be looked for in wild and savage nations, we can only hope to find some traces of the origin of such nations in their traditions, or in their language. In the former of these, however, we can, in general, only look for approximations to truth ; as, however sound their foundation may originally have been, they generally become, in a long lapse of time, so clouded with error, and obscured by the su perstition which usually accompanies the ignorance of uncivi lized states,-that even the early histories of the most polished nations are unsatisfactory and obscure. Much less then can we expect any defined account of the rise or progress of the nations of the New World, or in the still more distant parts of the earth. All travellers in America, however, who have taken any notice of this subject, record the tradition, common amongst many of the tribes of that continent, with regard to their originally having come from a great distance, and hav ing been urged forward by the advance of other tribes, in much the same manner as the European states were overrun by the northern hordes towards the decline and fall of the Roman empire. But whether these American tribes were urged on, by sea or by a land communication with the Old World, towards the north, must probably now remain for ever a sub ject for speculation and conjecture. It may be interesting in this place, however, to make a few remarks upon some of the customs and traditions of the In dian tribes in America, which, in many instances, tend to con firm, in the most remarkable manner, the fact of their descent from the common parent stock in the Old World, although the manner of their entering the American continent has not yet been in any degree, ascertained. A tradition is mention ed by Hunter, as common to many of the Indian tribes, that their ancestors were forced to migrate from a north or north- ' east direction, towards the south. It has already been remark ed, that these Indian tribes all count their time, or days, from sunset to sunset, in the same manner as the Hebrews, though contrary to our established customs in Eferope. Their year, also, begins with the spring, and is divided into 13 moons.* They relate, that the Great Spirit created, at first, one of each sex, and placed them on an island in the midst of the great waters, which, as the human race increased, was enlarged, by supernatural means, to the present extent of the earth. Their traditions respecting the general deluge have been al ready noticed. They are a highly moral people, and ac knowledge one supreme, all-powerful, and intelligent Being, called the Great Spirit, who created and governs all things. " They believe, in general, that after the hunting grounds had been formed and supplied with game, He created the first red man and woman,* who were very large in their stature, and lived to an exceedingly old age ; that He often held councils, and smoked with them, and gave them laws to be observed; but that, in consequence of their disobedience, He withdrew from, and abandoned them to the vexations of the Bad Spirit, who has since been instrumental to all their degeneracy and suffer ings." — Hunter's North America, p. 214. " By the term Spirit, the Indians have an idea' of a being that can, at pleasure, be present, and yet invisible." "They -have no particular day set apart for devotion, though they have particular times, such as a declaration of war, restoration of peace, the season of the harvest, and the new moons.t In general, however, a day seldom passes with the elderly Indians, or others, who are esteemed wise and good, in which a blessing is not asked, or thanks returned to the Giver of life; sometimes audibly, but most generally in the devotional language of the heart." " All their se rious devotions are performed in a standing position." " On some occasions of joyous festivals, lamps, constructed of shells, and supplied with bear's grease, and rush wicks, are kept burning all the preceding and following night." " In all the tribes I have visited, the belief of a future state of existence, and of future rewards and punishments, is preva lent." " I have seen an instance, wherein a prophet, or priest, burnt tobacco, and the offals of the buffalo, and deer, on a kind of altar, formed of stones, on a mound." $. In Lander's Journal, to explore the course ofthe Niger, in Africa, we find the following account of a sacrifice offered annually at Kiama. "This is the eve of the Behum Salah, or Great Prayer Day, on which day, every one here, who pos sesses the means, is obliged to slaughter either a bullock or a sheep ; and those who may not have money sufficient to procure a whole one, are compelled to purchase a portion ofthe latter, at least. The Mallams make a practice of slaughter ing the sheep which may have been their companion in their peregrinations for the past year ; ^tnd as soon as the feast is ovct, they procure another to supply its place, and to undergo the same fate on the following year." After describing the religious ceremonies of the day, Mr. Lander proceeds: " When the priest had finished, he descended from the hillock, and, with his assistants, slaughtered a sheep, which had been bound and brought to him for sacrifice. The blood of the ani mal was caught in a calabash ; and the king, and the most devoted (devout) of his subjects, washed their hands in it, and sprinkled some on the ground." The very remarkable analogy between this African cere mony and the Jewish passover, and other sacred ordinances, is too striking to require comment. Amongst many other savage nations, the custom of an offering is so common, that a glass of water is never drank, or a morsel of food made use of, without a little of it being first thrown upon the ground, as an offering to their deity or fetish. This, and many other instances of sacrifice, to be found in the best accounts of the American and the African savages, would be, of themselves, sufficient to prove, most distinctly, their descent, in both cases, from Adam. For it has always been admitted, that the ordinance of sacrifice could have, in no way, occurred to the human mind but by a direct command from the Creator, such as must have been given to our first *This most natural idea of beginning the circle of the year with the Spring, is highly interesting, when found to exist m a savage country like America. , - The ancients were of the same opinion, as we find from many passages in their writings ; and especially in those beautitul lines in Vol. II.— P ' the second Georgic, where the Poet describes the effect of Spring and proceeds thus : Non alios prima crescentis origine mundi Illuxisse dies, aliumve habuisse tenorem Crediderim ; ver ilhid erat, ver magnus agebat Orbis, et hibernis parcebant flatibus Euri, Cum primum lucem pecudes hausere, virumque Ferrea progenies duris caput extulit arvis, Immissajqueferrc silvis, ct sidera clrao. — Gear. 2d, 336. * It is a circumstance not unworthy of remark in this place, lhat the name of our first parent Adam was bestowed upon him from the red earth, from which he sprung ; Adam having this signification in the Hebrew tongue. •J- " Blow up the trumpet in the new moon, in the time appointed, on our solemn feast day. "For this is a statute for Israel, and a law of the Godol Jacob.1' — Psalm lxxxi. 3, 4. \ Hunter's North America. 114 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. parents themselves ; and which, in the case of their'two eldest children, led to the acceptance ofthe one, and the rejection of the other, from the presence and the absence of belief or faith in its efficacy. From Cain and Abel, and their descendants, we hear of a continual course of sacrifice, both in the line of the true believers, and in heathen nations, down to the times of Christianity; whence it has been carried on, in Christian countries, by the new dispensation ; and, in the heathen na tions, by the varied course of blind superstition, common to a state of degenerate man. In Mr. Mariner's sketch of the Friendly Islands, we are informed, that the savage of Tonga believe in gods, or su preme beings, who have the power of dispensing good and evil to mankind, according to merit ; and that there are also, evil spirits, or mischievous gods, who torment the wicked, as a punishment for their deeds. The respect which they pay to these imaginary beings is so great and universal that scarcely any instance is known of direct impiety, though they consider many things meritorious which we consider criminal. Their ideas of the origin of the world are so singular, and so strong an indirect proof of their original descent, that I shall here mention them. They believe that originally, there was nd land above the waters of the sea; but that when one of their gods, named Tangaloa, was fishing in the ocean, his hook became fixed at the bottom; he exerted his strength, and presently there appeared, above the surface of the waters, several points of rock, which increased in number and extent, the more he drew his line. The rocky bottom of the ocean was now fast advancing to the surface, when, unfortunately, the line broke, and the Tonga islands remain to show the incom pleteness of the operation. The earth thus brought to the light of day, soon became replete with all kinds of plants and animals, (such as exist in an imaginary island, called Bolotoo, or the residence of the gods,) but they were of an inferior quality, and subject to decay and death. Tangaloa now sent two of his sons to dwell in Tonga, and to divide the land between them. But one of these sons was indus trious, and the other idle, and envious of his brother, whom at length he killed. On which his father confined him, and his race, to the Tonga islands for ever, to be black in their persons, and to have bad canoes ; while he sent the children of his murdered son into a distant land, to be white in their colour, as their minds'were pure ; to be wise and rich, and to have axes and large canoes in the greatest abundance. That this singular tradition, in these the most remote islands ofthe earth, must have been handed down from their continental progenitors, clearly appears from some of their customs, which bear a close analogy to those of ancient Asia, as well as from some words in their language, which will be afterwards noticed. At their funerals, they wound the head, and cut their flesh with knives and shells, as a testimony of respect to the memory of the dead. This is a custom which we find ex- . pressly forbidden in the 19th chapter of Leviticus, 28th verse " Ye shall not make any cutting in your flesh for the dead, nor print any marks upon you; I am the Lord." The natives of these islands also practise circumcision, a custom so re markable, that it could only have been derived from the very ancient religious rite, commanded at first to Abraham. They also offer sacrifices to their gods ; and, as in other countries, an innocent victim, such as a young child, is considered most likely to expiate sin. This sacred rite, so universal in the world, and one which unassisted reason never could have conceived, is, of itself, sufficient to show the primitive descent of these distant islanders, from the parent stock of Noah When we add to these remarkable customs and traditions, the conclusive evidence of the common tradition of a general deluge; and, also, the equally convincing proof to be derived from an almost identity of language in many general express ions, common to all nations ; we cannot resist the conclusion to which we are led ; we must admit, that accident alone could never have produced such remarkable identity; and, conse quently, that the truth of the Mosaic record is fully established, as to the gradual descent of all the present human race, from the one family preserved at the deluge. It only now remains for us, after having thus found such circumstantial evidence of a common descent, to consult the most authentic history on this interesting point, and we shall find the strongest reason to give up ail hesitation or doubt that may have still lurked in our minds. The historian I am about to cite, is Josephus, a writer, whose works are of such importance to history in general, and to Scripture history in particular, that many have not hesitated to consider him nearly in the light of an inspired authority. Though this may be going too far, yet it must be admitted, that this remarkable man, from the uncommon circumstances in which he was placed, at a period of the Jewish history, avowedly miracu lous; from his great candour, his extensive learning, and admitted probity, in the difficult situation in which he was placed, as the intimate friend of the enemy of his country, can scarcely be looked upon in the light of a common histo rian. When we add to these, his almost miraculous escapes from death, his prophetic dreams, and his luminous writings, preserved entire, while so many others, of that period, have been for ever lost, one can scarcely fail to be convinced that this man was raised up by the providence of God, for great and useful purposes, which no subsequent writer could be expected to accomplish, with a like authority. This valuable historian, in taking a general view of the early history of the world after the deluge, distinctly shows the origin and names of a large proportion of the nations then known to the Romans. He was addressing this review of the early events on the earth, to an enlightened and learned people, amongst whom, as the intimate friend of ihe Emperor Titus, he held a high rank. He appears, in his writings against Apion and other Greek authors, who had attempted to throw a doubt upon his accounts of the early history ofthe Jews, to have had the most full and minute acquaintance with the whole range of Grecian and Egyptian literature, and was, therefore, by his equally intimate acquaintance with the his tory and traditions of the Jews themselves, perhaps the only individual that can be named, who was qualified to view the subject in a wide and unprejudiced field. Josephus, then, in taking a general view of the early events in the post-diluvian world, distinctly shows the origin of many of the nations, then known to the Greeks by other names than they originally had ; and proceeds thus : " After this, they were dispersed abroad on account of their languages, and went out, by colonies, every where; and each colony took possession of that land which it lighted upon, and unto which God led them, both the inland and maritime countries. There were some, also, who passed over the sea in ships, and inhabited the islands; and some of these nations do still retain the denominations which were given them by their founders; but some have lost them also; and some have only admitted certain changes in them, that they might be the more intelligible to the inhabitants ; and they were the Greeks who became the authors of such mutations ; for when, in aftei ages, they grew potent, they claimed to themselves the glory of antiquity, giving names to the nations that sounded well in Greek, that they might be better understood among them selves ; and setting agreeable forms of government over them, as if they were a people derived from themselves." — Antiqui ties, book 1st, chap. v. Without entering more fully' into the clear account given of the dispersion of mankind, in the 6th chapter of the first book of the Antiquities of the Jews, I shall here content myself with strongly recommending its perusal to the atten tion of any one desirous of following out this interesting sub ject; and with referring to the annexed genealogical scheme,, which comprises the whole information given us by Jose phus on this point; it will clearly show, ata glance, the outline of the first dispersion of mankind from Noah. The subsequent stages, and more minute ramifications of this vast tree, must be traced out by history, and by the customs, tra ditions and languages, now existing among the nations. We may now proceed to the consideration of the identity in some parts of the languages of various nations, before al luded to ; but this part of our subject has been already so ably handled by Dr. Mason Good, in his Book of Nature, that I shall not hesitate, (in adopting his views of the subject,) to present to my readers an extract from that most able work, which will place the subject before them in the clearest pos sible light. " Articulate language," says that able writer, " is of two kinds, oral and legible; the one, penned, or printed, and ad dressed to the eye ; the other, spoken, and addressed-to the ear. Written language distinguishes civilized man from savage man, as speech distinguishes man in general from the brute creation. It is of so high an antiquity, that, like that of the voice, it has been supposed, by many good and wise men, in all ages, to have been a supernatural gift, communicated either at the creation, or upon some special occasion, not long after wards ; yet there seems no satisfactory ground for either of these opinions. " That it was not communicated, like oral language, at the creation of mankind, appears highly probable, because, first, it by no means possesses the universality which, under such GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 115 circumstances, we should have reason to expect, and which oral language actually displays. No tribe, or people, have ever been found without a tongue, but multitudes without a legible character; and amongst the different tribes and nations that do possess it, it is far from evincing that unity, or simi larity in the structure of its elements, which maybe traced in those of speech, and which must be the natural result of an origin from one common source ; for the system of writing, among some nations, consists in pictures, or marks represent ative of things ; among others, in letters, or marks, symboli cal of sounds ; besides, there does not seem to be the same necessity for Divine interposition in the formation of written characters, as in that of oral language ; the latter existing, the former might be expected gradually to follow, in some shape or other, from that imitative, and inventive genius which be longs to man, especially in a civilized state. " With respect to oral language, those who have most deep ly studied the subject have generally come to the conclusion, that nothing short of Divine Power could. have given rise to so wonderful a gift. " Some schools of philosophy, indeed, have supposed, that man, when created, had no greater gift of tongue than is found amongst the various kinds of brutes ; and that it was only by gradual steps in civilization that perfect language arose. This is arguing upon the same principle as the strange opin ions of Buffon, and others, who derive the race of man from monkeys, and who, in exhibiting the ourang-outang, have hence denominated him the satyr, or man of the woods. " If the above opinion were admitted to be just, we should have a right to expect that the language of a people would al ways be commensurate with their civilization. It so hap pens, however, that although language, whatever be its origin, is the most difficult science in the world, (if a science it may be called,) it is one in which savages of all kinds exhibit more proficiency than in any other. No circumnavigator has ever found the inhabitants of the most distant islands deficient in this respect, even where, in every thing else, they were al most in a state of nature. " There is, in all the languages of the earth, a general unity of principle, which evidently bespeaks a general unity of 'origin; a family character and likeness, that cannot pos sibly be the effect of accident. The common divisions, and rules of one language, are the common divisions and rules of the whole ; and hence, every national grammar is, in a cer tain sense, and, to a certain extent, an universal grammar, and he who has learnt one foreign tongue, has imperceptibly made some progress towards a knowledge of other tongues. Diversity of language consists, not in different sets of articu lations, but only in a difference in their combinations and ap plications. No people have ever been found so barbarous as to be without articulate sounds ; and no people so refined and fastidious, as to wish to add to the common stock. "But independently of an uniform circle of articulations, and an uniform system of grammar, there is also an uniform use of the very same terms, in a great variety of languages, to express the same ideas, which cannot possibly be accounted for, except upon the principle of one common origin and mother tongue. I mean, particularly, those kind of terms, which, un der every change of time, and every variety of climate, or of moral or political fortune, might be most naturally expected to remain immutable ,- as, for example, those of family rela tionship, and patriarchal respect, or descriptive of such other ideas as cannot but have occurred very generally to the mind, as those of earth, sky, death, Deity, &c." I do not here propose following Dr. Mason Good through the whole course of his most interesting research, but shall merely select a few of the most striking examples, which must be fully sufficient for my present general purpose. "In our own language, the term^ajBa, and father, describe the paternal character, both are as common to the Greek lan- fuage as our own, and have, probably, alike arisen from the Iebrew source ; and it may fearlessly be affirmed, that there is scarcely any language or dialect in the world, polished or barbarous, continental or insular, employed by blacks or whites, in which the same idea is not expressed by the radi cal of the one or the other of these terms. The term father is still found in the Sanscrit, and has decended to ourselves, as well as to almost all other nations in Europe, through the medium of the Greek, Gothic, and Latin. Papa is still more obviously a genuine Hebrew term, and has a much wider spread over Asia, Africa, and the most barbarous islands of the Pacific, extending from Egypt to Guinea, and from Ben gal to Sumatra and New Zealand. " The terms for son are somewhat more numerous than those for father s but one or other of them may be traced al most as extensively, as may the words brother, sister, and even daughter, which last, branching out, like the term father, from the Sanscrit, extends northward as far as Scandinavia. " The generic names' for the Deity, are chiefly the three following, Al, or Allah, Theus,_ or Deus, and God. The first is Hebrew, the second Sanscrit, the third Persian ; and be sides these, there is scarcely a term of any kind by which the Deity, is disignated in any part ofthe world, civilized or sa vage. Among the barbarians of the Philippine Islands, the word is Allatallah, obviously the God of Gods, or the Supreme God, and it is the very same term in Sumatra. In the former islands, we meet with the terms malahet for a spirit, which is both direct Hebrew and Arabic ; is and dua, one and two, which are Sanscrit and Greek; tambor, u, drum, which is also Sanscrit ;'and inferno, hell, a Latin compound of Pelasgic or other Oriental origin. In the Friendly, and other clusters of the Polynesian Islands, the term for God is Tooa ; and in New Guinea, or Papuan, Dewa, both obviously from the Sanscrit, whence Eatooaa, among the former, is God the Spirit, or the Divine Spirit, ea meaning a spirit in these islands. They also apply the Hebrew el, as the Pelasgians and the Greeks did, to denote the sun; whence ellangee means the sky, or sun's residence, and papa-ellangee, father of the sky or "The most common term for death, amongst all nations, is, mor, mart, or mut. It is mut in Hebrew and Phoenician ; it is mor, or mart, in Sanscrit, Persian, Greek, and Latin ; it is the same in almost all the European languages ; and it was with no small astonishment, the learned lately discovered that it is the same in Otaheite, and some other of the Polynesian Islands, in which mor-ai is well known to signify a sepulchre, or, literally, theplace or region ofthe dead; ci meaning a place or region in the Otaheitan, precisely as it does in Greek ; an elegant and expressive compound, which is, perhaps, only to be equalled by the Hebrew zalmut, literally death shade, but, in our Bibles, rendered shadow of death.* " Sir, in our own language, is the common title of respect ; and the same term is employed, in the same sense, through out every quarter of the globe. In Hebrew, sir, or sher, im ports a ruler, or governor; in Sanscrit and Persian, it means the organ ofthe head itself; in Greek, it is synonymous witl) Lord; in Arabia, Turkey, and amongst the Peruvians ih South America, it is employed as in the Greek ; and is not es sentially different in Spain, Portugal, Italy, and France. In Germany, Holland, and the contiguous countries, the s of the Hebrew sher, is dropped, and it is converted into her. " Man, in Hebrew, occurs under the form of maneh, a verb signifying to discern or discriminate, and, as a noun, signify ing a discriminating being. In Sanscrit, we have both these senses. Hence, menu, in both Sanscrit and ancient Egyptian, means Adam, or the first man, emphatically the man. Menes was the first king of Egypt, and Minos the chief judge amongst the Greeks. Hence, also, in Greek, men and menos, signifying mind, and the Latin mens, the mind, is the same. In the Gothic, and in all the northern dialects of E urope, man imports the same idea as in our own tongue. In Bengal and Hindostan, it is manshee ; in the Malayan, manizu ; in Japan ese, manio ; in Atooi, and in the Sandwich islands generally, tane, tanato, or tangi, while manawe imports the mind or spirit ; and in New Guinea, or Papuan, it is sonaman. In this ut most extremity of the southern world, we also meet with the term Sytan, for Satan, or the source of evil ; and Wath (Ger man Goth,) for God. But it may perhaps be observed, that, in all the southern dialects of Europe, we meet with no such term as man, nor even in the Latin, from which so many Eu ropean languages are derived, and which has liomo for man. Yet, it is clear, that homo itself is derived from the common root. Its adjective is hu-man-us, human, while man, or min, is found in every inflection below the nominative case, as lio- min-is, &c. . the former nominative itself was ho-men, from whence it is clear that ho is redundant, and did not originally belong to the word. The negative of homo is ne-homo, now pronounced nemo in the Latin ; in which latter the ho has been dropped. The ho is also omitted in the feminine of homo, which is fe-min-a, and was, at first, feo min-a, from feo, to produce; literally, the producer of man or min. From feo- min-a, we have also our own, and the common Saxon term wo-man, the/, and v, or w, being convertible letters in all languages, of which we have a familiar instance in the words vater and father, in German, and English." * In Otaheite, the natives direct their voyages by the sun, moon, and stars ; and they have names for many of the constellations, re sembling, iu several instances, those of the Greeks. 116 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. All the above cases, and many more that might be pro duced, are confederating proofs, that the various languages and dialects that are now, or ever have been spoken, have originated from one common source ; and that the various nations that now exist, or ever have existed since the deluge,- have originated from one common cradle or quarter of the world ; and that that quarter was an eastern region, as we might, a priori, have supposed, from Asia having been the first land peopled after the flood. " But besides this singular coincidence in language, over the whole inhabited earth, there is, also, a most remarkable confirmation of the same unity of origin, in the correspondence- between all nations whatever, where any traces of the art of arithmetic exist, in the employment of a decimal gradation. " Whence comes it to pass, that blacks and whites, in every quarter, the savage and the civilized, wherever a human community has been found, have neither stopped short of, nor exceeded a series of ten in their calculations^ and that as soon as they have reached this number, they have, uniformly, begun a second series with the first unit in the scale, as one ten, two ten, &c. ? Why have not some nations broke off at five, or others proceeded to fifteen before they began a second series ? Or why have the generality of them had any thing more than one single and infinitesimal series, and conse quently, a new name for every unit ? Such an universality cannot possibly have existed, except from a like universality of cause ; and we have, in this single instance alone, a proof equal to mathematical demonstration, that the different lan guages into which it enters, and of which it forms so promi nent a feature, must, assuredly, have originated not from accident, at different times, and in different places, but from direct determination and design, at the same time, and in the someplace ; that it must be the result of one grand, compre hensive, and original system. Such system could not have been of human invention .- what then remains for us, but to confess that it must have been of Divine and Supernatural communication ? " Such examples, though few, are abundantly sufficient to establish the -point; and they even lead us to a second and catenating fact, namely, that the primary and original language of man, that language divinely and supernaturally communi cated to him, in the early ages of the world, has been broken up, confounded, and scattered, in various fragments, over every part of the habitable globe ; that the same sort of disruption that has confounded former continents and oceans, and inter mingled the productions natural to different hemispheres and latitudes, this same Power has assaulted the world's prime val tongue, has overwhelmed a great part of it, wrecked the remainder on distant and opposite shores, and turned up new materials out of the general convulsion : and if it were possi ble for us to meet with an ancient historical record, which professed to contain a plain and simple statement of such supernatural communication, and such subsequent confusion of tongues, it would be a book, which, independently of any other information, would be amply entitled to our attention, for it would thus bear an index of commanding authority on its own forehead. " Such a book is now in our hands. Let us prize it, for it must be the Word of God, as it bears the direct stamp and testimony of His works."* CONCLUSIONS To which we are naturally led by the general tenor of the fore going inquiry. Having completed the proposed general survey of the sys tem of geological phenomena, on every part of the earth's surface, let u s now take a retrospective view of the various con clusions to which we have been led, in regarding the Crea tion, and the laws to which all created beings have been submitted by the Almighty. And, first, we have found it unreasonable, and unphilosophical, to subscribe to the doc trines, too commonly taught, wherein the first production of all things is supposed to have arisen by the mere laws of na ture, or from secondary causes, within a chaotic or imperfect mass ; because, in adopting this opinion, we find ourselves as far removed as ever from the origin of things of which we * The Book of Nature, by Dr. Mason Good. were in search : for even were we to admit, with the Wer- nerian school of philosophy, the primary existence of an aqueous chaos, and that the laws of nature have, in an indefi nitely long period of time, gradually produced the beautiful order and arrangement we now admire in the universe ; we should still have to account for the component parts of that chaotic mass, which could not have come into being by any of the known laws of nature : and being thus driven to acknow ledge a Creative Power, capable of producing even a chaos out of nothing, and of establishing those wonderful laws which now govern the world, we should find ourselves, without any available object, derogating from the Wisdom and Power of a Creator, by denying a perfect creation of all things in the beginning. If we are forced to this conclusion, with regard to the actual structure of the mineral body of the earth, we are even more forcibly convinced of this great truth, by a survey ofthe animal and vegetable world with which it is fur nished. For when we consider the evident design, which is so remarkably displayed in the structure of these bodies, we must feel satisfied, that though the laws of nature may, and do, now regulate them, they never could have, at first, pro duced them. We have found, that as it is unreasonable to sup pose the first man to have ever been an infant, or the first oak tree to have sprung from an acorn, we are forced to the adop tion of the only other alternative left for our choice ; and we must, therefore, conclude, that both animal and vegetable pro ductions were, at first, created ip their mature and perfect forms, and were then submitted to those laws which have ever since been in action in the world. And when we are unavoidably led thus far by our reason alone, and when we then consult the only History of the early events of the world that is within our reach, we find this Record announcing, in the most unequivocal terms, that " in the begining, God created the heaven and the earth ;" and that, "in six days He made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, resting on the seventh day, and hallowing it," as a day of rest and of worship for all the generations of men. And with respect to the nature and duration of those six days, so particularly defined in the Record, which it pleased the Creator, for an obviously wise and beneficent end, to occupy in this incomprehensible work of creation, we can have no reasonable doubt that they were such days as are now, and ever have been, occasioned by one revolution of the earth on its axis ; first, because a perfect creation may be as easily the work of one day, or of one moment, as of thousands of years ; secondly, because the supposed longer periods of philos ophy, were only called for in the erroneous idea of gradual perfection, from an imperfect creation, which idea we have found such reason altogether to condemn ; and thirdly, be cause that Record, on the evidence of which our confidence has been confirmed, on the subject of perfect creation, has dis tinctly defined each of these days by its evening and its morning, which terms, so often repeated, can be, in no way, applicable to the supposed indefinite periods above alluded to. Secondly,— We have found reason to conclude, that the first great geological change which took place after the creation of the solid mass of the globe, was occasioned by that fiat of the Almighty, on the third day, by which the waters, equally covering the whole mineral surface during the first and second days, were " gathered together into one place," that the "dryland" might appear; and as this " gathering together of the waters" of the sea, could not have taken place, according to the laws of gravity and of fluids, by accumulation, it must have been effected by a depression of a portion of the surface of the earth, into which the waters would naturally flow. This depression could not have taken place without a partial derangement of a thin portion of the earth's surface ; and from this partial derangement, acted upon by the laws which have, at all times, governed the ocean, we derive the earliest secondary formations, now found rest ing upon the primitive mineral mass. Thirdly,— We discover an adequate and reasonable origin for a great portion of the other secondary formations, now found upon the earth, in the action, during a period of six teen hundred and fifty-six years, of those laws of nature, by which a constant removal of mineral debris is taking place, from the dry land, to the bed of the ocean : and in considering the existing action of those laws which govern the waters, we find a natural and easy solution of the problem of hori zontal stratification, and individual mineral arrangement, which has occasioned so many erroneous conclusions in some schools of philosophy. And we further discover the most convincing proof of the erroneous nature of the Wernerian theory, of primitive rocks having been formed in an aqueous chaos, in the GEOLOGY OF SCRIPTURE. 117 circumstance of no primitive creation, such as granite, having ever been discovered amongst what are denominated second ary rocks, although these latter are known to have arisen in the self-same aqueous medium. Fourthly, — We have found, in considering the subject ofthe deluge, that, as the phenomena presented to our consideration, over every part of the present dry lands, correspond minutely with the terms of the Mosaic record, where it informs us of the. intention of the Almighty to destroy the antediluvian dry lands, as well as their inhabitants ; that great and awful judgment must have been occasioned by the gradual inter change of level between the former seas and lands : that we are, consequently, now inhabiting the bed ofthe antediluvian ocean ; and that all the fossil remains of animals, or vegeta bles, now discovered in our rocks or soils, were either em bedded in the course of the gravel formation of the secondary strata, under the waters of the former sea, (as in the case of the marine productions in chalk, and many other calcareous marine formations;) or were thrown into their present situa tions by the waters of the deluge, and embedded (as in the case of quadrupeds, vegetables, human beings and other land productions,) in the soft soils and strata so abundantly formed at that eventful period, by the preternatural supply of mate rials for secondary formations. Fifthly, — As it can be plainly demonstrated, by existing causes, and existing phenomena, that the animals and plants, the fossil remains of which are now found in uncongenial climates, could not have existed in a living state, where their remains are often now discovered ; as a general inundation could not possibly take place upon the globe, without the entire destruction of animal life, and the total overthrow of the whole vegetable kingdom; as it is a well known law of nature, that animal bodies, when destroyed by drowning, invariably float at one period of their decomposition; and that almost all vegetable substances, being specifically lighter than water, must always come to the surface, at least for a time; and as such floating' animal and vegetable bodies could not but follow the action of the winds, the tides, and, more especially, the currents of the then universal ocean, some of which currents have, at all times, a tendency from the equa torial regions towards the poles; from all these several rea sons, we cannot come to any other rational conclusion, but that all the fossil remains of land productions, over the whole surface of the present dry lands, became embedded in their present situations at the period of the Mosaic deluge ; and that, consequently, the climates of the earth have been, in no way, suddenly changed, as some philosophers have thought it necessary to suppose ; but that, on the contrary, the ante diluvian animals and plants must have been distributed over the various climates of the former dry lands, and in nearly the same latitudes in which similar existing species are now respectively found. Sixthly, — As we have found the most conclusive proofs, that, amongst other animal fossils, the remains of the human race are not unfrequently found, although, in that small nu merical proportion to those of other species, which the sacred history would lead us to expect, we must entirely reject those doctrines of philosophy which teach a gradual perfection in the animal creation; and which suppose that man was not yet created, at the period when those animals, the remains of which we now discover, existed on the earth. Seventhly, — We feel our belief in the Mosaic record, of all these wonderful events, strengthened and confirmed by the many traditional, and other proofs that have been brought forward, of all the present human race, in every climate of the world, having sprung from one family, and from one pe riod, which period was that ofthe Mosaic deluge ; and that that post-diluvian family origin must have first arisen in Asia, is proved by the affinity of so many common expressions in the languages of even the most remote islands, with the original languages of that portion of the globe. Lastly, — As all these conclusions, to which we have been naturally led, in the course of this inquiry, tend to corrobo rate, in the most distinct manner, the history of the early events on the earth, as given in the Mosaic, and other books of Scripture, our confidence in the unerring accuracy of these records, is firmly established ; for by such collateral evidence we should try the veracity of any other ancient history : but when we add to the usual qualifications of a correct historian, the incomprehensible guidance of divine inspiration, so clearly evinced by numerous prophecies distinctly fulfilled, we feel that the conclusions to which our inquiries have conducted us, by the simple evidence of reason and of facts, are only such as might have been anticipated, when we consider the unerring source from which this divine guidance or inspira tion flowed; and that both the events, and the inspired record of them, which has been so wonderfully preserved for our information, are supernatural and divine. LECTURES ON PORTIONS OF THE PSALMS BY ANDREW THOMPSON, D. D. late minister of st. georoe's, Edinburgh. LECTURE I. " Give ear to my words, 0 Lord; consider my meditation. Hearken unto the voice of my cry, my King, and my God ¦¦ for unto thee will I pray. My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, 0 Lord; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up. For thou art not a God that hath pleasure in wickedness; neither shall evil dwell with ihee. The foolish shall not stand in thy sight ; thou hatest all work ers of iniquity. Tlwu shalt destroy them that speak leasing ; the Lord will abhor the bloody and deceitful man. Bus as for me, I will come into thy house in the multitude of thy mer cy ; and in thy fear will I worship toward thy holy temple." — PSALM V. 1. — 8. You have been often addressed on the subject of prayer, — on the obligations you are under to engage in it ; on the im portance and necessity of attending to it ; and on the encour agement which you have respecting it, from the example and experience of the people of God in every age. Now, let me ask you, if you really make ita part of your Christian work? Do you ever pray ? Are you frequently at a throne of grace ? Is it the habit of your life to "make your requests known unto God ?" Can you affirm with truth that, regularly, or as often as occasion requires, you ask in order to receive from him the various blessings which are essential to you, both in this life, "and in that which is to come?" Just consider what judgment must be pronounced upon you, on the sup position that conscience commands you to answer these ques tions with a negative, and that you must be counted among those who " restrain prayer before God." In the first place, you act in opposition to your sense and your confession of what is right. You know that you ought to pray. You are convinced that this is incumbent upon you. You allow that those are far wrong who neglect such an in stitution. And how then can you repel the charge of incon sistency, when prayer, notwithstanding, is excluded from your practical system? We desire you not to pray, merely in compliance with our earnest exhortation, or in conformity to the pious example of your brethren. In this, as in all other cases of a similar description, we say, " let every one of you be fully persuaded in his own mind." Take the matter into consideration. Examine it attentively and thoroughly. Try it by the test of reason ; weigh it in the balance of the sanc tuary ; adopt every proper mode of bringing it to a just and conclusive issue. And if the inquiry shall terminate in showing you, that you are not bound to pray — that there is no propriety in praying — that neither your comfort nor your in terest is concerned in it — then, do not pray. We ask you not in any case to act contrary to the serious and decided dictates of your own mind. And, above all, we ask you not to act thus in a case like the present, in which a conscious approval of the exercise is necessary to prevent it from being at once unacceptable and profane. But, on the other hand, if the les son which you learn from Scripture — if the determination of the question to which you have come — be, that men should, and must pray — and that you can learn any other lesson on this point from Scripture, or that you can come to any other determination of the question respecting it, as professing Christians, may be held impossible — then have we not cause to wonder and to complain that, in spite of what you have learnt and of what you admit to be your duty, you are as negligent of prayer, as if you had learnt, and as if you maintained, that it was not your duty ? You acknowledge that you ought to pray — nevertheless you forget, or you refuse to pray. Is not this a palpable and unworthy contradiction in your character ? And why should you permit it to exist ? What excuse can you bring forward to justify it? Or how can you account for it, except by tracing it to an ungodliness and a depravity in the heart which overpowers the efforts of your understanding, and proclaims your bondage to that sin from which it is the very province of prayer to seek deliver ance ? We call upon you to banish this practical solecism. Let your conduct correspond with your real and avowed con victions. And let the first voice of your supplications be for grace to make you love what you know to be dutiful, and to infuse into your soul the spirit, while it guides you to the practice, of true devotion. But we must remind you, in the second place, that by neglecting prayer, you resist the authority of God. Are not you aware, my friends, that God has commanded you to pray ?— that he has not left you to discover this by mere in ference, but has announced it in terms not more precise than they are emphatic ?— and that the injunction holds such acon- spicuous place, and is so frequently repeated in his word, as to show the vast importance which he attaches to the manner in which it is treated ? And, aware of these things, how can you venture to treat it with contempt, and yet hope to pros per? What title have you to expect that, in this particular, more than in any other, you can disobey God with impunity ? I hink you that he does not mean what he declares, or that he will not fulfil what he has promised, or that he will not execute what he has threatened ? Or can any apology be wisely or successfully pleaded for withholding from him the homage which he demands, and refusing to "put up to him those petitions, which are equally called for as tokens of sub mission to his will, and of respect for his character? No, my friends : it is from the throne of unlimited sovereignty that he speaks, when he commands you to pray ; and diso bedience to this is just as criminal and just as dangerous as LECTURES ON PORTIONS OF THE PSALMS. 119 disobedience to any other precept of his law. I say that he speaks to you from the throne of unlimited sovereignty, that you may be deterred from trifling with his behests when he exacts from you the tribute of prayer. But I must add that his throne of sovereignty is a throne of grace ; and that if the commandment comes armed with thesanction of stern author ity, it also comes recommended by the charms of tender mer cy. God is the hearer of prayer, in virtue of his compassion to sinners : and, had he not been a being in whom compas sions abound, so far from giving you access to his presence, and laying it upon you as a peremptory obligation and an ex press duty to make use of that privilege, he would have for bidden you to address him, and shut his ear against your cry, and left you to perish in your apostacy. But, looking upon you with pity, and desirous to extend to you every needful blessing, he is ready to listen to your applications ; and, in order to secure, as it were, your coming to him that you may have your every want supplied and your every evil remedied he not only opens up " a new and living way" of approach, but he clothes himself in majesty, and, by issuing his high mandate, shuts you up to the necessity of praying to him, under the penalties of disobedience to the united voice of righteous authority and unmerited love. And I put it to you, my friends, how you can bring yourselves to be guilty of such disobedience, and yet go on to live as if you were sub mitting to the divine will by being men of piety and prayer O do not continue any longer in such a delusion as this. Either cease to neglect prayer before God, or cease to think that you are submissive to him. Either be habitually given to this exercise, or acknowledge that you are self-convicted rebels against the government of him who " ruleth over all." And Temember that rebellion here is as fatal to those who are chargeable with it, as if they had violated the most important enactment of the moral law. And now I have to state, in the third place, that without prayer, vain will be to you all the provisions that are made in the Gospel for your deliverance and happiness. The Gospel is a dispensation of divine wisdom and goodness. It pro poses to bestow upon sinful men the benefits of salvation. But it proposes to bestow them in a certain way, and accord ing to a certain scheme. And nothing is clearer than that they cannot be received and enjoyed without a humble acqui escence, on the part of those to whom they are communicated, in the method by which it has pleased God to impart them, Now, do you know any ground for thinking that these bene fits can ever belong to those who do not pray for them? It is distinctly taught, that if you ask them in prayer, believing, they shall become yours. But where is it taught within the whole compass of the Bible, that the prayerless sinner shall be saved ? — that you need not supplicate one of the blessings of redemption, and yet be as sure of obtaining them all as if you had ? — that pardon has even been procured, or that hea ven has ever been reached, by a single individual who has not sincerely felt, and cordially put forth the desire for them ? There is no such thing taught in the Bible ; and you must be sensible that the very contrary of this is what the Bible uni formly maintains and inculcates. You cannot fail to perceive that, agreeably to the constitution of the Gospel, salvation is the end at which you aim, and prayer the means by which you are to attain it ; that the connection which God has establish ed between these is close and inseparable ; and that the hus bandman may as well expect to reap a harvest where no seed has been sown, and no culture bestowed, as that you can in herit the fruits of Christ's labour, though they have never been to you the object of devout and believing supplication And, impressed with the truth of these things, on what prin ciple, or with what consistency, can you neglect to pray ? Is not such neglect tantamount to a deliberate casting away of every spiritual and every eternal hope ? Is it not equivalent to saying that you grudge to pray more than you wish to be redeemed ? And, if persisted in, must it not necessarily have the effect of separating you for ever from God, and Christ, and immortality ? Yes, brethren; such must be the inevitable and awful consequence of your being strangers to prayer. And what is more, I defy you, by any ingenuity you can employ. to get quit of this alternative, or, continuing to believe in the Bible, to flatter yourselves for a moment, that it is either of trivial importance or of the least uncertainty. I intimate to you a truth which you cannot gainsay, and which should go home to the heart of every one of you with awakening power, that while God will confer upon those who pray for it as they ought, not only to the half, but even to the whole of his king dom—not one good thing, as pertaining to salvation, will he convey into your lot, if you persevere in disregarding the in strumentality by which it is his holy and sovereign pleasure that you shall seek for it, and come to the possession of it. Your guilt shall remain uncancelled. Your hearts shall be still under " the bondage of corruption." The Holy Ghost will remain at a distance from you. Heaven will refuse to unbar its everlasting doors. The terrors of unpropitiated and undeprecated wrath will hang over you, and close in upon you, and. at last bury you in utter and irretrievable ruin. And all this misery will come upon you with the unspeakable aggra vation that you might have escaped it, had not you so " hard ened your heart" against God, that you would not even pray to him — that you would not implore from him the deliverance which you needed — that you would not offer up one cordial petition for that which he was willing to grant you, and which he is now commanding you to ask for, that you may receive it, and be happy for ever. O then be persuaded to go to the throne of grace. Lift up your soul to him who delights in the supplications of the penitent. Join yourselves to them of whom we can say, in the language of mingled admiration and pleasure, " Behold ! they pray." And let this exercise be so dear to you, and of so much importance in your regard, that you shall sympathize with the Psalmist, and catch his devout spirit, and enter into his pious resolutions When he thus speaks, " Give ear to my words, O Lord, consider my medi tation. Hearken unto the voice of my cry, my King and my God ; for unto thee will I pray. My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O Lord ; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up." 1. It becomes us, my friends, to form and adopt the pur pose of the Psalmist. His purpose was to pray ; and that purpose should be ours. We have many motives and induce ments to engage in this exercise. And if we consider these aright, and submit to that influence which they are fitted to hold over our feelings, they will speedily and effectually de termine us to address ourselves to God in these words, "Un to thee will I pray." We will be satisfied that it is our high honour, our distinguished privilege, our bounden duty, our purest comfort, and our truest advantage : and, viewing it in these lights, we cannot but resolve to attend to it, and to give ourselves to it, as an observance ofthe utmost consequence to our welfare. Even the speculative conviction of its excel lence, as thus contemplated, must, if we are actuated by the ordinary principles of a rational nature, constrain us to fix our attachment upon it, and to employ it as the means of im provement and of happiness. But how much more powerful will be our regard for it, and how much more deeply and de cidedly will it affect our minds and our practice, if we know from personal experience all the advantages which it confers, and all the joys which it imparts ! Having felt what it is to commit ourselves to God in prayer — having received the mer cy to pardon, and the grace to help that we implored — having been rescued from dangers, supported under trials, fortified against temptations, strengthened for duties, and comforted amidst sorrows, in answer to the petitions that we had offer ed up — this must endear the throne of grace to us, attract our hearts to it, and encourage us to make it our habitual and chosen refuge, amidst all the vicissitudes, and in all the cir cumstances, of our Christian pilgrimage. And, aware how apt the world is to break in upon our devotional dutie's ; and how much we are' in hazard, from that and various other cau ses, of neglecting to perform these as they ought to be per formed, or of postponing them to concerns and occupations of a secular nature, we shall just feel the stronger necessity for "building ourselves up" in this pious resolution, and making a covenant with our own minds, that we will allow nothing to come in between God and our souls, but that, in whatever we are employed, wherever we are placed, and whatever be- fals us, " unto him will we pray." 2. Then it will be with great earnestness that we pray to God. We will not go about the duty in a cold, formal, or perfunctory manner, as if it were a matter of indifference to us, whether we were successful in our application or not. This would be unsuitable to the character of the Being to whom our application is made, and to the importance of the blessings that we are desirous to obtain. The God whom we address, looks with a jealous eye on the frame of mind in which we approach him, and could not fail to be angry with us, if he saw us careless and unconcerned, either as to the things which we asked from him, or as to the tone of feeling which we cherish, and the mode of supplication which we employed, when bending at his throne. It would be irreve rence and mockery, which would have the effect of bringing upon us a curse, instead of a blessing. And then, if we had no vehemence of desire, and no fervour of expression, would 120 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. it not be a proof that we attached but little importance to the benefits themselves, which yet we profess to seek ? And if we attach but little importance to the benefits which Christ has purchased with his blood, which God has commanded us to aspire after with the utmost sincerity and diligence, and which are, in every aspect indispensable to our present and our eternal advantage — how can we expect that our prayers will meet with the acceptance that is essential to their suc cess, or be attended with any one of the advantages of which prayer fs so productive to the true worshipper ? When we pray to God, therefore, let us be truly anxious that our prayer may experience his favourable regard. Let our hearts be en gaged in the exercise, and engaged in it with an ardour and so licitude becoming the case of those who must have from him what they pray for, or perish. Let us wrestle with the angel of his presence, omitting no importunity of sentiment or of lan guage which the occasion may justify. Let the words which we utter be the vehicle of that earnestness which we feel, and let us beseech him to hear them as coming from the dependants and pensioners of his bounty. Let us meditate with deepest in terest on the extent and urgency of our need, and entreat him to " consider our meditation," and think of the necessities of our condition, and exert his wisdom as well as his mercy, in giving a supply to all our various wants. Let us cry to him with all the fervour of men who have no other refuge but himself, to whom there is no hope but what is to be found in the riches of his grace, and whose ruin is inevitable, unless he will have pity, and send deliverance ; and let us implore him to " harken to the voice of our cry," as the cry of guilty, condemned, helpless, and miserable creatures. And, alive to the unspeakable moment of receiving from him an answer in peace, let us not cease to cherish all this intensity of de sire ; let every dawning day find us in the spirit, and in the attitude, of importunate supplication ; let our powers, when invigorated by the refreshments of sleep and rest, be called forth to the performance of this good work ; and let our minds be continually and earnestly directed to heaven, as the source from which we are to draw whatever is needful for our pil; grimage through life, and for our felicity in a better world. 3. Biit we are not to pray, as if God were unwilling to hear us, and to bestow the blessings that we need. He has revealed himself as the hearer of prayer. He has manifested his readiness to give us whatever our situation requires. " He that spared not his own Son, but freely delivered him up to death for us, how shall he not with him, also freely give us all things ?" And having by this wonderful display of love, and by various affectionate declarations of his word, taught and encouraged us to confide in him for the attain ment of every thing for which we are either permitted or in structed to pray, it follows that our prayers should always be accompanied with lively faith, and with humble hope. Con sidering the representations he has afforded to us of his character, and the assurances he has reiterated us of his mercy, any thing like distrust or despondency is as unbecom ing, as the carelessness and indifference against which we have already warned you. You must honour God, as well as consult your own comfort, by giving place to no doubt or disbelief, when you draw near to him in prayer. Rest im plicitly on the faithfulness of his promises, which are all "yea and amen in Christ Jesus ;" and pleading on the merit of your great High Priest and Intercessor, plead with the boldness, and the expectation of those who know that they "have an advocate with the Father," whom he "heareth al ways," and with whom he is ever " well pleased." But while you " look up" to God with the conviction that he will not turn away your prayer from him, nor his grace from you, let this conviction be mingled with humility, when you re collect your great unworthiness, and the weakness and im perfection of your faith itself. Let it be mingled with sub mission, that you may not be cast down and disappointed, when he withholds any particular blessing which you had asked with peculiar solicitude, and on which you had counted as at once important to your welfare, and certain in its attainment. And let it be mingled with that patience which shall prevent you from repining at delay in the communication of what you have besought your heavenly Father to send, which shall make you still trust in him for the accomplishment of all that con cerns your well-being, notwithstanding the frustrations of hope which you may have experienced, and which is not only quite consistent with a continued and unwavering expectation of the gifts that you implore, but imparts such a tone of holy resignation to the petitions in which you supplicate them, as to give additional grace and piety to the sacrifice which you thus lay on the altar of your God. 4. And, finally, you must not forget that the God to whom you pray is a holy God. It is true he allows us to approach Him as sinners ; and, as sinners, to ask from him with the hope of receiving all the blessings of salvation. But then, in this act of condescension, he does not, and he cannot re nounce that purity and rectitude of character which belong to him as the infinitely perfect Jehovah. We have access to him by the blood of Christ : but by the shedding of that blood in sacrifice, he has set before us a most emphatic demonstra tion ofthe divine holiness, which the sacrifice of Christ was appointed to maintain and vindicate. And though, in virtue of Christ's meritorious sufferings, God is now " reconciling the world to himself," and free to bestow salvatipn upon our fallen race, yet he has not ceased to be as much distinguished by holiness in his own character, and as peremptory in his exaction of it in the character of his creatures, as he was be fore the existence of any atonement, or of any satisfaction. Most true is the representation here given of him by the Psalmist; and most necessary is it that we bear it in mind, and be influenced by it, in all our devotional exercises. " He has no pleasure in wickedness. Neither shall evil dwell with him ; the foolish shall not stand in his sight ; and he hateth the workers of iniquity. He shall destroy them that speak leasing or falsehood ; he will abhor the bloody and deceitful man." Now, this statement, of which we need not at present give any particular illustration, its general meaning being quite obvious, and quite sufficient for our purpose, is not set before us to deter us from praying to God. It would have that effect, indeed, were we to confine our views to the immacu late holiness of God on the one hand, and to our moral de pravity and guilt on the other. But we know that God is merciful as well as just; that while his mercy is displayed, his justice is satisfied; and that according to the wonderful plan of redemption, even the chief of sinners may return to him through the appointed mediator, and for the sake of that mediator, be pardoned, and accepted, and saved. Still, how ever, if we thus believe in Jesus Christ, and thus return by him to God, our very faith, and our very return, necessarily direct our views to him as a God, " glorious in holiness," and requiring holiness in all that draw nigh to him, and are admitted to the enjoyment of his favour. And, accordingly, it is one provision of the gospel, that we be sanctified for his service, while it is one prescribed qualification for engaging in that service, that we have " clean hands and pure hearts." When we pray to him, we must pray in the spirit of peni tence. We must be animated by a hatred of sin ; for, " if we regard iniquity in our hearts, the Lord will not hear us." We must have a sincere, and decided, and paramount affection for holiness ; for without this, we could not fix our minds with comfort, or with hope, on him whom we pretended to wor ship. If conscious that we were " enemies to God in our minds, and by wicked works," and that we were persevering in our enmity, notwithstanding all that he had done to subdue it, we could not possibly cherish towards him one devotional sentiment, or utter one sincere supplication. It becomes us, therefore — it is requisite for us — to be holy, that we may pray to God as we ought. And, for the purpose of impressing us with the importance of having that qualification, and with the necessity of having it in active operation when we ad dress God in prayer, let us always contemplate God as he is here delineated by the Psalmist. And while a sense of our guiltiness before such a holy Being, determines us to seek for acceptance through the sacrifice of Christ, let the purity of him to whom we pray determine us to be earnest in seeking for the renewing and purifying influence ofthe Divine Spirit, in banishing from our hearts every sinful affection and every unworthy thought, and in cultivating all those graces and virtues which shall qualify us for holding communion with the " father of our spirits" upon earth, and for enjoying his beatific presence in the kingdom of heaven. But while the holi-iess of God is a commanding reason for our praying to him in the spirit of penitence, we may also take encouragement from it to apply to him when men are assailing and persecuting us. This was the particular view of it taken by the Psalmist in the passage we are consider ing. He knew that the conduct of his enemies could not fail to be most offensive to that Being who ruled the world in righteousness, and who saw in their hostility to his servants, a practical contempt of his law, and a daring opposition to his authority. And, therefore, he concluded that, however unworthy he was in himself of the divine favour, and how ever necessary it was to pray in the name of a mediator, the veiy perfection of God's moral excellence, would justify him LECTURES ON PORTIONS OF THE PSALMS. 121 for asking his interposition, and for asking it with the as sured hope that.it would be granted. In like manner, when we suffer from the malice and injustice of our foes, and apply to God for deliverance or for help, it is a warrant for us to do so that he is infinitely holy and just. Were he " altogether such a one as ourselves," were his nature tinctured with sin, or were he indifferent to its prevalence among his creatures, we could not expect that he would " give an attentive ear" when we besought him to guard us against the machinations and the malignity of those who, by the commission of it in some of its most obnoxious forms, aimed at our destruction. But, convinced that he is " the Holy One of Israel," that every species of iniquity is hateful in his sight, that the work ers of it are the objects of his displeasure, and that one great purpose of his administration must be to check and to punish them, we feel ourselves constrained to make use of that as an argument for "calling upon him," when we are treated by our fellow-men with cruelty or injustice. It is appealing to the honour of his character and of his government, and to the pledge which he has given, in all that he has revealed of him self in the law and in the gospel, in the ways of providence, and in the word of truth, to prevent the triumph of ungodli ness, when we invoke him as a God of righteousness, to.eome betv/een the oppressor and the oppressed, and to save us from pur false, deceitful, and blood thirsty foes. We must never forget that this attribute of God should make us approach at all times with much self-abasement, and with reliance on his mercy through the blood of atonement ; hut neither should we forget that, in particular circumstances, it furnishes the most animating motive that we can have for fervent sup plications ; and that, when situated as the Psalmist was, we may freely adopt the language which he employed, when he said, " I will direct my. prayer unto thee, and will look up ; For thou art not a God that hath pleasure in wickedness; neither shall evil dwell with thee." The Psalmist did not satisfy himself with private prayer ; lie also resolved to engage in the exercises of public worship. The same feeling of piety which constrained him to do the one, constrained him also to do the other. And then, he did not think himself at liberty to go to the house of God, without a due consideration of the service with which he was to be there occupied, and of the dispositions and views which it required from him, as both becoming and necessary. " As for me," says he, " I will come into thy house in the multitude of thy mercy; and in thy fear will I worship toward thy holy temple." The resolution.of the Psalmist should be ours. We may fee tempted by our natural disinclination to spiritual employ ment, and by the allurements of a degenerate world, and by the example and counsel of ungodly men, to " forsake the as sembling of ourselves together." But, ":as for us," if we are actuated by the principles and the spirit of true religion, we will resist all these temptations, and account it our honour, our privilege, and our duty, to " wait on the Lord" in the ser vices of his sanctuary. This we will do, regularly and punc tually, in the ordinary circumstances of life. But we will especially have recourse to God in his house of prayer, when we are distressed by the hostility and persecution of our foes, in order that we may derive consolation from the communion which we there hold with our heavenly father, and be in structed by what is there delivered to us, in all that can re concile us to our troubles, and guide us in our difficulties, arid support us under our trials. A"d, far from rushing into his holy place, as too many do, without any serious thought con cerning him to whom we are about to pay our homage, and the manner in which he must be approached, if "we would ap proach him with acceptance, — we will study to have our minds impressed with just -conceptions of his character, to bring with us those offerings which the occasion requires, and to present them with suitable affections, and in a suita ble manner. Instead of merely going to his tabernacles, we will go to them with the conscious purpose of worshipping him, — of offering to him our prayers and our praises, and of listening to his word. And instead of merely going to wor ship him, we will go to worship him in that way which is suggested by the nature and circumstances of the duty, or dictated by his own express injunctions. Contemplating the immaculate purity by which. he is distinguished, and aware of our own unworthiness and guilt, it will be with the deep est humility that we enter his courts ; it will be with de pendence oh his unmerited mercy ; and it will he with believing reference to that scheme of reconciliation by which his mercy has been manifested to sinful men. And though drawing near to him in faith, and beholding and trusting in Vol. II.— Q him as a God of mercy, we will feel i ourselves encouraged to hope for a favourable reception, yet still thinking of his un spotted holiness, and of our own great depravity, it will be with godly fear that we lift up our eyes to " the place where his honour dwelleth," whether we give him the tribute of our thanksgiving, or ask from him the blessings that we need. Thus going into the house of God " in the multitude of his mercy" and worshipping towards his holy temple " in his fear" we may cherish the expectation that he will graciously receive us ; that he will " cause his face to shine upon us ;" that he will listen to the voice of supplication which we lift up to him from amidst "the assembly of the upright;" that he will help us in the performance of our sacred duties ; that he will bless them for our comfort and advantage ; and that he will make the services of his temple below, a preparation for the purer and more exalted services of his temple above. LECTURE II. " Lead me, 0 Lord, in thy righteousness because of mine ene- ' mies: make thy way straight before my face. For there is no faithfulness in their mouth ; their inward part is very wicked ness ; their throat is an open sepulchre ; they flatter with their tongue. Destroy thou them, 0 God .- let them fall by their own counsels cast them out in the multitude of their transgress ions * for they have rebelled against thee. But let all those that put their trust in thee rejoice .- let them ever shout for joy, because thou defendest them : let them also that hme thy name be joyful in thee. For thou, Lord, wilt bless the righteous ; with favour wilt thou compass him as with a shield." — Psalm v. 8. — END. David had addressed himself to God as the hearer of prayer, ' and he did so, when he was in distress by reason of the op position and hostility of ungodly men. He took encourage ment in praying for help and deliverance, from the considera tion that God was a holy being, who had " no pleasurein wickedness," and who would take part with hjs servants when they were persecuted by the workers of iniquity. And he expressed his determination, amidst all his trials and trou bles, to adhere closely to the worship of his Maker, to ap proach him in a dependence upon his mercy, and to " serve him with reverence and godly fear." He proceeds thus : "Lead me, O Lord, in thy righteous-. ness, because of mine enemies : make thy way straight before my face." David's enemies were numerous, malicious, and inveterate. They watched to spy out his faults ; they waited for his halting : they were anxious to discover him acting in consistently with his professions : they longed for some vio lation of that law by which he pretended to be guided, for some departure from that character by which he laboured to be distinguished — that they might accuse him before the world, that they might disgrace him in the eye ofthe church, that they might overwhelm him in* infamy and ruin. Now, in this situation of peril, he applied to God. He was sensible that of himself he was not proof against their enmity ; that if left to his own wisdom and strength and resolution, their as saults would be successful and their object accomplished; that nothing could preserve him but the interposition of divine aid. And, therefore, he trusted in it, and he prayed for it. He prayed that the Almighty would prevent him from com mitting any sin which would have given his foes an advantage over him, or an Occasion against him ; that he might be ena bled at all times, and in all circumstances, to present to them the commanding aspect of a blameless and holy life ; that the way of-duty might be made so plain to him, that he could not miss it ; that its ruggedness and its difficulties might be so smoothed down, that he could walk in it easily and surely; that those who looked on him with the most suspicious and malignant eye, might be unable to detecLany fault in his con duct; that their captiousness might be ungratified, their cla mours put to silence, and their expectations disappointed. Now, my friends, we are in one sense, situated like the Psalmist, and we must act like him. We have all of us ene mies to encounter, whose aim is deadly, whose vigilance is ceaseless, whose attacks are unremitting, whose numbers, and power, and devices are formidable. And what have we where with to resist them ? Nothing that is adequate to the arduous task. Unskilful, ignorant, and weak; apt to slumber at our post ; easily tempted; or easily frightened into dangeious con cessions ; unwilling to undergo the toils, or to submit to the 122 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. sacrifices which our warfare demands, — we have scarcely be gun the contest, when we lose the victory, and fall a prey to those who have nothing else at heart than our everlasting de struction. But though such is our condition, is it quite helpless and irremediable ? No, brethren : the God whom we serve is for us, and he is mightier by far than all that can be against us. He has promised guidance, and protection, and assistance ; he has promised to give courage to our hearts, and wisdom to our counsels, and vigour to our arm ; he has promised to be himself our leader and commander, to sup port us through the perils of the combat, and to conduct us to conquest and to triumphr What then sliould we do, but con fide in these promises, and pray for their fulfilment ? Let it be our fixed purpose to oppose a firm and unyielding front to our adversaries. Let us be resolved, that in spite of all their efforts, we will "hold fast our righteousness, and never let it go ;" that nothing they can say or do shall prevail upon us to surrender one iota of our principles or our purity ; that we will wage interminable war with them, rather than suffer them in a single point to acquire the mastery over us. And let all the means which we possess of repelling their assaults, of coun teracting their stratagems, and of defeating their attempts, be employed with every degree of care and energy. But still, with all this, let us never forget that there is no hope for us, if we rely'on our own independent resources ; that we must be " strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might ;" and that his all-sufficient help must be obtained by prayer and sup plication. Let us, therefore, beseech him " to lead us in his righteousness, because of our enemies, and to make his way straight before our face." Let us not only ask him to be thus mindful of us, and thus assisting to us, in the extreme or more trying exigencies of our lot ; but let us habitually apply to him for the wisdom that is necessary to direct, and the strength that is necessary to resist, and let us be specially careful to implore grace to prevent us from doing any thing, which, though apparently or comparatively insignificant, may yet pave the way for a succession of evil works, which would gradually undermine the foundations of our Christian charac ter, and finally involve us in the moral desolation which our enemies are seeking to accomplish. And let us thus labour, and thus pray, not merely because it is requisite for working out our own personal salvation, by keeping us stedfast in the path of God's righteousness, but also because it contributes to the honour, and the influence, and the prosperity of that great cause which we have espoused, as believers in the Gos pel, by depriving our foes of that handle with which our mis conduct would furnish them for " blaspheming the holy name by which we are called," and by exhibiting to them the vir tuous and irreproachable deportment which is formed, and nurtured, and matured by the religion of Jesus Christ. The Psalmist next gives an account of his enemies, and petitions for their destruction. " For there is no faithfulness in their mouth ; their inward part is very wickedness : their throat is an open sepulchre, they flatter with their tongue. Destroy thou them, O God ; let them fall by their own coun sels : cast them out in the multitude of their transgressions, for they have rebelled agamst thee." They had no regard to truth, and scrupled not to invent and propagate deliberate falsehoods, if they could thereby injure the interest, the repu tation, or the comfort of the King of Israel. And this they did under the influence and by the impulse of inherent de pravity, of an inborn enmity against God and the people of God, which neither kindness nor virtue could subdue, and which startled at no lie and at no malignity, by which its feel ings might be gratified and its purposes gained. Nay, they carried this odious and reckless passion so far, that they thirsted for David's blood ; they were ready to devour him ; and insatiable as the grave, which never says "itis enough," they longed to swallow up not him only, but all who were embarked in the same holy cause, and distinguished by the same devotedness to the King of Heaven. And so far did they carry their diabolical practices, that they put on the mask of friendship, and spoke in the accents of applause, that thereby they might more easily lull the suspicions, and effec tuate the ruin of all who were the objects of their hatred. Such were the Psalmist's enemies ; and he prayed for their destruction. He prayed that they might be subjected to the punishment which they had so justly merited ; he prayed that the counsels which they took, and the measures which they devised against others, might be so overruled as to turn to their own overthrow ; he prayed that in the midst, and on ac count of, their multiplied offences, they might be cast out from the land of the living, and the place of hope. These were dreadful imprecations, and could only be justified on pe culiar grounds, in explanation of which, we would offer these two short remarks. In the first place, David did not pray for the destruction of his enemies, from any feelings of personal resentment. They had, indeed-, given him every provocation that insult and persecution could furnish. But he. did not yield to it ; he took higher and more important views. His o«vn wrongs were forgotten amidst the affronts that were of fered to the majesty of heaven. It was upon this ground that he pleaded for the divine vengeance to fall upon his enemies. In aiming a blow at him, they were opposing the appoint ments of Jehovah, and they were doing so by means which implied a violation of the most important and sacred enact ments of the moral law ; and hence, he urges his suit against them with this argument, "for they have rebelled against thee." And in the second place, when interpreting this and similar passages, we must never forget that David sustained a particular character, and was the champion of a particular dispensation. He was the anointed King of Israel ; he was inspired, and invested with the prophetical office; and he was ordained to act a most important part in carrying for ward the arrangements of God, not merely for the imme diate safety and prosperity of the Jewish state, but also and chiefly for the coming of the Messiah, and the ultimate salvation of the world. When praying, therefore, for the destruction of his enemies, he was not an unguided, unau thorised individual, praying for ruin to the common enemies of his person, or of his country. But he was an individual, specially gifted and called of God, and " moved-in what he spoke by the Holy Ghost," praying for the destruction of those who " set themselves" obstinately and malevolently " against the Lord and his anointed," who were levelling the shafts of their malice against the cause both of God and man, and doing what they could to frustrate the counsels of heaven concerning the advent of the Saviour, and the redemption of the human race. But while these extraordinary circumstances fully justified the Psalmist in imprecating destruction upon his enemies, there is nothing in our situation by which we can be justified in following his example. Evil men may calumniate us, and do us all manner of injury ; and in afflicting us they may they must, be offending God ; but we have no more warrant to pray for divine wrath to consume them, than we have war rant to cherish personal revenge against them. We are under the law of Christian charity; and that law forbids undue re sentment ; it requires us to " love our enemies; and to pray for them." We must be regulated by the example of Jesus ; and from the cross of his agony, he lifted up the voice of in- treaty in behalf of his murderers, and said, " Father forgive them, for they know not what they do." We must be " fol lowers of God as dear children ;" and we know that he has no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but is willing that all men should come to repentance," and therefore it becomes us to pray that even those who, in the wantonness or the wick edness of their hearts, have done us most evil, may be " con verted from the error of their ways," and made partakers of that grace in which we ourselves rejoice, and which teaches us to remember the very worst of them in our supplications at the throne of mercy. When we come, however, to consider our spiritual ene mies, the case is altered, and in so far as we exclude from our regard whatever is at once afi object of pity and capable of change, it is not only allowable but dutiful in us to pray for their destruction. With that limitation,' it is impossible for us to be on any terms with them, and not endanger our well-being. And as we should use every method in our power, for breaking down their dominion and annihilating their very existence, seeing that their hostility is equally di rected against us, and against God, and against all that is good and holy, we must not omit the instrument of prayer, which, when employed in sincerity, and in faith, and with perseverance, is not less availing than it is necessary. It is right for us to pray that the kingdom of Satan may be over turned, that he may be seen as " lightning falling from hea ven," that he may be banished from the hearts and the habita tions of all men, and driven away, baffled and defeated, "into his own place." It is right for us to pray that the spirit which " worketh iu us as the children of disobedience," may be crushed and subdued — that " the old man with his corrupt deeds and deceitful lusts" may fall down and die — that every vestige of that authority which sin has established in our fallen nature, may perish and become as if it had never been. It is right for us to pray, that the world may be divested of its charms to seduce, and of its terrors to frighten us from the paths of virtue ; that it may fall prostrate and without LECTURES ON PORTIONS OF THE PSALMS. 123 strength at the feet of a triumphant faith ; that it may be hurled from its proud pre-eminence among men ; and that on its mins may be erected the bright and purifying hope of that " new heaven and that new earth, in which dwelleth righte ousness." And if among our fellow-men, there aTe those who by their counsel, their example, or their ridicule, are trying to wound our conscience, to shake our confidence, and ruin our souls, and thus proving themselves to be the worst enemies with whom we have to struggle, — it is right also to pray with respect to them, that the character in which they appear as foes to the followers'of Jesus Christ may be utter ly extinguished ; that the very devices which they have con trived and are executing against us, may be made the instru ments of their discomfiture ; that, whether by mercy or by judgment, the Lord may be pleased to break their stubborn wills, and bring them into subjection to himself and into cap tivity to Christ ; and that the enmity of their minds being thus conquered, and all the strong holds of unbelief taken from them, and their souls spoiled of every carnal affection and every hostile feeling, they may be so effectually converted as to become " lovers of God," the friends of his people, and the supporters of his cause throughout the world. It is right for us to pray in this manner and to this extent for the de struction of our spiritual enemies : and if we thus " pray with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit," He to whom hur petitions are addressed will answer us in mercy, taking to him his great power, and thereby accomplishing our deliver ance, securing us equally against the wiles and the violence of our foes, and giving us that victory over them all, which shall terminate in " glory, honour, and immortality." Having described the enemies of God and prayed against them, the Psalmist next describes the people of God, and prays for them. " But let all those that put their trust in thee rejoice; let them ever shout for joy; beeause thou de- fendest them • let them also that love thy name be joyful in thee. For thou, Lord, wilt bless the righteous, with favour wilt thou compass him as with a shield. God's people are described as putting their trust in him. Their confidence is withdrawn from the creature, and reposed in the Creator. They contemplate his perfections ; and in them, they behold every thing which can render God worthy of their affiance as a guide, a protector, and a friend. They read his promises ; and these, while they come from him who is faithful and almighty, apply so kindly and minutely to all their circumstances, as to invite and secure their un suspecting reliance upon him for all that they need. And the experience they have had of his gracious and providential treatment- of them during what is past, teaches them to look up to him, with an unwavering conviction, that he will not forsake them during all that yet remains of their earthly pil grimage. They " trust in him at all times :" they trust in him with their whole heart : they trust in him for present safety : they trust in him for support at death : they trust in him for the happiness of eternity. God's people aTe also described as loving his name. He is the object- of their devout and grateful attachment. Their understandings have been enlightened to see, and their hearts have been purified to relish, the transcendent excellence which resides in his character. And the forbearance, the mercy, and the kindness which he has shown them, and which run through all their temporal, and all their spiritual lot, have drawn their hearts to him in delighted admiration and everlasting gratitude. So that they think of him with complacency. They take pleasure in every thing by which he condescends to make himself known. They are glad dened by every token of his bounty which they themselves receive, and by every demonstration of grace and power which he gives in the world around them. And they long for the period, when from that clearer view of his character, and from that more enlarged experience of his mercy, and from that more sainted capacity of appreciating " the beau ties of holiness," which they shall attain in heaven, they shall be enabled to love him with boundless, uninterrupted, and never-ending affection. God's people are also described as righteous. To confi dence in his attributes and administration, and sentiments of devoted attachment to. him as their heavenly Father, their almighty friend, their eternal portion, they add the substan tial and practical attainment of conformity to his will. They do not rest satisfied with honouring him by the mere feelings of dependence and affection : they honour him also by the obedience which he requires, and which it is at once their privilege and their duty to render to his holy law. They are righteous in their principles : they are righteous in their tempers: they are righteous in their conduct. Righteous ness is their grand distinction. It adorns them wherever they are, and points them out as children of the most High, and as heirs of immortality ; and following after it with un remitting zeal, and willingly subjecting themselves to " the sanctification of the Spirit," their " path is like the shining light which shineth more and more until the perfect day." Such are God's people according to the description given of them by the Psalmist. And, juding of yourselves by this test, are you, my friends, among the number of God's peo ple I If you are not, I need not tell you how much you are lost to all that is greatest and happiest and best. There is but one other alternative ; and if you have chosen it ; if you are indeed the enemies of God ; if, instead of " trusting in him," you are trusting in " refuges of lies ;" if, instead of " loving his name," you are hating, and blaspheming, and turning away from it; if, instead of being "righteous," you are living in sin, eager in its pursuits,'and contented with its pleasures ; then, what can you expect, or what can we hold out to you, but the destruction for which David prayed, and which the Almighty has threatened, and with which he will assuredly visit all those who will not " repent and be con verted" that they may be saved ? O be persuaded to forsake your evil ways, and to return to the Lord. Abandon the ranks of his foes. " C ome out from among them, and be ye separate." And join yourselves to them who love God and keep his commandments. He will "receive you graciously." He will pardon you freely for the sake of his dear Son. He will treat you with every mark of affection that may be hoped for from a tender parent — from a reconciled God. He will put it into the hearts of his saints to pray for you, as David pray ed for the righteous. He will teach them the supplications they are to prefer in your behalf. And, among all the vari ous blessings that, under his guidance, will be the subject of their petitions, this will be none of the least fervent nor least effectual, that you may be " comforted concerning all that has befallen you ;" that you may be enabled to rejoice in God, to whose friendship you have been restored, ana "under the shadow of whose wings" you have taken refuge from the guilt and the calamities of an unholy life ; that you may even "shout for joy" — the joy of perfect security from all that once harassed your mind and robbed it of its peace — the joy of complete triumph over the foes under whose cruel power you were fast " filling up the measure of your iniquities," and fast sinking into the " perdition of ungodly men," — the joy of unwavering faith in the merit and intercession of him who redeemed you, and opened up the way of return to your offended Maker — tbe joy of assured hope that the time is not far distant when you shall be rescued from every remaining evil, be admitted into the celestial presence of your redeem ing God, and there rejoice for ever with " a joy that is un speakable and full of glory." And most unquestionably this prayer will be heard and answered. God is already pledged by his character and by his promises to grant what is thus implored. " For he will bless the righteous ; and with fa vour will he compass him as with a shield." You need his blessing, and you shall have it ; and you shall find that it is "a blessing which maketh rich, and addeth no sorrow." You need bis favour, and you shall have it ; and you shall find that his "favour is life, and his loving kindness better than life." You need his defence, and you shall have it ; and you shall find that they whom the Lord defends have a sliield which compasses them about on every side, and keeps them in perfect safety. . And, amidst all your difficulties and all your dangers, this will be your song, till you reach the tem ple out ot wbich you shall no more go out, and the kingdom that shall never be moved ; " The Lord is my light, and my salvation, whom shall I fear ? The Lord is the strength of my life ; of whom shall I be afraid ? When the wicked, even mine enemies and my foes come upon me to eat up my flesh, they stumbled and fell. Though an host should en camp against me, my heart shall not fear : though war should rise against me, in this will I be confident. One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after : that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life to behold the beauty of the Lord, and inquire in his temple. For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion : in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me : he shall set me up upon a rock. And now shall mine head be lifted up above mine enemies round about me : therefore will I offer in his taber nacle sacrifices of joy. unto the Lord." I will sing — yea, I will sing praises 124 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. LECTURE III. " Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle ? who shall dwell in thy holy hill? He that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his heart. He that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth evil to his neigh bour, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour. In whose eyes a vile person is condemned; but he honoureth them that fear the Lord .- he tliat sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not. He that putteth not out his money to usury, nor taketh reward against the innocent. He that doeth these things shall never be moved." — Psalm xv. Part L Nothing can be more important than the inquiry with which this Psalm commences. It refers not to a subject of idle or useless curiosffty ; nor to a subject involving some merely temporary interest; nor to a subject about which we may be indifferent, and at the same time neither compromise our wisdom, nor endanger our safety. It refers to a subject which comprehends at once our prospects of eternal felicity, and the practical concern that we must necessarily feel, and the practical efforts that we must necessarily make, in order that these prospects may be certainly realized. And, there fore, it is infinitely more deserving of our regard than the most momentous of all the various inquiries that were ever engaged in by men of science, or by men of the world, whose views were confined to the circumstances and the comforts of a present state. And yet how little of the patient attention of most men, and how little of their serious meditation, does it occupy ! To every thing else, whether grave or trifling, they are more than sufficiently alive. They are eager in asking, and they spare no trouble in ascertaining,-by what means their " knowledge, which puffeth up," maybe enlarged, or their worldly advan tages secured, or their personal gratifications promoted, or their animal life prolonged, or their passing amusements va ried, and multiplied, and heightened. Listen to their con versation, and you will heir how much they are in earnest about these objects of pursuit. Look to their conduct, and you will| see what sacrifices they are ready to make, in. order to attain what they thus so vehemently desire. Examine their whole system of life, and you will find them giving their days and their nights, their warmest affections and their most vig orous efforts, to the engagements and the pleasures of a pre sent world ; seeking after these with insatiable curiosity, and unwearied activity ; and as intent upon them as if they com prised all that is alluring to human ambition, and all that is requisite to human happiness. As they do not deny that they have immortal souls, and that there is a coming retribution from which they cannot escape, one might expect that the thought of this would exact from them some consideration, even in their busiest hours, and that now and then they would devote to it their solemn and exclusive regard. But no : they speak and act as if they had no real or thorough belief that there is a hereafter, or as if they judged themselves to have no individual concern in it. " What shall we eat ? What shall we drink ? Wherewithal shall we be clothed ?" How shall we get honour ? How shall we acquire wealth ? How shall our time pass most pleasantly away ? How must we be qualified for this scene of business ? And how shall we be arrayed for that scene of gaiety ? — These are the questions, and the only questions which they are at pains either to put or to answer ; and their spiritual and everlasting condition is as much unheeded, as if they had no eternity before them, and had no account to render. The folly of all this is so obvious, that we could scarcely believe it possible, were not the fact presented every day and every hour to our observation. O if there be any now hear ing me to whom the description applies, let'me beseech you, were it but for one moment, to reflect on the infatuation which besets you. SuppQse that within that range to which you limit your concern, you possessed and enjoyed every thing that your hearts desired ; that you had no want unsupplied, and no wish unfulfilled ; that every species of evil were a stranger to your lot, and every species of good familiaT to your feelings and your experience ; that, in short, the whole "world, and the fulness thereof were yours at will ; — what in truth have you obtained ? Why, it is not too strong language to say, that you have obtained nothing. You and the world, closely as you are now linked with it, and cordially as you are now attached to it, and little as you now think of leaving it, — you and the world must part. You must die, and go into another world — a world in which a righteous judgment shall pass upon you, and in which you shall have an endless, un changeable existence either of happiness or woe. Are you prepared for 'that world? Have you provided for the dread alternative which there awaits you ? And have you any good ground to hope-that you shall "escape the wrath to come," and be admitted into heaven ? The case supposes that you have no such prospect, and no such meetness ; and on that supposition, what are all the honours, and all the treasures, and all the joys of "the life that now is?" We repeat it, and you cannot in your conscience gainsay it, that they are nothing, — lost and forgotten amidst the realities of that eter nal state of being, in which they caimot secure for you one gleam of comfort, or one ray of hope. Nay, they are worse than nothing; for though they pleased, and even enraptured you during the short and fleeting hours of your mortal career, they were all the while concealing from you the glories of immortality, chaining down your ambition to the pursuits of sense and sin, and deluding you to your everlasting ruin. What infatuation, then, to be taking no heed to your future well-being, and lavishing all your care and all your anxiety on " the things that are seen and temporal !" Take the converse of the supposition we have made, and observe how it brings you to the same conclusion. Suppose that you had the most moderate portion of worldly prosperity and indulgence that ever fell to the share of the unfortunate ; suppose that all the possessions of which you are taking such a fast hold, and all the gratifications to which you are so much devoted, were to vanish from your grasp for ever ; sup pose that your cup of terrestrial bliss were dashed to the ground, "and there were put into your hand, and pressed to your lips, a cup overflowing, with the bitter waters of sorrow and adversity, which you were compelled to drink to its very dregs ; — what of all this, if you were " rich towards God ;" if you were travelling to the " kingdom that cannot be moved;" if you were heirs of the " inheritance which is incorruptible and undefiled, and that fadeth not away ?" Your sorrows in the one case would as quickly pass away, as must your joys in the other case; and as the departure of your joys in the other case was but the prelude of ceaseless and unmingled misery, so the termination of your sorrows in this case would be succeeded by a felicity, perfect in its nature, boundless in its extent, and endless in its duration. Only lay up for your selves an interest in the substantial and undecaying blessed ness of the celestial paradise ; and all that this transitory scene can visit you with, either of pleasure or of pain, will be " as the small dust of the balance, without weight and with out regard." And the very privations and affliotions, by which, as worldlings, you would be bowed down to the dust, and amidst the severest of which you could have no support and no consolation, would not only be borne by you, as Chris tians, with patience and resignation, but would serve by ele vating your hearts, and purifying your characters, to give you a larger capacity, and a diviner relish, for "the glory that is to be hereafter revealed." 0 how foolish, then, to be eager in every inquiry, and intent upon every employment that has a reference, however remote, to your connection with the things of time ; and never once, or seriously, or fervently, to " lift up your seuls" to him " who inhabiteth eternity," and say in the language ofthe Psalmist, " Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle ? Who shall dwell in thy holy hill ?" But there are some who often think of heaven, and often speak of heaven, and often direct their face towards heaven, and who notwithstanding do not attend to the meaning of the Psalmist's question, or do not properly apply it, or do not sufficiently act upon it. They seem to be quite convinced that there is such a place as heaven, and that every wise mau will be desirous to reach it : and they seem not only to par take of that desire, but to be satisfied that, with respect to them, it will be ultimately and certainly realised. And all this, although they do not spend one serious thought on the qualifications which heaven requires of every one who would inhabit its holy and happy mansions. They have inquired about the reality of these mansions, and have no doubt of be ing at last admitted into them : but they never put the ques tion, " Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle, who shall dwell in thy holy hill ?"— Or they put this question, and they get it answered, and they entertain correct and scriptural no tions concerning it, and are just as orthodox on the subject as you could desire them to be. But then their knowledge of it is altogether speculative, or if practically used, is made to re fer to every human being but themselves. They look around them, and they decide with great readiness on the future fate of others— determining who shall finally be introduced into LECTURES ON PORTIONS OF THE PSALMS. 125 heaven, and who shall finally be excluded from it : and if they refrain from passing such specific sentences on their fel low creatures, they also refrain most carefully from consider ing how far they, for their own part, can look forward with hope and confidence, as those in whom there is a personal meetness for the kingdom of God, by their possessing those qualities to which the promise of that kingdom is annexed, and satisfy their minds with having an accurate acquaintance with the doctrine, and an unwavering belief in the doctrine, that they who go to heaven must be distinguished by that character which is delineated and prescribed in the sacred scriptures. Or if they do make this self-application of the great and important truth that admission into heaven is a privilege necessarily, authoritatively, and exclusively bestow ed upon a particular class or description of men ; if they are persuaded that it is'indispensably requisite for them to belong to this class, if they would enjoy that privilege; and if, un der the influence of this persuasion, they set themselves to the work of preparation, and seek to be adorned with that ex cellence which shall constitute their fitness for eternal life, — still they allow their proud reason, their corrupt passions their worldly interests, so to interfere with what divine au thority requires them to do and to be, that there are some duties which they will not perform, some vices which they will not abandon, some sacrifices which they will not make, though hell be the penalty, and heaven the reward. Now these are all wrong ; and their errors must prove fa tal. Nobody surely can get to heaven merely by believing that there is such a state, and desiring to be there, however firm the belief, and however intense the desire may be. There must be at least superadded to this, some knowledge of that character which those must possess who shall be admitted into it ; some concern felt upon that subject ; some endeav ours made to acquire distinct apprehensions of it ; and some measure of success in obtaining the requisite instruction. Nor is this by any means sufficient. To our belief in heaven and our ambition to enter it, we may add the most minute in quiries into the character which fits for the enjoyment of it, and the most correct acquaintance with all the qualities of which that character is composed, — still that can do us no good so long as we make use of it for no other purpose than that of judging of the future condition of other men, and think not of its just and individual application to ourselves. And though we should apply it to ourselves, and be satisfied not only that a particular and specified preparation is indispensi- ble, but that we must have that preparation, still, if in mak ing it, we leave out what the word or God declares to be es sential to its completeness and its acceptance, and do nothing- more than aim at those attainments which suit our own de praved or fanciful views, there is no ground on Which we can consistently lay claim to heaven, or rationally expect to be its inhabitants at last. " Eternal life is altogether the gift of God;" he has intimated that it is the portion of none but those who -are qualified for its exercises and its pleasures ; he has fixed what these qualifications are, and has plainly re vealed, and authoritatively prescribed -them ; and it is beyond all controversy that we must inquire about them, that we must become acquainted with them, that we must labour to be invested with them, that we must actually have them, in order that we may be among the number of those " who shall abide in the tabernacle of the Lord, and dwell in his holy hill,"— of those who shall be the real members of his church upon earth, and shall finally ascend to the place' of sublime and everlasting recompense. PART II. Having said this much on -the question here put by the Psalmist, let us now attend to the answer that he gives. " He that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness, and speak eth the truth in his heart. He that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth evil to his neighbour, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour. In whose eyes a vile person is contemn ed; but he honoureth them that fear the Lord; he that swear- eth to his own hurt, and changeth not ; he that putteth not out his money to usury, nor taketh reward against the innocent. We are evidently not to regard this as a complete enumer ation ofthe virtues which constitute a meetness for heaven. A complete enumeration can only be made by travelling through the whole sacred volume, and collecting all the prin ciples that are laid down in its pages, and all the precepts that there are enjoined for the regulation of human conduct. It is not from detached passages of revelation that we learn particularly and fully what the Christian character is, but from its various truths, and maxims, and commandments gathered together, and combined into one practical system. " All scripture is given by inspiration, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction and instruction in righteous ness, that the man of God may be perfect, throughly furnish ed unto all good works." That we may be "perfect, and throughly furnished unto all good works," we must study the whole of the inspired record, and make ourselves minutely acquainted with its contents. But the Divine Spirit has seen proper, in describing those who shall " enter into life," to mention sometimes one part of their character, and sometimes another, to the apparent exclusion ofthe rest. Thus, in the twenty-fourth psalm, when it is asked, " who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord ? and who shall stand in his holy place ?" this answer is subjoined, " He that hath clean hands, and a pure'heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully :" — in which words the acquirements of a successful candidate for heaven, are limited to freedom from gross outward sins, and from sensual desires — from undue at tachment to " the things of the world," and from false and fraudulent oaths. In our Saviour's account of the general judgment, the sentence of approbation which he will pronounce upon the righteous, who are to go " away into life eternal," recognizes no other Christian grace in them as authorising this glorious destination, than the exercise of charity, — of charity too, in its most ordinary form, — as directed not to the welfare ofthe soul, but to the comfort of the body, and to that comfort as promoted and cared for by the cheapest, and most common-place officers of humanity. " I was hungry, and ye gave me meat ; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink ; I was a stranger, and ye took me in ;' naked, and ye clothed me ; I was sick, and ye visited me ; I was in prison, and ye came unto me." Christ also, in his sermon on the Mount, ascribes salvation to the possession of one particular excellence, with out even glancing at its connection with any other, and with out speaking of it as forming a portion only of a great and comprehensive whole. Thus he says, " Blessed are the peace makers, for they shall be called the children of God : Bless ed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted : Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." The same great reward is annexed to the principle of faith, without any express notice of those acts of moral obedience which are yet affirmed to be'necessary for proving our faith to be a faith of saving operation ; " Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved;"— And to the sentiment of love to God, without any detail of those deeds of piety and' goodness by which it is at once evinced and perfected — thus the things are unimagined, which God " hath prepared for them that love him ;" — And even to the verbal confession of Christ in the world, without any allusion to that practical submission to his will, and humble imitation of his example, by which all his disciples must necessarily be distinguished ; as, " with the mouth confession is made unto salvation ;" and " whoso confesseth me before men, him will I also confess before my Father who is in heaven." And in the passage before us, though in it a greater number of virtues are particularised than in most other passages of scripture, where holy charac ter is stated in connection with its heavenly reward, yet it is obvious that many are altogether omitted, and that of those which are specified, there are some less valuable in compari son than others which might have been introduced into the catalogue. This, however, is quite according to the analogy of scripture ; and we shall endeavour to show, in a few par ticulars, that it is rational, consistent, and useful. 1. In the first place, as we have already hinted, it is not in tended that one part of the scripture should be understood and acted upon independently of the rest. Its great object is to tell us how we are to prepare for heaven ; and surely it is both wise and requisite, that we learn this lesson in its full mean ing and extent ; that we direct our attention to all the dispo sitions we must cherish, and to all the habits we must culti vate, in order to be ripe for glory ; that we neglect nothing, however.inconsiderable, which the wisdom or the holiness of God has demanded of us for that purpose. Even though all the virtues required of us were brought into one list, and pre sented to us at one view, with a single solitary exception, and that this single virtue were to be found in the least inter esting, and most neglected corner of the Bible, to that corner we must go for it, and bring it into its natural and appointed fellowship with the rest, and give it as firm a hold of our heart, and as fixed a place iu our deportment as any of them. And why ? For this simple reason, that it stands within the precincts of revelation ; that it is recommended, sanctioned, 126 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. and enforced by an authority, which it is not competent for us either to question or disobey ; that it constitutes one of- the features of that character, which every obligation of gratitude, and every prospect of futurity teach us to maintain ; and that if we continue destitute of it, especially when warned of its necessity, we are worse than unprepared for the regions of immortality. It is in vain to say, that as you find the promise of eternal felicity appended to the exercise of a single virtue, your exer cise of that one is perfectly sufficient, and all others are but works of supererogation. We shall immediately show you, that when you speak thus, you mistake the import of Chris tian virtue. But, in the mean time, we may observe, that so long as you admit the Bible to be the directory of your faith, and hope, and conduct, it is quite impossible for you to limit your regard to any single virtue whatever, or to any circum scribed number of virtues that you may choose to bring to gether. The authority which enjoins, the love which con strains, the hope which animates to the practice of one, enjoins, and constrains, and animates to the practice of them all. The moment that you make a selection in this respect, — how ever few, and however unimportant those may be which you ex clude, — that moment you cease to pursue heaven in tjie way that God has instituted ; and surely you cannot beiso bold as to presume that you shall be able to attain it in some other way. It is very true, the scriptures says, as you have heard, that charity shall prepare you for heaven; but does not the scripture say also, that justice, temperance, humility, and pa tience are as much connected with that destination as charity is ? If you dwell on those passages which speak with com mendation of visible and active performances of duty, I would Temind you of the passage which affirms, that " the pure in heart are blessed, for they shall see God." You may quote to me the declarations which bear, that they who " keep the commandments," and " abound in good works," shall " en ter into life;" but I must also quote the declarations which affirm, that " without faith it is impossible to please God," — that " by grace are ye saved through faith," — and that " whosoever believeth in Christ, shall not perish, but have everlasting life." And to those who take the opposite view, and refer to the statements in scripture, which trace our title to the unfading inheritance to a simple belief in the Saviour, I must proclaim the language, and the doctrine of this Psalm, which most distinctly represent that inheritance as reserved for those who " walk uprightly, and work righteousness, and speak the truth in their heart ; who backbite not with their tongue, nor do evil to their neighbour, nor take up a reproach against their neighbour ; in whose eyes a vile person is con temned, but who honour them that fear the Lord ; who swear to their own hurt, and change not ; who put not out their mo ney to usury, ner take reward against the innocent." Thus, though the happiness of heaven is connected with the posses sion of a particular grace, yet being connected with the pos session of every other particular grace, they must all be con sidered as equally essential, and none of them can possibly be excluded from the character of meetness, or the work of preparation, for that happiness, without opposing the autho rity of God, and breaking in upon the harmony of the Chris tian scheme. 2. But in the second place, independently of the explana tion now given, the propriety of annexing the promise of heaven, to- a certain portion ofthe Christian character, may be illustrated by considering what that portion of it truly and necessarily implies. It is nominally, but not really insulated. It stands by itself in the enunciation ; but it does not stand by itself, when traced to its origin1, and to its genuine effects. It has a natural or an instituted relation to every other reli gious and moral excellence in the Christian life ; and what ever portion it he, if it belongs to pure, personal, practical Christianity, the individual to whom it adheres, possesses every other portion which can be required to constitute the sum total of Christian deportment. Take the principle of faith for example. If your faith be genuine, it is the consequence of " the washing of regenera tion, and renewing of the Holy Ghost." But the change which that produces, affects the whole man, and leaves no part of him under the reigning power of sin, but brings along with it a universal conformity to the law of God. So that possessing genuine faith, you of course possess every other good principle by which the heart ought to be pervaded. And then looking to the effects of this faith, it " purifies the heart," and as necessarily gives birth, and nourishment, and perma nency to practical holiness in him whom it actuates, as "a good tree bringeth forth good fruit." So that when heaven is promised to you who believe, it is promised to you as having been " born again," and as being " holy in all manner of con versation," as well as relying on the atonement and righte ousness of Christ, the former constituting your meetness for heaven, as the latter realises your title to it. Again take the example of love to God. This affection is " shed abroad in youT hearts by the power of the Holy Ghost given unto you." But surely it cannot be that the Holy Ghost should kindle up this affection in your souls, and not kindle up every other affection which might render them a tem ple fit for his inhabitation. And then, loving God, it follows by necessary consequence, that you " keep his commandments," that you submit to his will, that you seek to promote his glory. So that the hope of seeing him, and enj oying his presence in hea ven, though warranted and cherished by conscious love to him, is connected with that love as implanted by the regene rating and sanctifying influences of the Spirit, and as con straining you in whom it dwells, to lead a life of universal and cheerful devotedness to the work of moral obedience, and of unfeigned piety. Take now an example or two from outward conduct. It is common to speak with confidence of a man's future fate, if he was a man of strict and sterling honesty. And we have no objections to join in expressing that confidence, provided you give to honesty its real and scriptural import. A man of strict and sterling honesty does not merely signify a man who does not steal, and does not break his bargains, and does not violate his promises. He does not receive, and he does not deserve the title, if he refrains from these things for no other reasonrihan that he is afraid of detection and punishment, of loosing his worldly reputation, and of injuring his secular interest. Were this all that couldbe affirmed of him, you might call him, in com mon phraseology, an honest man, but all your charitable indul gence, and all your recklessness of speech would not allow you to say, that such honesty will carry him to heaven. And why ? Because such honesty is mean and selfish in the con siderations which give rise to it, and is quite consistent with a character, in all other respects, base and unworthy. What we desiderate in this case is, that the honesty be practised from right principles and motives. Then we may safely con nect it with eternal life, because then it forms a part of the spiritual life, and there can be no doubt of its being associated in the individual, with all the other duties of Christianity ; for if a man be honest, because he fears God, and loves the Sa viour, he must, from the operation of these powerful and per manent springs of holy living, be distinguished also by personal purity, and relative fidelity, and social benevolence, , and divine piety. Hence it is, that in scripture, justice stands for the whole of practical religion and moral obligation. The true Christian is denominated the just man. The just are said to "live by faith;" and when we go to heaven, we go to " the spirits of the just made perfect." Take another example from the passage before us. There are various excellent qualities here enumerated, of which we shall afterwards give an exposition. But let us select the least significant of them ; that which says, that he who is to dwell in God's holy hill, " doeth no evil to his neighbour." This is a very negative virtue, and one to which you would not readily attach the greatest value ; and yet that he who doeth no evil to his neighbour, shall inherit the kingdom of heaven, is a scriptural proposition, and indubitably true. And wby ? Because, doing no ill to our neighbour is not a mere passive goodness, proceeding from constitutional indo lence, or natural softness, or fear of giving offence, or want of opportunities and temptations to mischief. But it is a branch of Christian love, for " love worketh no evil to his neighbour ;" and love, with which this is inseparably united, and from which it directly flows, is a " fruit of the Spirit," whose " fruit is in all goodness, and righteousness, and truth ;" and it stands united with love to God, for " he that loveth God, loveth his brother also ;" and loving God, he will not only love his brother, but he will study to do all those things which please God ; and so extensive are the connections and dependencies of this sentiment, and such an all governing influence does it exercise, that it is declared to be "the bond of perfectness, and the fulfilling of the law." We shall just give one instance more. Our Lord has told us, that if we "confess him before men, he will confess us before his Father in heaven." Now nobody can suppose that any sort of confession will answer the purpose ; that we may confess what we do not feel ; and that a mere verbal and public testimony to Christ will come up to the meaning of his requisition, and secure his open testimony to us at the last day. This would be promising reward to that very LECTURES ON PORTIONS OF THE PSALMS. 127 hypocrisy against which he uttered so many dreadful denun ciations. No : the confession to which such a glorious and encouraging promise is annexed, necessarily implies sincerity in him who makes it, and is to be recompensed for it. It implies that Christ, whom he confesses, is the object of his faith, and of his gratitude, and of his reverence, and that he confessess Christ, just because these regards for him are animating his heart, and influencing his deportment. And then it is evident, that a true confession of Christ carries along with it, and cannot be separated from, the various other excellencies which make up the aggregate of Christain char acter, and form the qualification for eternal life ; for not to speak of the renewing of the mind in which the whole ori ginates, and which brings the individual who has experienced it under total and willing subjection to the Saviour, we may easily see that since confession of Christ, is produced by faith in Christ, this faith will not merely produce that de claratory effect, but, being genuine, will produce all the ¦other sanctifying effects on the mind, and temper, and deport ment of the believer, which are its native operation, and which constitute a life of faith upon earth, and a meetness for glory in heaven. 3. We observe in the third place, that this method of stating the doctrine is attended with some important advan tages. The scripture is intended for habitual perusal. If we would derive from it all the practical benefit which it is designed or calculated to impart, we must read it through, and we must read it again and again. It must be our regu lar and unceasing study. Now, had it contained only one detailed enumeration of the Christian virtues, and had it been only with that one that the prospect of future happiness was connected, and had there been nothing in the rest of scripture, but general statements of the Christian character, or general allusions to it, accompanied with reference to the final re compense, we might indeed have become acquainted, both with the recompense and the character, and with the essen tial bearing of the one upon the other, but the impression could neither have been so lively, nor so forcible as it is by the mode of teaching arid inculcating this branch of the Gos pel system, which the Spirit of God has actually adopted. According to this mode, the specific virtues of which the Christian character is composed, are continually recurring to our observation. They are presented to us in every variety of form and aspect which can be given to them by precept, and by fact, and by parable ; and in this way, not only do we get a more perfect illustration of their meaning and their ap plication, but they are more closely interwoven with all our other knowledge and sentiments respecting saCred subjects, and acquire a firmer hold both of our memories and our affec tions. And then, by being individually associated with an ticipations of future and eternal reward, they assume a char acter of infinitely greater moment than they could otherwise do. Taken in a state of separation from their appropriate recompense hereafter, or taken collectively in a state of union with that recompense, our feeling of their importance and their obligation, would be comparatively vague, and indistinct, and feeble. But coming in reiterated statements before us ; pressed upon our attention one by one, as well as again and again ; and each of them having the weighty sanction and recommendation of a blessed immortality attached to it, — they enforce upon our minds the impression of their unspeakabje consequence to every candidate for heaven, and constrain us to an assiduous and faithful cultivation of every single virtue which can adorn our character, or prepare us for mingling with the inhabitants of heaven. They secure infinitely bet ter than any other arrangement could do, our being "holy in all manner of conversation ;" our being " fruitful in every good word and work ;" our " standing perfect and complete in all the will of God." Having made these observations on the propriety and use fulness of that mode of connecting the promise of eternal life with single virtues, and with partial delineations of charac ter, which is adopted by the sacred writers, — We would shortly apply them for your "correction and instruction." We apply them to you who "are far off;" and we beseech you to consider the Christian character, not in that loose, and distant, and indefinite way in which you have been ac customed to regard it, but in that spiritual sense, and con nected view, inwhich it is represented to you in scripture. Do not content yourselves with the semblance of any parti cular virtue on which you may have chosen to fix your pecu liar attachment ; but attend to its true intrinsic meaning, look to its necessary union with all the other duties of religion and morality, and examine yourselves by this broad, and le gitimate, and searching standard, that you may see how far short you are of what God requires of tliose that shall be saved, and that you may-be led to the blood of atonement for pardon and acceptance, and to the Holy Spirit for the trans formation of yonr moral nature, and to the word of God for that system of faith and conduct to which every expectant of immortality must conform, if he would not be disappointed oh the great day of the Lord. And we apply them to such of you as have been " brought nigh by the blood of the cross," exhorting and beseeching you, in your life of faith, and god liness, and good works, to guard against all partial contempla tions of Christian character. Let your studies be directed to all that is revealed for your guidance and your government as followers of Christ. Meditate deeply and habitually on the spiritual import, and relative bearings, of every precept that is given you, and of every grace that you are required to cultivate. Beware of letting any one virture stand as a substitute or compensation for another. Look well to the state of your hearts ; to your principles and motives ; to the uniformity and unreservedness of your obedience. And while you have continual recoures to the atonement of Christ for the " remission of your sins," have continual recourse also by prayer to that Spirit, who will make you meet for " abiding in the tabernacle, and dwelling in the holy hill of God." PART III. Let us now turn our attention for a little to the character, as here pourtrayed, of those " who shall abide in the taber nacle, and dwell ih the holy hill of God." You will observe, that it does not consist in mere profession of religion, how ever orthodox and however flaming that profession of religion may be. It is moral practice that is insisted on ; — not that profession is either improper or useless ; it is dutiful and indispensable ; but it is of so little value, comparatively speaking, that it is not once mentioned or binted at, while all the stress is laid on the maintainance of holy conduct. You will also observe, tha tthe mere outward acts of virtue are not rested in, as if they were sufficient: its internal principles and operations are also brought forward as no less important and necessary. You will observe still farther, that the account is not confined to that mere negative worth or harmlessness on which so many plume themselves, as entitling them to the reputation and the hope of Christians. That indeed is a requisite attainment, and, considering the many temptations to active and mischievous sinfulness with which we are beset, is an attainment of no inconsiderable difficulty, and no inconsiderable value. But still it is not so valuable as to supersede the pursuit of positive excellence, the discharge of substantial duty ; and in the passage before us, we are taught that while we "do the one," we must "not leave the other undone." And you will observe, finally, that the catalogue of graces here given is not limited to those that are of a more showy and striking kind. With these we are extremely apt to be satisfied, or at least to be so much enamoured as to neglect the humbler and less sig nificant virtues. But it is plain from this, as well as many other passages of scripture, that there is no moral quality so humble or so common-place as not to merit and demand our practical regard ; and that while we should make the highest efforts of integrity and generosity which fall within the compass of our power, there is no species of good conduct so obscure, and so little noticed, as to be unworthy of our cordial attachment, and our diligent endeavours. 1. The man who shall abide in God's tabernacle, and dwell in his holy hill, is said to " walk uprightly." He is not a man of mere outward or literal obedience ; he obeys with the heart. Whatever he does in conformity to the enactments of the law, he does " out of a good conscience." He acts from principle ; from respect for God's authority ; from faith in the Redeemer, and love to him ; from all those pure motives with which religion furnishes its votaries, for giving real excellence and undeviating uniformity to their conduct. He may often and greatly come short of the holi ness to which he aspires ; but still he aims at it really, cor dially, and steadily. Sincerity pervades the whole of his deportment. And whether he is seen by men or not, he lives as " an Israelite indeed, iu whom there is no guile ;" he "walks before God with a perfect heart;" and amidst his manifold failings and transgressions, studies at least to maintain purity in all his intentions, and integrity in all his ways. 2. Again he cultivates righteousness and truth. He is 12S CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. just and honest in all his dealings with his fellow creatures he respects all their Tights and privileges ; gives to every one of them his due ; withholds nothing that they can equit ably claim from him ; and would feel unhappy if he had been instrumental in inflicting upon them the most inconsid erable wrong. The most tempting opportunities of fraud may occur ; interest may prompt him to commit it ; superior skill and ingenuity may insure success in the gainful at tempt ; detection may be difficult, and punishment impossi ble. But he finds his way through all these snares and allurements, and walks firmly and perseveringly on the plain onward path of justice ; and shows that he would scorn dis honesty, though bribed to practise it by the wealth of a world. And the same regard to righteousness that he mani fests in his actions, he also manifests in his words. He " speaketh the truth in his heart ;" he thinks what he says ; he believes what he affirms ; he intends what he promises. He not only shrinks back with horror from the crime of perjury, but disdains to have recourse to falsehood and equivocation, even when not restrained by the awfulness of an oath. A lie may be the means of saving him from many a pang ; or of concealing the certain cause of much worldly shame ; or of procuring for him many desirable advantages. But he abhors the lie ; and rather than be guilty of the meanness and the sin which it implies, he will endure any suffering, he will expose himself to every degree of obloquy, and will forego the richest earthly blessings, without one feeling of regret. The God whom he serves is " a just God," and the God of truth ; and in preparing for the enjoy ment of communion with him in heaven, he "worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his heart." 3. Another feature in the character of those who are to dwell in the holy hill of God is the tenderness with which they treat the reputation and well being of their neighbour. They may be powerfully tempted to do him injury in these respects. But these temptations they resist; and in the spirit of love they refrain from every thing that may unnecessarily subject him to loss' or suffering. They " backbite him not with their tongue." They take no plea sure like malicious men, or like envious men, or like re vengeful men, in imputing to him faults which he never committed, or in proclaiming and exaggerating the errors into which he has fallen, or in giving such representations of him as to mar his promotion in the world, to cool the affec tion of his friends, to embitter the resentment of his enemies, or to hurl him from the place which he occupied in the estimation of his brethren and of society. And as they will invent nothing, so they will do nothing to his prejudice ; nothing wilfully or intentionally to work him mischief; nothing to thwart his laudable ambition ; nothing to injure his person or his property; nothing to offend and harrass his feelings ; nothing to prevent or mislead him, or in any way to hurt his spiritual interests. All these things they are careful to avoid, so that neither with design nor through heedlessness they may do harm to the least or the lowest of their kind. And they will not even help to propagate the slander which others have created. They might, according to the spirit and custom of the world, take up and circulate the " reproach against their neighbour," without feeling any remorse, or being accounted calumniators, merely because they had not originated it. But the people of God act not, in this any more than in other respects, according to the spirit and custom of the world. They are actuated by the charity which has this among its other excellent properties, that it "thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity, and hopeth all things." And under the influence of this divine principle, they will not retail what is calculated to blast the good name of another, and shelter themselves under the plea that they were only giving currency to the fame which was already " running to and fro." They will rather suppress or con tradict the reproach which has met their ear, and thus prevent it from accomplishing the wicked errand on which it has been sent abroad. They will recollect that "charity abi deth" after faith is turned into vision, and hope into enjoy ment; that its exercise will be one principal source of their happiness in the holy hill of God ; and that they will be but ill prepared for practising and relishing it in heaven, if they meet there with those to whom they had denied it upon earth. And, therefore, in the hope of dwelling in that region of love, and mingling with its affectionate inhabitants, they will, in the course of their preparation for it, not only abound in good works, but be especially careful to do evil to no man, and not to " take up a reproach against their neighbour." •1. But farther, those who are to enter heaven are here distinguished by this — that " in their eyes a vile person is contemned, while they honour them that fear the Lord." Very different is the manner in which irreligious and worldly men bestow their regards. They look chiefly, if not solely, to external circumstances and adventitious distinctions, and are determined by these in the judgments which they form, and the sentiments which they cherish concerning their fel low-men. If, on the one hand, a man be humble in station ; if he be poor in his outward estate ; if he be meanly fed, and clothed, and lodged; if he be without learning and without influence, — he is the object of their contempt, what ever be the height of his religious and moral attainments. And, on the other hand, if a man be of high birth; if he be opulent ; if he be invested with temporal grandeur ; if he inhabit a palace, and be " clothed in purple and fine linen, and fare sumptuously every day ;" or if he be remarkable for his science and his scholarship, and his literary fame, — they show him every mark of deference and respect, even though he is infidel in his principles, profligate in his morals, and living " without God in the world." But it is the very reverse of this with such as have set their faces Zionward, and in their journey thither are en lightened and guided by the Spirit of truth. A man may have all the personal accomplishments, and all the exterior greatness that human wisdom can acquire, or that human ambition can point to, yet they esteem him not on these ac counts. They know that these by themselves are of no value in the sight of God, and that they cannot accompany their possessor to the eternal state. They, therefore, look for the more substantial and acceptable and precious attain ments of piety and holiness ; and not finding these, but dis covering in their place a moral vileness, alienation from the love of God, unbelief of the Saviour, attachment to sin, base affections, worldly dispositions, and licentious habits, they contemn the person to whom such unworthiness cleaves, and by whom it is cherished. They do not refuse him the civil honour and external respect to which his situation in society may entitle him ; but they give him not the homage of the heart; and, surrounded as he is by all that is fitted to captivate and dazzle the worldly eye, they cannot lose sight of his corruption and wickedness ; and thinking of that as determining his claim to their deference, they pity him, they look down upon him, they despise his character, they tes tify against his evil deeds, and will not allow their soul to " come into his secrets," or their honour to be "united tohi3 assembly." But let a man be as destitute and abject in his outward circumstances as he may ; let him be the victim at once of poverty, and disease, and neglect ; let the world in their wisdom have settled it that he shall be passed by as undeserving of notice, and trampled on as one who has no right to complain ; still they are not influenced by these seeming disadvantages to harbour any dislike to him, or to treat him with any contumely. They remember that Laza rus was a beggar, and " laid at the rich man's gate full of sores," and yet that when he died, he "was carried by the angels to Abraham's bosom." They remember that the apostles were deemed " the off-scouring of all things," and were "despised," and " persecuted," and " defamed;" and yet that they were " full of the Holy Ghost" and of spiri tual power, and came at length to " the spirits of the just made perfect, to Jesus the mediator of the new covenant, and to God the judge of all." They remember that a greater than the apostles was still more lightly esteemed than Laza rus, " despised and rejected of men, had not where to lay his head," and at last expired under the ignominy of a cross ; and yet that all the while he was the Son of the most high God ; that his very humiliation perfected his character; that amidst the indignities that were heaped upon him, he was triumphing over sin and hell ; and tliat he now reigns on the throne of glory, the dispenser of salvation, and the joy of his redeemed people. And remembering these things they learn to penetrate through the guise of outward wretch edness, sad and revolting as it may be ; and beholding in him whom it covers, one " who fears the Lord," whose heart is devoted to the saviour, who is living in faith, and purity, and patience, and heavenly mindedness, and who from his hut of poverty, and his bed of straw, lifts up the voice of praise to the God of his salvation, and darts the eye of hope forward to the unsuffering kingdom that awaits him ;— be holding in him thus a child of God, and an heir of immor tality, they honour him with the unfeigned tribute of their approbation and their love; they fix on him a kindly and delighted eye; they are not afraid to minister to him as "a fellow citizen with the saints ;" and their souls glow with LECTURES ON PORTIONS OF THE PSALMS. 129 exalted ' affection towards him, as they anticipate the day when they shall see him arrayed in the robe, and wearing the crown of " life eternal." And by thus nourishing in their souls a hatred of sin and a love of holiness, whatever be the dress which hides the deformity of the one, and con ceals the beauties of the other, they gradually and certainly fit themselves for " abiding in the tabernacle of the Lord, and dwelling ih his holy hin." 5. Then comes the inviolable honour and unbending integ rity of this character. " He sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not." He prefers a good conscience to every thing else. Relief from personal injury, and the advancement of his earthly interests are not prized by him when they come into competition with a faithful and scrupulous adherence to his word. If he has taken an oath, or what should be the same thing with a man of real principle, given his solemn promise, iu any transaction which he may find it convenient or profitable to have annulled and cancelled,— whatever be the inconveniences or losses to which its fulfilment may sub ject him, and even though by breaking it he should " gain the whole world," and escape any penalty from the hand of mor tals, yet he " holds fast his righteousness and will not let it go." He keeps his oath, he adheres to his promise, in the full extent of its import and design. He suffers for it ; but lie is contented to suffer, since he has the approving and pleasing testimony of his own mind ; and he is willing to en dure any consequences that may result from his engagement, provided he keeps his " conscience void of offence towards God and men." He is looking forward to heaven as the dwelling-place of the saints ; and he cannot look forward with comfort or satisfaction to the company of those to whom lie was bound by the most sacred ties, but whose expecta tions he had frustrated, and whose interests he had impaired, at the instigation of his own selfishness, and at the expense of his own pledged veracity ; and still more, he is looking forward to heaven as the place where he hopes to derive inef fable enjoyment from the immediate and glorious presence of God, and that is altogether inconsistent with an act which involves in it the violation of what he had invoked God to witness as the God of omniscience and of truth, and the breach of that commandment which says, " Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain." 6. Finally, " He putteth not out his money to usury, nor taketh reward against the innocent :" That is, he will not in crease his wealth by any unjust or oppressive means. He will prosecute his worldly employments with becoming care and diligence. He will not despise the maxim which says, that " the hand of the diligent maketh rich." And he will receive with gratitude, and enjoy with moderation, whatever his heavenly father is pleased to grant as the fruit of his law ful enterprise, or the reward of his honest industry. But then he has Christian principle, Christian love, and Chris tian hope, to elevate him above the world, to preserve him amidst the debasing and selfish influence of its peculiar occu pations, and to give him the victory over its most powerful allurements. He may lend his money for gain, as he may endeavour to profit by any other species of property ; but he will not employ it as an engine of ungenerous and aggrandis ing power. He will not take advantage ofthe misfortunes and distresses of others to exact from them what they are un able to afford, and to aggravate their hardships, already suffi ciently severe, in order to add to his own treasures, already more than adequate to all his need. Believing ahd feeling that the substance which providence has conferred upon him is committed to his stewardship for the good of others, he will not act so inconsistently with that scriptural doctrine as to make his substance an instrument of evil to them. He Will never regard the liberality of his gifts to some, as any atonement or any compensation for his griping cruelty to others ; but considering all that he has a sacred trust, for which he must finally render an account, he wili refrain from every attempt to increase it by usurious dealings* and will rather, according to the proverbial phraseology of the Bible, be ready to " lend to those who would borrow of him, hoping for nothing again." And as he detests and avoids usury, so his soul abhors a bribe, nor will he permit it to stain his hand. Whether he be an administrator of public justice, or whether he be a private individual who has it in his power to do injury to his fellow men, he will never encroach on their rights, nor deal out iniquity to the innocent. No reward that can be offered will succeed in prevailing upon him to touch a hair of their head. He will rather throw around them the shield of his protection; he will vindicate their character, Vol. II.— R and maintain their cause, and defend them from eveiy as sault; and this he will do, though detraction and malice should be all his recompense, and though an opposite con duct would have secured for'him much of the gold that pfer- isheth, the favour of the powerful, and the countenance of the great. He is proof against all such temptations to unjust and ungenerous conduct, for he looks to God as his father, to men as his brethren, and to heaven as his home. Such, my friends, is a very short and imperfect view ofthe character of those who are to dwell in the holy hill of the Lord, so far as it is here unfolded. Let me exhort you to study it ; to study it minutely and seriously, and with application to yourselves. You must necessarily be distinguished by it, otherwise you cannot see the kingdom of heaven. This you are assured of, and this you profess to believe. Be persuad ed then to cultivate it with unceasing activity. Pray, and strive that you may be all which is required of those who would enter the celestial abodes ; that you may have the prin ciples, the temper, and the conduct that is prescribed to them by him who "sits upon the throne;" and that as every day brings you nearer the eternal world, every day may find you better prepared for entering into the "rest which remaineth for the people of God." " He that doth these things shall never be moved." He shall be like Mount Zion itself which abideth for ever. Only build upon the Rock of Ages ; cling to the mighty Redeemer ; live as the citizens of heaven, — and nothing shall then be able to remove you from your place, to hurt your interests, or to blast your hope. You are safe amidst the buffettings of adversity, and amidst the assaults of temptation, and amidst, the malice and persecution of your bitterest and your mightiest foes. " All things are yours, for ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's." He "knoweth them that are his ;" and having engraven on the tablets of your hearts^and on the features of your character, the marks of his true children, he will keep you as « the apple of his eye" dur ing all the time of your sojourningin the wilderness, and then he will put you in possession of the riches, the -honours, and the pleasures ofthe promised lan.d. LECTURE l\. ' Preserve me, 0 God ¦• for in thee do I put my trust. 0 my soul, thou hast said unto the Lord, Thou art my Lord ; my goodness extendeth not lo thee ; But to the saints that are in the earth, and to the excellent, in whom is all my delight.' — Psalm xvi. 1. — 3. The first thing that David does in this beautiful and inter esting Psalm, is to commend himself to the protection of God, as the God in wltom he had placed his confidence. And this is what all of us will do, who are living under the influence of vital and experimental religion. If we have been permitted to know God as he really is, and if we have been enabled'to cherish towards him those sentiments which it becomes us to feel, an implicit and unwavering affiance in him must ne cessarily pervade and animate our breasts. He possesses all those perfections in an infinite degree, by which such affiance is created, and encouraged, and confirmed; he is full of kind ness to his people ; he is as able as he is willing to do them good ; and every promise that he has made to promote their welfare, he is unchangeably faithful to perform. So that, if we be among the number of his people, we may confide in him with our whole heart, for every communication of his grace, and for every exercise of his power, which our varied circumstances may require. This trust we will constantly repose in God, because he is constantly deserving of it, and because it is constantly de manded for our personal comfort and stability. But it will be especially active and vigorous when we are exposed to those peculiar difficulties and dangers by which every Chris tian is often beset in the course of his pilgrimage. In such seasons, and in such situations, we will think much of the divine character ; we will contemplate it as it is exhibited to our view in the revelation of the Gospel ; we will meditate on the great and glorious attributes by which it is distinguished ; we will listen to all the assurances of mercy, and to all the promises of assistance with which it stands connected in the word of truth ; we will remember how He to whom it be longs, has ih the experience of them that he knew to be his, verified every declaration that he had made, and redeemed every pledge that he had given "; and thus from what we have 130 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. 'seen with our eyes,' and ' heard with our ears,' and ' be lieved with our hearts,' we will regard him as our only ' re fuge in the time of trouble,' and cling to him as one who is 'mighty to save,' and worthy to be 'the confidence of all the ends ofthe earth.' Nor will we rest satisfied with a mere consciousness of this unlimited reliance upon God ; we will give it free expression in those cases, which are calculated to call it forth, by applying to him for the help or the deliverance that we need, in the language of devout and fervent supplication. We will be seech him to preserve us : to preserve us from the temporal adversities that would otherwise distress and overwhelm us ; but above all to preserve us from the spiritual calamities by which our souls are put in peril of present discomfort, and ' everlasting destruction.' We will beseech him to preserve us from the workings of inward corruption, and from the wiles of the wicked one, and from the snares and temptations of an evil world. We will beseech him to preserve us from the sins that most easily beset us, — from avarice, or from sen suality, or from worldly minded ness, or from indifference, or from sloth. We will beseech him to preserve us from dis trusting his providence, and from slighting his grace ; from Judas' s heartless treachery, and from Peter's cowardly denial ; from the unbelief of the Sadducees, and from the hypocrisy, and self-righteousness, and bigotry of the Scribes and Phari sees; from the iniquity that injures men, and from the impiety that dishonours God, and from the intemperance that degrades ourselves ; from the indulgences that im pair our love to the Saviour, and the prejudices and pur suits that weaken our faith in his merits ; from ' the fear of man, which bringeth a snare,' and from the ' fear of death, which makes us ' subject to bondage ; from the backsliding which fills us with present remorse, and from the apostacy which terminates in irretrievable ruin. We will beseech him to preserve us from such evil as these ; and we will enforce our treaty by the argument here employed by the Psalmist ; ' Preserve me, O God, for in thee do I put my trust.' We feel that in ourselves we have no resource, and that there is no help for us in man. But we have found in God an all-suffi cient refuge. In the exhibition of his character which he has afforded us, and in the manifold declarations which he has ad dressed to us in his word, he exhorts, he encourages, he com mands us to place our sole dependance upon Him, and to flee to him as our ' strong hold in the day of trouble.' And, there fore, when we cry to him for preservation and deliverance, it is right that we should appeal to all that he has said, and to all that he has promised ; and plead the confidence which he himself has taught us to rest on his mercy which never fail- eth, on his wisdom whose depth is unfathomable, on his strength which is mighty and everlasting, and on his 'truth which he has magnified above all his name.' ' O my soul, thou hast said unto the Lord, Thou art my Lord.' Here the Psalmist intimates that he had taken the Lord to be his Lord ; and surely it is impossible for any of us who are at once acquainted with our duty, and our interest, tortnake a better or a different choice. He is entitled to the supremacy over us in every respect in which that supremacy can be either exercised by him, or acknowledged by us. And when we refuse him any measure of homage or submission ; when we do not acquiesce in his disposal of every thing that concerns us ; when we do not cheerfully commit ourselves to him to be governed and treated according to his sovereign pleasure, we forget what is due from the creature to the Crea tor, and are guilty of rebellion against the all-perfect ruler of the universe. But it is not only our duty ; it is also our in terest to take the Lord for our Lord. Surrendering ourselves to the dominion of any other being, or asserting our own inde pendence, as if we were divinities, we provoke the holy dis pleasure of omnipotence, and must sink under its overwhelm ing weight. But yielding implicitly and unreservedly to God, who is not more the holder of all authority, than he is the fountain of all good, we must be safe, and we must be happy ; because in that case there is nothing to interrupt the current of his favour, and his favour must secure for every one who enjoys it, guardianship from all evil, and the possession of every blessing. It is necessary, however, that in this dedication of our selves to God, the heart be really and chiefly Concerned. It is the soul that must say to him, ' Thou art my Lord.' Mere language of this sort is easily employed ; and in the estima tion of those before whftm it is used, it may have all the tone. not only of sincerity, but of fervour, and it may procure for us the reputation of personal and decided piety. But going ' out _i*iu; — ~A Mna ' it .nn mpot with nn ar.r.Fmt.anne from tbe ( of truth, and will be more displeasing to him than the absence of all acknowledgment of his excellence and supremacy. Whatever we say to him ; whatever declarations we make of dependance upon his bounty, or of submission to his power ; whatever pledges we utter of future devotedness to his service and glory ; — it must all be the faithful expression of our con victions and our feelings. We must be conscious of the vow that we intimate in words having its origin, and its purpose, and its meaning within us. And He to whom it is offered must see it to be the effusion of a sentiment which goes forth with the full approbation of our understanding, and with the unreserved consent of our will, and with the cheerful tribute of our affections. And, aware of our aptness to forget what we have resolved and promised in reference to God, we must frequently Temind our souls, as it were, ofthe ties by which they are- voluntari ly and solemnly bound to him, and of the consequent obliga tions which they have to fulfil. It is of infinite importance for us, both as to comfort and improvement, never to lose sight ofthe fact that we are not our own but his. But there are many weaknesses and corruptions within us, and there are many temptations and delusions without us, which tend either to enfeeble tbe impression of that fact, or to efface it altogeth er. And, therefore, we cannot be too careful to prevent it from being impaired ; we cannot be too vigilant against the ap proach or influence of any thing that would injure it in the least degree ; we cannot be too anxious to add to its native vividness and strength ; and with a jealousy of its fading away, and with a desire of increasing its practical effect, we should often and seriously put ourselves in remembrance of what we have done, saying, like the Psalmist, ' O my soul, thou hast said unto the Lord, thou art my Lord.' Here, however, there is another evil to be guarded against. When we have consecrated ourselves to God, and when' re collecting this, we are active in his service, the Pharisaical idea is apt to steal upon us, that we have something to boast of; that our labours may be beneficial to whom they are rendered ; and that on account of these, we are entitled to his favour and protection. There cannot be a greater or more pernicious mistake. Nothing that we are capable of doing call be of advantage to God. It can neither increase the sum of his blessedness, nor the perfection of his character, nor the lustre of his glory. He is infinitely above us, and he stands in no need of us. Supreme in the happiness of his being; un bounded in the attributes of his nature ; self- existent, eternal and unchangeable, he can derive no benefit from our services, even though we had been as sinless as the angels in heaven, and as distinguished by wisdom and by strength as they aie. And how much more impressively should we feel the force of this statement, when we recollect the ignorance, and the weakness, and the pollution which adhere to us amidst our highest attainments in piety and virtue ! The vilest thing on earth may, of itself, or in its combinations, . be useful to the mightiest monarch that ever swayed a sceptre, because they stand in the relation of one creature to another creature. But as creatures we are removed at an immeasurable distance from the Creator, and on this account, we cannot be ' profita ble to our Maker, as he that is wise and kind may be profita ble to' his neighbour. Whatever we have, or whatever we do, that is entitled to the name of goodness, is the gift of his own bounty, bestowed upon us that we may have wherewithal to make a practical acknowledgment of our dependance upon him, and to render the homage which is due to so great and gracious a God. And whether we offer to him the tribute of our hearts or the praises of our lips, or the labours of our ac tive life, we must still say to him, 'All things come of thee, and of thine own have we given thee.' But while our goodness extendeth not to God, so as that it can be useful to him or meritorious in his sight, ' it ex tendeth,' says the Psalmist, ' to the saints that are in the earth, and to the excellent in whom is all our delight.' There are saints in the earth. Alienated as men naturally are from God, and pervaded as their general character is by moral transgression, there are those of them to whom this appellation may be justly applied. They are saints ; they are holy ; they love what is holy in their hearts, and they practise what is holy in their lives. Their holiness indeed has much imperfection mixed with it, and comes far short of what the divine law requires of them. But still it exists in their principles, in their desires, in their endeavours, and in their actual acquirements ; and, therefore, it confers upon them their leading and distinctive character. They are tnerepuiauon ui jiciouuai our confidence in their merit for the attainment of salva- tiott and all its blessings. And when we go to the Lord's Table, where they are brought to our recollection by solemn and significant emblems, let our faith be directed towards them with peculiar liveliness and power, and let them be rest- 138 CHRISTIAN. LIBRARY. ed on by us as the foundation of all our hope, and applied to as the source of all our joy. II. In the second place, the passage under review, affirms the constancy and the cheerfulness with which Christ was to bear his sorrows and to become obedient to the death of the cross. ' I shall not be moved ;' and ' my heart is glad, and my glory,' that is, my tongue, ' rejoiceth.' So said David personating the Messiah ; and all this was realised in the Messiah's actual deportment. In order to se cure our belief and dependance on his mediatorial work, it is perhaps enough for us to know that he finished it; that he did not stop short in the midst of it, but that he brought it to a successful termination ; that he was rewarded forits accom plishment ; and that it is meritorious to procure for all who trust in it for forgiveness, and acceptance, and eternal life. But that we may cherish those sentiments towards Christ which it becomes us to entertain, we must take a nearer view of that temper with which he bore the heavy load of suffering which was laid on him for the purpose of working out our re demption. He foresaw every pang that it was requisite for him to endure in order to save sinners, and yet he scrupled not to undertake the arduous task, and engaged in it with alacrity and zeal. As he proceeded to execute its duties, he met with numerous difficulties, and dangers, and distresses : but he shrunk from none of them ; he encountered them all with undaunted firmness ; he rose superior to them in every aspect that they assumed, and in every combination in which they assailed him. He never retreated from one scene of trial on which he was called to enter. He never was heard to ut ter a complaint under the multiplied privations which continu ally harassed him. ' He stedfastly set his face to go up to Jerusalem' where he knew that nothing awaited him but in justice, and cruelty, and death. He rebuked his disciples when they thought it foul scorn that he should submit to the wrongs which he calmly foretold. He exposed himself to the traitor's artifices, when he might have defeated them and escaped. He was in such agony that it extorted from him prayers for deliverance, yet with the same breath he declared his entire acquiescence in all the sorrows to which he was doomed by the decree of heaven. He allowed his enemies to carry him away to judgment, and to procure his condem nation, and to cover him with reproach, and to suspend him on the accursed tree, though with one frown he could have sunk them all in the gulf of perdition. He might have come down from the cross, as the multitude impiously challenged him to do, and erected on their ruin that cause which they were attempting to destroy, yet he patiently endured its an guish, magnanimously despised its shame, and struggled on through all its mysterious and unspeakable terrors, till he could say in the accents of victory, ' It is finished.' Nor was it mere constancy that he exercised in those dark and trying circumstances through which he passed. It was moreover with feelings of pleasure and exultation that he jtravelled along the path of sorrow, and ' trode the wine press' of the Father's wrath. He was not only contented, but he rejoiced to suffer as a surety for guilty men. His humiliation, and all the hardships and miseries which it implied, were the ap pointments of God's will. He was well aware that every arrow of affliction which pierced him, from the beginning to the conclusion of his mediatorial labours upon earth, got its direction, and its power, and its bitterness from the hand of his heavenly Father : and yet all along, even when they drunk deepest into his soul, he looked up and said, ' To do thy will, I take delight, O my God !' Such was the constancy and such was the cheerfulness with which our blessed Saviour bore his sufferings. And surely we cannot but admire the character in which this ex cellence was so conspicuously displayed. And if our regards should be proportioned to the extent and energy of the virtues which excite them, what must be our admiration of the cha racter of Christ, when we think ofthe number, and poignancy, and duration of his sorrows, and remember that he persevered under their pressure with a constancy which never wavered for a moment, and with a cheerfulness which found its hap piest exercise in the season of his deepest adversity ! But to our admiration of his unequalled magnanimity, we must add the more valuable tribute of our gratitude : for it was in love to our souls that his engagement to suffer and to die had its origin ; and it was by that love to our souls that he was animated to fulfil his generous engagement, with the unbending fortitude and the unaffected gladness which he exhibited throughout the whole course of his endurance. And if we ought to love him because he has so loved us, 0 how deep-seated should our affection be ! How ardently sliould it burn towards him by whose compassion it has been kindled! And how resolutely and stedfastly should it be expressed in spite of all the sacrifices which it may cost us, and of all the troubles and trials in which it may involve us! And while we admire the character of Christ, and cherish gratitude and love to him on account of the constancy and cheerfulness with which he ' bore our griefs and carried our sorrows,' let him be in this Tespect tbe object of our close and habitual imitation. As his disciples we have much evil to meet with before we ' enter into rest;' bodily pain, worldly disappointments, mental distress, spritual trials, a thousand things to harass and afflict us in our journey through this vale of tears. Now let us be like our divine Master, and let ' none of these things move us.' Let us ' bear our cross' with patience. Let ns be more than patient : let our ' heart be glad and our tongue rejoice' in tribulation. Let us ' take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in persecutions, in distresses' with which we may be visited for our attach ment to his Gospel, or our activity in the cause of Christian benevolence. And let us look well to ' Jesus the author and the finisher of our faith,' as he is held out to us in the Holy Scriptures, giving himself to a degree of suffering and to a kind of death, infinitely more awful than what we can ever be called to endure, that we may catch some portion of that lofty spirit which his severest woes were unable to subdue, and that we may go back into the world, better prepared to sustain the burdens of life, and to triumph over the fears and the agonies of death. III. Let us now consider in the third and last place, what it was, according to the language of the Psalmist, that sup ported and cheered our Saviour in the midst of his sufferings. And, first, he tells us that he ' set the Lord always before him.' He set the Lord always before-him as the great ob ject of his regard ; to whom his utmost devotedness was due, and in whose dispensations it was at once his honour, his duty, and his happiness to acquiesce. To his will he in every thing submissively bowed. To his character he paid the unlimited homage which perfect and uncreated excellence deserved. To his glory he felt that every affection of the heart, and every action of the life should be uniformly sub servient. And thus setting the Lord before him, he was pre vented from yielding to those claims of self love which might otherwise have proved too powerful for him to resist. He could not have declined his sufferings at first, or prematurely ceased to bear them, without opposing the divine will, which he had with authority as well as in wisdom appointed them ; without affronting the divine character whose brightest attri butes they were intended to display ; and without obstructing the divine glory, which was to be manifested equally in their fitness and their effects. And the boundless piety of Christ, being not only hostile to all such regardlessness of what was due to God, but ambitious of every thing by which he could be honoured or in which he could be obeyed, made him at once patient and delighted to bear the whole weight of afflic tion that was laid upon him, for accomplishing God's pur poses of mercy to our fallen race. Now let us also ' set the Lord always before us.' When we are visited with affliction of whatever kind, and in whatever degree, let us remember that it ' does not spring out of the ground,' and that it must not be considered and treated as an evil which has no connection with what is good in its origin or in its issue. We should recollect that it proceeds, either directly or indirectly, from the hand of that great Being who manages all our lot; that it indicates the wisdom, the mercy, and the faithfulness of his dealings with us, and that if it be allowed to ' have its perfect work,' it will in its final results reflect honour on his administration, and redound to the ad vantage and happiness of our souls. And recollecting these things, let us submit, without murmuring, to all the hard ships of our condition, and even ' count it all joy when we fall into divers trials, and tribulations. In the next place, our Saviour tells us that he was supported and cheered in the midst of his sufferings, by the assurance that G od was ' at his right hand.' He was not in a forlorn and help less state — unprotected against the assaults of his foes — unsus- tained under the weight of his calamities — abandoned to the feebleness of human wisdom and human strength, and left to resources as uncertain as they were inadequate in ' the time of his need.' Had this been the case, and had he known it, his heart would have sunk into despondency, the work of re demption would have failed in his hands, and we should have had no suffering obedience — no atoning death, on which to rely for acceptance. But far different was his situation. LECTURES ON PORTIONS OF THE PSALMS. 137 Omnipotence befriended him. The arm of Jehovah was stretched out for his stay and his deliverance. His enemies might be numerous and strong, but there was one to help him mightier than them all. His perplexities might be great, but they were nothing to the scan of unerring wisdom. His anguish might be bitter and severe, but his oitterest and se verest anguish must have given way to the consolations of divinity. His trials might be round about him, and within him, and press close and hard upon his inmost soul ; but there was nearer to him still than these could be, that -God who has the universe at his command, and is pledged to preserve his chosen from all that would injure and over whelm them. All this the Saviour knew. He knew that Deity was thus present with him, and thus engaged in his behalf. He confided in the great truth as one which would be realized in every exigency of his case. And fully convinced that he had only to trust and pray, in order to experience, in richest abundance, the aid that would uphold him, and the comfort that would cheer him, and the interposition that would deliver him in all his times of danger and of need, he ' feared no evil' that could possibly befal him, at any stage of his perilous undertaking. His dangers might be imminent, and his prospects dark, and his sorrows multiplied and great, but he cast himself on the protection of the Almighty, whose servant he was, and whose work he was doing ; and he re joiced in the sense of present safety, and in the hope of ultimate triumph. Such was our Saviour's ' strong hold in the day of trouble ;' let it also be ours. If we be followers of him, God is at our right hand, as he was at his, and we may warrantably exer cise the same reliance, and take to ourselves the same en couragement which sustained and animated him along the path of suffering. God is always beside us to observe our circumstances, to listen to our petitions, to guide us through our difficulties, to soothe us in our distresses, to rescue us out of the hand of our adversaries, and to keep us from falling away in the hour of temptation 'from our own sted fastness.' Is not he possessed of every attribute to which we would appeal for comfort and for preservation ? Has he not pro mised to put forth these attributes in our behalf as often as our situation requires their exercise ? Does not the infinite perfection of his nature insure the fulfilment of that gracious promise in all its extent? And does not the experience of our Redeemer, who showed what we might expect, as well as exemplified what we- ought to do, afford us a practical and satisfactory demonstration of the faithfulness with which our heavenly Father will communicate to us all that he has taught us to pray and hope for in the course of our pilgrim age ? Let us then confide in him without hesitation or re serve. Let us bear upon our minds continually the lively persuasion that wherever we are, and whatever we suffer, he is present with us in the character of our guide, our comforter, and our protector. Let us ask, according to our necessities, that we may receive what he is both able and willing to be stow for their relief. Let us lean upon him in the exercise of a faith which looks perpetually to his word, and doubts as little of its veracity as of its kindness. And when the multitude or the severity of our trials would lead us to despond, let us think of the conduct arid the consolations of Christ, and re monstrate with ourselves for not cherishing the confidence by which he was held up, and say ' Why art thou cast down, 0 my soul, and why art thou disquieted within me ? Hope thou in God for I shall yet praise him, vtho is the health of my countenance and my God.' . Lastly, our Saviour informs us that he was supported arid cheered by the hope of a resurrection to life and blessedness. , 'My flesh also shall rest in hope. For thou wilt not leave my 1 soul in hell ; neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption. Thou wilt show fne the path of life : in thy pre sence is fulness of joy, at thy right hand are pleasures for evermore.' This was to be the determination and issue of Christ's suf ferings. They were, indeed, to ' bring him to death,' and that death was to be characterised by. all that was frightful and distressing. But he ' had hope in his death.' He knew that the dominion of the king of terrors was to be destroyed, and that he was, by returning from the grave, to ' become the first fruits of them that sleep.' God would ' not leave his soul in hell,' that is, would not allow his human spirit to remain in the state of the dead, and would not permit his body, which was as free from moral pollution as his soul, and equally sanctified with it for the work of redemption, to un dergo in any measure that process of dissolution which must pass upon all the sinful posterity of Adam. Instead of suffer- Vol. II. — S ing him to continue in the grave, he would ' show him the path of life ;' he would make the darksome valley a way along which he would conduct him to immortality ; and, ' raising him from the dead, would give him glory,' — would receive him into his heavenly presence as a triumphant Redeemer, and exalt him to his right hand, that in the fulness of ever lasting bliss he might reap the reward of his meritorious suf ferings, and his victorious decease. Christ had this prospect continually in his view. He was well aware that he should speedily ' rest from his labours' and sorrows, and that ' his rest would be glorious.' It was ' for the joy set before him that he endured the cross and despised the shame.' And knowing that when he committed his spirit into the hands of his heavenly Father, who would keep what he had thus com mitted to him, and that his body would come forth from the tomb unhurt by the power of corruption, and that thus raised again and ' justified in the spirit' by his resurrection, he would be ' straightway glorified with the glory which he had with the Father before the world was ;' anticipating such a splendid and felicitous result as this, he was resigned in suffering, and he was brave in death, beyond all that the generations of men have ever witnessed, or will ever be able to exhibit. But though we can never equal the fortitude with which our Saviour suffered and died, we may humbly imitate him in this as in other departments of his exalted character. And, indeed, it is our duty to study this resemblance to him, and to strive after it, under the influence of the same motives by which he was actuated. These motives, it is true, we have not in that high style and commanding power in which they presented themselves to his mind. Still, however, they form a part of our Christian privileges, and it becomes us to fix our regards upon them, and to surrender ourselves freely to all the effects which they are calculated to produce on our sentiments and conduct. If we are united to Christ by faith, and if we are studyingto ' be holy as he who hath called us is holy ;' then we shall be partakers of Christ's resurrection, of Christ's joy, of Christ's glory. Our bodies, indeed, must moulder into their kindred earth, and a long period may elapse before they are recalled from their dreary abode. But the doctrine is true and stable, that as Christ has risen we shall rise also — that there is ' life and immortality' for us beyond the grave — that there awaits us, in celestial companionship with him who ' is the resurrection and the life,' a 'fulness of joy, and pleasures for evermore.' And with this scene of restoration and of hap piness before us, why should we grudge to suffer, and why should we be afraid to die ? Our sufferings may be severe and protracted, but we suffer along with Christ, and suffering pa tiently along with him, we shall also reign with him in hea ven ; and as his sufferings merited. the recompense which he received in his resurrection from the dead, and his exaltation to ' the right hand of the majesty on high,' so our sufferings shall be so sanctified as to qualify us for being ' children of the resurrection,' and ' heirs of the kingdom' which he has secured for all bis faithful followers. Death may come upon us unexpectedly, and may come in his most forbidding form ; and the terrors of his coming may be more awful and ago nising than our fearful imaginations had ever conceived ; but Christ also died, and ' by his death overcame death,' spoiled him of his destroying power, and is pledged to make every believer a sharer in his dear bought victory, and in his well- earned triumph. And ' living to the Lord, and dying in the Lord,' the grave, dark and noisome as it is, is consecrated as a resting place to our mortal bodies ' till the times of restitu tion,' when he who ' lives for evermore, and has the keys of hell and death,' shall awaken us from our refreshing slumbers, and clothe us in the robe of undecaying beauty, and conduct us into that region of unclouded light, and spotless purity, and unmingled bliss, where we shall dwell and be happy for ever. And, destined to such an award as this, let us not be cast down by any calamities that can happen to us, or be im moderately alarmed by any dangers that can threaten us, either during the time of our sojourning in this evil world, or at the period of our departure from it. Let us cherish habitu ally the hope of that eternal life which God hath promised to us, and which he will assuredly bestow upon us. Let us be lieve stedfastly, and act holily, as it becomes those who have such a ' high calling' and such a glorious destination. Let our faith and our hope derive new eneTgy from the contem plation of Christ's death, by which he at once purchased our title to immortality, and ratified the charter in which it is made over to us. And then let us go on our Christian way rejoicing, trusting in the Lord Jehovah, and looking forward to ' the glory that is to be revealed.' Thus, we shall be ' filled with comfort and exceeding joyful in all our tribulation ;' and 138 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. when the hour of our departure comes, we shall take up the language of triumph and say, ' O death, where is thy sting ? O grave, where is thy victory ?' ' Thanks be to God which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.' LECTURE VII. ' Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is cover ed. Blessed is the man unto whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no guile. When I kept silence, my bones waxed old, through my roaring all the day long : For day and night thy hand was heavy upon me ; my moisture is turned into the drought of summer. I acknow ledge my sin unto thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid. I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord; and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin. For this shallevery one that is godly pray unto thee in a time when thou mayest be found .- surely in the floods of great waters they shall not come nigh unto him. Thou art my hiding-place ; thou shalt preserve me from trouble ; thou shalt compass me about with songs of de liverance. — Psalm xxxiii. 1 — 7. Part I. The passage that we have now read presents to our notice, some important and interesting particulars. There is first, the uncomfortable state of a convinced but still impenitent sinner. Secondly, there is the pardon of sin. Thirdly, there is the connection between the pardon of sin and the grace of repent ance. Fourthly, there is the happiness of such as have re pented and obtained pardon. Fifthly, there is the disposition of those who are penitent and pardoned, to engage in the ex ercise of prayer. And, lastly, there is the security of God's people in the midst of danger and distress. I. First, we have here represented to us the uncomfortable state of those who are convinced of sin but still impenitent. ' When I kept silence, my bones waxed old ; through my roar ing all the day long. For day and night thy hand was heavy upon me : my moisture is turned into the drought of summer. This was the sad experience of the Psalmist himself. He had transgressed God's law. This he both knew and felt ; and it brought along with it the pangs of remorse. His mind was conscious of having offended the divine majesty — of hav ing incurred the divine displeasure — of having done what ren dered him liable to the punishment threatened in the divine law. But he did not seek for deliverance from the burden of guilt by the confession of a contrite heart, and by application to the mercy of heaven. In both these respects he ' kept si lence.' And the consequence was, that his convictions ofthe commission, and of the evil, and of the danger of sin, con tinued to harass him as before. He could find no peace. Wherever he was, and with whatever he was occupied, ' the. hand of God was heavy upon him.' And this compunction of soul, haunting him continually, disturbing his midnight re pose, accompanying him through the active employments of the day, and incessantly troubling him with anxiety and alarm, so affected him, that the vigour and freshness of youth were exchanged for the debility and exhaustion of age, and his ' moisture was turned into the drought of summer.' Thus was it with the Psalmist; and thus in some measure will it be with all who attempt to stifle and overpower the convictions of sin. They may not be sensible of their guilt as he was ; they may not feel it so acutely ; they may not be so much alive to its impression ; and they may not suffer from it the same degree of annoyance and misery. But still, if they be really convinced that sin attaches to them, and if they see in it a forfeiture of God's favour, and if they read in it the sentence of God's wrath, how can itbe that they should escape from the anguish of a ' wounded spirit,' and not be ' filled with the terrors of the Lord ?' When I say this, I doubt not that I speak in accordance with what has been actually experienced by some of you now hearing me ; and, perhaps you are still in the situation which the Psalmist has so pathetically described as his own. The iniquity that you have done presses hard upon your conscience In that iniquity you recognise what has exposed you to the indignation of the Almighty; and the apprehension of his wrath, justly deserved and awfully threatened, is a perpetual source of inquietude and sorrow. You try to forget it in the cares of business, or to charm it away by pleasurable indul gence, or to drive it off by an effort of the will, or to reason it down by the sophistries of a carnal mind. But the endeavour is fruitless. The arrow sticks fast within you ; the wound festers in your very vitals ; and your attempts to heal it, only serve to render it deeper, and severer, and more painful than ever. It is a mercy that conscience is still awake — that it does not cease to remind you of your wickedness — that it is not yet seaTed into torpid and fatal insensibility. You have reason to bless God that his voice thus speaks to you — that his spirit thus strives with you — that he does not permit you to enjoy any inward peace, or to find rest to the sole of your foot, so long as there is within you an impenitent heart, and an unforgiven soul — that he unweariedly pursues you with his admonitions and his warnings, all destructive as they are of your present comfort, till you have abandoned the unhappy struggle which you are maintaining with your convictions, and sought for relief to your troubled mind, where alone that relief can ever be found. And the more effectually to per suade you to make no hesitation, and to lose no time in be taking yourselves to this refuge, consider, we beseech you, that the wretchedness which haunts you as transgressors, in society and in solitude, amidst care and amidst amusement, while it intimates God's willingness that you should flee from sin, both as to, its power and its punishment, is but the pre sage of that unmingled and everlasting wretchedness which awaits you in another world, if you will not listen to him in this the time of your merciful visitation ; and that to persist in keeping silence, while conscience is constraining you every hour and every moment to cry for forgiveness, and to pour forth your penitential acknowledgments at the thrbne of grace, and to apply to the divine compassion for that rest from your sins which the divine compassion is so ready to bestow, is to aggravate a thousand fold all the perils and miseries of your condition, and by lulling into apathy that internal monitor, which now pleads with you so urgently to flee equally from your present anguish, and from the ' wrath to come,' is to se cure for yourselves an undisturbed continuance in the path of^ guilt, and an uninterrupted passage to the habitations of dark- ; ness and despair. ' ! And why should you. so perversely remain in the state of suffering to which conscious unworthiness has reduced you ? You know that deliverance from the evils by which you are distressed is not to be obtained by the means to which you have hitherto had recourse. You know that nothing can re move them but the assurance of a full and free forgiveness from him whom you have disobeyed, and whose anger you have incurred. And you know, not only that he is willing to grant this forgiveness, but that he has devised and executed a plan, the whole purpose of which is to accomplish the sal vation of sinners, and to speak ' peace to them that are afar off.' Look at this blessing as it is represented to you in the Scriptures, that you may he satisfied of its sufficiency to con stitute your safety, and to quiet all your alarms. II. The Psalmist speaks of it in three ways, ' Transgression is forgiven,' ' sin is covered,' ' the Lord imputeth not iniquity.' The sinner has his transgression forgiven. ' Having broken God's law, he has become liable to the punishment which the law has denounced, and unless some adequate interposition takes place, this awful punishment must be borne by him be yond the possibility of escape. But when he to whom the prerogative of forgiving the sinner belongs is pleased to exer cise that prerogative in his favour, and to pronounce the de cree of forgiveness, the punishment is wholly remitted, his obligation to suffer it is cancelled, and no power can again bring him into the condemnation out of which he has thus been authoritatively and judicially released. _ More than this, his sin is said to be covered. The substan tial meaning of this expression is the same as that of the pre ceding one. It conveys the idea of forgiveness'. But along with that it associates another idea which tends to give it ad ditional force as to its effect on the feelings and comfort of the sinner. His sin is not, and cannot be concealed from the eye, nor obliterated from the .remembrance of Him who is as omniscient as he is holy. But having been forgiven, its con sequences are as effectually and completely done away with, and his condition as free from obrioxiousness to these, as if it had been literally hidden from the observation of the Al mighty, or beyond the Teach of his knowledge. Could we suppose him not to have seen it or not to have been acquain ted with it, no anger could of course have been kindled in him, and no penalty inflicted by him on account of it. And not in one degree more thoroughly secure would the sinner have been in that case from ' the curse of the law,' than he is, now that, though a transgressor in the sight of God, and condemn ed by him for his transgression, the sentence is recalled, and he who passed it says to him, ' Thy sins are forgiven thee.' LECTURES ON PORTIONS OF THE PSALMS. 139 And there is still another statement of more liberal import, and more emphatic phrase. It is affirmed, that the Lord im puteth not iniquity. When God justifies the sinner, he does not impute his iniquity to him — does not place it to his ac count, and punish it in his person, — but regards his as if he had not transgressed, — treats him as one of unblameable right eousness, — bestows upon him those blessings which can only be bestowed in consideration ofthe divine law being satisfied, both in its penal demands and in its active requirements. And why ? Because God has laid upon Christ all the demerit ofthe sinner, — because that demerit has been expiated by the sufferings ofthe surety, — and because, in its place, and by the same surety, there has been substituted an obedience, not only perfect in itself, but equally authorized and accepted by him whose indignation the sinner had incurred. The guilt of the sinner is imputed to Christ, who accordingly was ' made a curse for him,' and ' suffered the just for the unjust:' and the righteousness of Christ is imputed to the sinner, who ac cordingly obtains that deliverance from punishment, and that restoration to favour, which God, in the exercise at once of his holiness and his mercy, confers as the reward of right eousness so perfect and so meritorious. This is the Gospel method of salvation as unfolded throughout the sacred wri tings, and as referred to by the Psalmist in the passage be fore us, — of which the Apostle Paul has given an explanation in the fourth chapter of his Epistle to the Romans, where he quotes the very language of David, in order to illustrate his doctrine of justification by grace, through faith in the imputed righteousness of Christ. III. Now the blessing of pardon as thus secured and thus understood, is said to confer happiness upon those who re ceive it. ' Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man unto whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity.' Those only who have experienced this blessedness, can rightly comprehend its nature, and appreciate its extent. But even for such as have not had that actual experience, it can not be difficult to conceive that it is indisputably real and in calculably great. Supposing, in the first place, that the sin ner, when he is pardoned, were wholly ignorant of the change that has been effected in his spiritual condition, still he must, beyond all controversy, and beyond all calculation, be pro nounced happy : for though not aware of it, he is in fact freed from the condemnation, which, had he remained under it, would have insured his endurance of everlasting misery, and he is in fact brought into a state of reconciliation, which must ultimately insure his enjoyment of everlasting felicity. And whatever be the period of his continuance upon earth, and whatever be the anguish which the consciousness of guilt, and the dread of God's vengeance may inflict upon him, the time cannot be far distant when this season of distressing ig norance shall come to an end, and when, in the awards ofthe judgment day, he shall know, and see, and feel, that ' the anger of God had been turned away' from him, and that he had been invested with a new title to the kingdom of his father. Such, however, is the constitution of divine grace that the blessedness of the pardoned sinner is not merely in reversion and in prospect : .it is in a certain measure granted to him , even now. It not only exists as an attribute of his condition ; I but it is present with him as a benefit which he is conscious of possessing, and which affords him heartfelt consolation. Whenever the Redeemer's righteousness is imputed to him for his justification, there is simultaneously wrought in him that faith by which he receives and appropriates the imputed righteousness ofthe Redeemer, and which imparts to him an immediate sense of safety similar to what he would have had if, in the midst of some temporal danger, he had taken a firm and decided grasp of one who was both able and willing to accomplish his deliverance. He also believes the testimony of the word of truth, which says, that whosoever has such a faith is justified in the sight of God ; and the conclusion which he is inevitably led to draw from this, must more or less satisfy him, that to him ' there is no condemnation,' and that his escape from it is as certain as the Divine promise is unequivocal and true. And the grace which justifies him, and the faith through which the justification becomes his, operate such a change on his views, and principles, and tem per, that there is borne in upon him the humble hope, or the assured confidence of his being the object of God's pardoning mercy. And, with such an impression as this prevailing or reigning in his mind, can it be doubted or denied that he is blessed ? Is it a blessed thing for the rebellious subject to obtain the forgiveness of his sovereign, and to be restored to all the immunities and privileges which he had forfeited by his criminal revolt ? Is it a blessed thing for the undutiful child to have his ingratitude and disobedience pardoned, to be re-instated in the affection of his offended parent, and re invested with a title to the inheritance of which paternal dis pleasure had deprived him ? Is it a blessed thing for us ta be thus treated by those who are creatures like ourselves, and limited in their power of conferring good and of inflicting evil, and whose favour and whose frown shall shortly terminate in the grave, where they and we must lie down together ? And can it be any thing but blessedness — must it not be blessed ness inexpressibly and beyond comparison great, to be rescu ed from the vengeance, and to be recalled to the friendship, of that mighty Sovereign, that everlasting Father, whose ven geance and whose friendship can not only blast or nourish our every earthly comfort, but, what is of infinitely more im portance, affect our eternal destinies, and either exalt u3 to the highest heaven, or sink us down to the lowest hell ? O how sadly do you who are the votaries of a sinful world mistake your interest and your happiness ! You give your selves up to sensual indulgence, or you accumulate sordid wealth, or you run from one amusement and one gaiety to an other, or you engage in the busy and useful occupations of life, or your pursuits are directed to the objects of a nobler ambition, and all your activities are employed in the field of intellectual research : You do all this, and in the midst of it all, you* think yourselves happy ; you say that you are happy ; you cannot see that any thing more is necessary to make you happy ; you wonder that we can ever doubt of your be ing happy. And yet we must affirm that you labour under a grievous delusion, and that in truth you are not happy. We are aware that happiness, is in one sense a matter of feeling ; and that we should in vain attempt to persuade you that you are destitute of pleasurable emotions while you are conscious of having them. But still we must say, that you are not happy. You are not happy in comparison. Giving to your peculiar enjoyments all the value, and variety, and sweetness that you can justly claim for them, still you would not think of putting them upon a level with the enjoyments of those who believe and feel that he who is the great fountain of life and happi ness has ceased to be angry with them, and that while he has taken away all their iniquities and all the displeasure that was due on account of them, he loves them at the same time so freely and so fully as to make them heirs of his ' heavenly kingdom.' Even in speculation you must allow this to be the case ; otherwise you must allege that there are no degrees of happiness, and that the animal which is merely sentient is as happy as the angels that dwell on high and ' excel in strength.' And if from speculation you come to experience, the argument is all against you : for though you may still ad here to your position that you are happy • because you think so, it must be remembered that you are practically acquainted with nothing more than those gratifications, which are con nected with present and visible and created things, that you are ignorant ofthe delight arising from the exercises of a mind that is at peace with God, and that therefore your testimony and your opinion are not to be credited like the testimony and the opinion of those whose experience has embraced both kinds of enjoyment; and has there been any one instance in which they have not assured us that they never knew what happiness was till they had become partakers ofthe grace which pardons and saves the guilty soul, and does not their united voice declare what David declared, when, from his own per sonal feeling, he uttered and recorded the language before us, ' Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered, and to whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity ?' But again we say, thatif you persist inalleging you are happy, you are happy without reason. Supposing your pleasures were less criminal than we fear they often are ; supposing that they were all of the most exquisite and refined description ; and supposing that they were never interrupted by one pang or one disappointment, to remind you of their insufficiency ; — we should nevertheless assert that to be satisfied with them, and to count yourselves happy by means of them, is irrational and absurd. For know ye not that all this while ' the wrath of God is abiding upon you' on account of your sins ? Deny this, and then your conduct becomes consistent, though your condition remains as full of peril as before. But if you ad mit that God governs the world ; that you are responsible to him for your actions ; that you have disobeyed his law ; and that consequently you are involved in the forfeiture of his fa vour and in obnoxiousness to punishment ; if you admit this, 140 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. as most of you profess to do — then, in these circumstances, can you or should you be happy? Though all the sources of indulgence which this world affords were laid open to you, and though you had not an earthly want unsupplied, nor an earthly desire unfulfilled, could all this compensate for the evil of being subject to the curse of Almighty God, any more than it could be effectual in removing it ? Or would not your perseverance in devoting your affections to the gratifica tions of sense and time rather tend, by aggravating your guilt in the eye of offended heaven, to render your misery more certain and your folly more conspicuous ? We can conceive nothing more preposterous in the whole range of human error, no de ception more gross and melancholy, than for a man to imag ine and to insist that he is happy, because the world, and its perishing objects, and its unthinking inhabitants, are smiling upon him, while yet the terrors of incensed omnipotence and of a coming judgment are frowning on his fate. Compared with this, the maniac is wise, who, in his dreary cell, and with his crown of straw, fancies himself to be the monarch of the universe ; the slave is right and noble who boasts of lib erty, while he dances in his chains ; and the sleeping out cast is an object of complacency, when he dreams that he is ' rich and increased in goods, and stands in need of nothing,' though at that very moment he is in rags, and poverty, and wretchedness, and stands in need of every thing. Yes, my friends, yours is a sad and delusive dream, when you imagine and call yourselves happy ; while, whatever may be your temporal circumstances, and whatever may be your temporal enjoyments, the sentence of condemnation, pronounced upon you by the righteous Judge, is yet unrecalled ; while no voice from heaven has whispered that your 'sins are forgiven;' while Divine justice still asserts and urges its claim against your guilty souls ; and while, from the very scene in which you are setting up your rest, and boasting that your wine and your oil and your mirth abound, there is ' a certain fearful looking for of wrath and fiery indignation to consume you.' O that you could be awaked from this wild and fatal dream, and that your eyes were open to see the infatuation which besets you ! From your own case of fancied bliss, look to the case of those into whose number, for your own sake, we would fondly introduce you. They are blessed indeed. They not only have that inward feeling of happiness which you pretend to have ; and it is not only from its very nature profounder and more satisfying than yours, — but it can endure the test of reflec tion and examination ; it has the approbation of their own minds impartially sought for, and deliberately conferred ; and it must commend itself to the approval of every under standing that is capable of comparing one thing with an other, and of forming a sound and unbiassed judgment on the operations of the human heart. It does not reject any enjoyment which God is pleased to bestow ; it is not at va riance with one innocent pleasure of life; and it has no natural alliance with a single evil for the suffering of which it does not contain an] ample recompence. But it is princi pally and permanently derived from being delivered out of the greatest calamity, and from being put in possession ofthe richest inheritance, that can enter into the lot of an immortal being. The more it is considered, the more is its ex cellence demonstrated, and the more is its value felt. And it has this unspeakable advantage, that its worth and its con tinuance have no dependance on the fluctuations which belong to all other enjoyments, but remain untouched and undimin ished, and are even enhanced and secured by the crosses, and troubles, and disappointments, which denude the sinner and the worlding of all their blessedness, and overwhelm them in misery and despair. O then, if feeling deceive you, let the deception yield to the dictates of reason, and act upon the conviction, that if you are happy, you ought, not to be happy, lying as you are, under the curse of God : and let it be the earnest desire of your heart that you may be happy, like those whose situation the Psalmist describes when he says, ' Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man to whom the Lord im puteth not iniquity.' Aud should you still be obstinate, and content yourselves with the enjoyments that are consistent with an unpardoned state, and go on to live as if you both were, and had reason to be, happy, let me just conclude with hinting to you, that if, on any principle of reason, or propriety, or experience, you can be called happy, you are happy only for a moment. I allude not to the uncertainty which attaches to every one of your earthly pleasures — though even that consideration should not be without its influence — but I refer to the short period during which on any supposition they can be yours. Multitudes among the generations that are passed, lived and thought and felt as you are doing ; they paid no regard to the blessedness of which the Psalmist speaks with so much emphasis ; they wrapped themselves up in the fond persua sion that all was well with them, and refused to seek for any other, or any higher happiness than what they found in the gratifications of a carnal mind. And where is their happiness now ? Did not death ' bring it to a perpetual end ?' Could the remembrance of it have any other effect than that of in creasing the agony of that punishment to which their unfor- given spirits were doomed when they appeared before the tribunal of their God ? And in like manner, will not a few short years put a final period to your boasted felicity ? And will not every indulgence to which you now so eagerly de vote yourselves become as if it had never been ? And will not you then be left to sink into utter perdition, under the burden of that guilt which now lies so heavy on your souls, and notwithstanding which you have the folly and the pre sumption to rejoice, as if you, and you alone, were happy ? O be persuaded but to look forward a little way, that you may see how short your course of worldly enjoyment is, and how darkly and wretchedly it must terminate. And then cast your eyes upon the path along which the justified sinner is pursuing his way. It looks to you as if it were through a dreary wilderness ; and so it is. But amidst all the sorrows and difficulties of that wilderness, he has the favour of a for giving and reconciled God to uphold and to cheer him ; to be his ' pillar of cloud by day, and his pillar of fire by night ;' to fill him with a peace which the world that you serve can neither give nor take away. And his journey is as short as yours ; but 0 how differently does it terminate ! It termi nates in a land of rest, and bliss, and glory, where the joy that he now feels from the sense of God's pardoning mercy, shall be freed from all that impairs it here, and where it shall be such as to afford the most delightful and the only satisfy ing illustration of that great truth which we partially expe rienced upon earth, — that ' blessed is he whose trangression is forgiven, whose sin is covered, and to whom the Lord im puteth not iniquity.' Let me beseech you then to seek after this happiness with your whole heart. ' Give no sleep to your eyes, nor slumber to your eye-lids,' till you have asked and obtained the forgive ness of your sins. Apply for that blesssing through faith in the atonement and righteousness of the great Redeemer. Pray that it may be communicated to you in 'demonstration ofthe Spirit,' so that you may feel in your experience that you have ' obtained mercy,' and be glad in the possession and enjoyment of such a privilege. And He who sent his own Son to be a propitiation for your sins, and is now ' in him reconciling the world to himself,' will lend a gracious ear to your petition, and blot out your iniquities, and give you to partake of all the blessings of the everlasting covenant. PART II. We have considered, in the first place, the uncomfortable state of a convinced, but still impenitent and unpardoned sinner ; in the second place, the blessing of pardon itself; and, in the third place, the happiness of those who have been so privileged as to obtain that blessing. IV. We come now, in the fourth place, to consider repent ance as connected with the forgiveness of sin. ' I acknow ledged my sin unto thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid; I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord, and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin.' Confession of sin has no reference to the idea of making God acquainted with our unworthiness. In confessing our fault to a fellow-creature, one principal part of the act fre quently consists in revealing to him what he did not know be fore, and what he would never have known but for our commu nication. With God, however, the case is entirely and ne cessarily different. He is already intimately and perfectly aware of our guilt, of all its extent, of all its particulars, and of all its aggravations. Confessing to him, therefore, must mean something else than merely telling him of our unwor thiness. It plainly stands opposed to that state of mind in which the transgressor is when he is awakened in some measure to see his sinfulness, but not yet sufficiently affected with the sight to act according to its influence and tendency. In that state he is sensible that he has committed many iniqui ties, and he is so far convinced of his demerit and his danger as to feel uneasiness from it. But still he labours to per- LECTURES ON PORTIONS OF THE PSALMS. 141 suade himself that things are not so bad with him as his fears would suggest ; he tries to believe that such and such actions, for which his conscience had been upbraiding him, have, in truth, no moral evil in them; he is ingenious in devising, and eager in discovering excuses, by which he may palliate conduct, the ungodly or immoral nature of which he cannot wholly deny; he will not recognize such depravity in his heart and life, as should make him tremble for his safety, and anxious to secure it; he struggles to keep down eVf*i rlsinS of remorse— to check every feeling of anxiety and alarm ; and he strives to satisfy his mind that he has not been so disobedient to the law of God, as to subject him to condemnation and punishment. When, however, his con victions of sin become powerful, his sense of its evil clear and acute, and his consciousness of its burden too oppressive for him to bear, he ceases to take a partial or a flattering view of his spiritual character. He feels that__when he maintains his comparative innocence he is but deceiving himself with a vain and false imagination. Bitter experience teaches him that ' there is no peace to the wicked,' even when he is most resolute in speaking peace to his soul. All his sophistries, and all his stout-heartedness, and all his fond delusions are overborne by the aspect which his guilt now assumes. And instead of having recourse to what might be supposed to ex tenuate his offences or to justify his conduct, he chooses rather to admit that such an attempt is utterly hopeless ; he does homage to the truth, mortifying and humiliating as It is, that he is nothing but a great and miserable sinner ; and he seeks for relief to his agitated or dejected spirit by a free, in genuous, and unreserved acknowledgment that he is charge able with rebellion against God which exposes him to divine indignation, and which it is beyond his power to expiate. He not only sees the folly of imposing upon himself, by en deavouring, as it were, to impose upon omniscience ; he is not only alive to the double guiltiness of first sinning, and then trying to think that he has not sinned, or has not sinned so as to provoke God ; he is not only struck with the danger of thus putting a veil upon his iniquities, and steeling himself against the impression of that unalterable turpitude which belongs to them, and of that coming ruin in which they must in this case involve him ; — not only do these things affect him deeply, and determine him, instead of struggling any longer with his convictions, to yield altogether to their impulse, and to allow them their full play on his feelings andfiis fears ; he is also encouraged to cherish them by the views which he begins to take of the grace and mercy of Him against whom he has sinned, and by the assurances which are held out to him, that ' the blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin,' and that the divine compassion extends to the chief of sinners And, therefore, he.pours out his heart in unqualified and undis guised confession, pleading guilty to every offence which the holy eye of God has marked in his deportment, anxious that in no one instance, and in no one degree, he should indulge- in a mitigated opinion of his delinquencies, and studying to take the completest survey, and to have the deepest sense, and to make the frankest and the fullest avowal, of that de merit which adheres to him as a hater and a transgressor of the divine law. / It is quite evident that confession of sin forms but a part of :, repentance. It is only one ofthe steps which the penitent : takes in the course of that transition which he makes, or of that change which he undergoes, when he turns from sin unto God. And yet' it obviously stands here for the whole of re pentance, having the blessing of forgiveness and salvation an nexed to it, and intimating the Psalmist's return from that state of guilt into which he had plunged, to the holy princi ples and holy practice which he had criminally abandoned This is not uncommon in Scripture.* We read in another pas sage besides this, that ' if we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all un righteousness/ Such a substitution of a part for the whole of repentance, seems to proceed on the same general principle, according to which we often find a single Christian virtue put fbrthe Christian character at large ; as when our Saviour says, ' Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.' Here mercy stands for every thing which a good man is required to possess. And, when properly considered, such a representa tion is perfectly correct : For the mercy here spoken of is genuine mercy, — mercy wrought by the spirit of God, and governed by right and worthy motives ; but this being the case, we may be quite sure that this grace will not stand alone, but will be accompanied and connected with every * See Lecture DI. Part H. other grace that characterises a genuine disciple of Christ. The spirit of God carinot be supposed to implant the senti ment of mercy, and to leave the mind unfurnished with those other excellencies which are equally becoming, and equally necessary, and without which the persons whom it distin guishes would not be men of God, ' furnished unto all good works.' And the motives which lead to the cultivation of this moral quality, must, of course, operate to the cultivation of justice, temperance, faith, humility, and every remanent virtue which goes to constitute that character to the possess ion of which the promise of salvation is annexed. Now, in like manner, and for a similar reason, confession of sin is ta ken to signify the whole of repentance. This confession is not supposed to be a mere verbal or formal acknowledgment of iniquity, which is perfectly consistent with perseverance in the iniquity which is confessed. It is understood to be sin cere and worthy; and that being the case, it proceeds from just and Scriptural views of sin ; it implies a sacred homage to the character and the law of God ; it is associated with godly sorrow and self-abasement ; it is quickened by a believing re gard to the mediation of Jesus ; and it is succeeded by prac tical reformation and holy obedience. And, viewed in that light, and in these relations, it may, with the greatest propri ety, be spoken of as we speak of repentance itself, and set down as bringing along with it the rich recompense which divine benignity has been pleased to attach to the exercise of that comprehensive grace. And we may remark also a pecu liar propriety in its being so employed in the passage before us. For, the Psalmist had been speaking of the misery that he experienced in consequence of his 'keeping silence,' or re fusing utterance and effect to his convictions of sin ; and now that his mind is relieved by adopting an opposite course, and giving vent to his feelings in an acknowledgment dictated by those full and affecting views of his guilt which would ter minate in a thorough change; he very naturally ascribes to it the substantial character and beneficial results connected with repentance. ' I acknowledge my sin unto thee, and mine ini quity have I not hid : I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord, and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin.' Repentance, as expressed by confession of sin, is here uni ted with the blessing of forgiveness. And this is a union re cognized and stated throughout the whole of Scripture. The doctrine Of God's word is plainly and unequivocally this, — that while the impenitent must perish in their sins, the truly penitent shall obtain the pardon of their sins, and final admiss ion into the kingdom of heaven. We must be very careful, however, to entertain accurate notions of the relation which these two things bear to each i other. It is not the relation of cause and effect. You do not ' obtain forgiveness on account of your repentance. It might ! easily be shown, from the nature of repentance itself, that it could not procure such a benefit by any worth or virtue or efficacy of its. own. But I would just remind you of one es sential truth in the gospel scheme, and in the gospel record ; namely, that it is ' through the blood of Christ that ye have redemption, even the forgiveness of your sins.' It is for the sake of what Christ did and suffered, as an atoning sacrifice, that God in his undeserved mercy blots out your iniquities. And any weight given to your own doings in the attainment of this mighty boon, is just to detract so much from the riches of divine grace, and from the merit ofthe only Saviour, and to evince a spirit which is at once opposed to the gospel method of deliverance, and most inconsistent with the primary and essential elements of repentance itself. Forgiveness is annexed to the exercise of faith, but neither is faith the cause of your forgiveness, nor the foundation on which you can rest either your application for that blessing, or your hope of re ceiving it. It is nothing else than an acceptance o'f Him who expiates your guilt by the oblation of himself, and procures for you by his exclusive merit the pardon that you need. In its proper exercise, it withdraws your regards entirely from your selves, and fixes them solely on the atoning death and finish ed work of the Redeemer. And as this faith is a leading , principle in the- true penitent, every true penitent will lose sight of all that is in himself, and place his confidence entire ly in that one sacrifice by which Jesus Christ has taken away the sins ofthe world. But still it must not be forgotten that repentance is neces sary — absolutely and indispensably necessary for you. It is necessary for maintaining consistency in God's administration towards you — for nothing could be more contradictory to his moral perfection than to make provision for the pardon of your sin, and to allow you to continue in the love and practice of it. It is necessary to fit you for enjoying his favour and friendship 142 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. upon earth, it being impossible for him to hold communion with you, or for you to have any relish for his loving kind ness, while you continued ' enemies to him in your minds, and by wicked works.' It is necessary to qualify you for the employments and the blessedness ofthe heavenly world, be cause these are so holy and immaculate, that an unconverted man could neither willingly engage in the one, nor have any satisfaction or complacency in the other. It is necessary in all these important respects ; and we cannot imagine a wilder or more fatal delusion, than for such as have not repented to appropriate to themselves the blessedness of those ' whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered, and to whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity.' We cannot here enter par ticularly into the nature and process of that repentance which you must exercise ; but we would earnestly press upon you the necessity of having this evidence of your spiritual safety ; and would beseech you to try and examine yourselves in or der to ascertain whether you indeed possess it ; and never to rest satisfied till in this respect ' there is no guile in your heart,' and till you can say with the Psalmist, in the full im port of his language, ' I acknowledge my sin unto thee, and mine iniquity have I nothid. I said, 1 will confess my transgres sions unto the Lord ; and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin.' V. We now come to consider the disposition of those who are penitent and pardoned to engage in prayer. ' For this shall every one that is godly pray unto thee, in a time when thou mayest be found.' The true penitent may be denominated godly during every period of his progress ; from the first moment that he gets de cided views of the evil of sin, till he comes to abound in every good word and work. And at every period of his pro gress, he feels an inclination to pray. Nothing is more na tural to him—nothing more requisite for him — nothing more beneficial to him. Whenever he is thoroughly convinced of sin, his heart instinctively ascends in supplication to the throne of God. He is impressed with an overwhelming sense ofthe evil of sin, in its contrariety to the divine law, and in its ob- noxiousness to the divine wrath. His conscience tells him that it cleaves to him, and that it has involved him in dishon our and perdition. He is aware that there is no deliverance, and no safety for him but what must como from that great Being whose authority he has disobeyed, and whose anger he has incurred. He knows, also, that his offended Maker is as compassionate as he is holy, and is ready to forgive all that come to him by ' the new and living way' that he has appoint ed. And thus, not merely urged by his spiritual necessities,' but encouraged by the divine willingness to supply them, he looks up and says, ' God be merciful to me a sinner.' He be seeches God to ' save him from going down to the pit' — to pardon his manifold iniquities, and thus to speak peace to his guilty and troubled soul. Nor is he contented with once offeringup this supplication. He is too strongly impressed with the magnitude of his guilt and the imminence of his danger ; he thirsts too vehemently for the blessing that he has implored ; he is too anxious and fearful about falling short of that which he so greatly needs and so devoutly wishes for, to be satisfied with such a rare and short-lived application to the fountain of mercy. He con tinues to ask for the divine forgiveness and favour with a fer vour and an importunity, such as might be expected in the case of one who knew that, if he succeeded, eternal felicity would be his, and that if he failed, he must die, and that for ever. And while he perseveres in petitioning for mercy to pardon him, he also supplicates ' grace to help him in his time of need.' He knows that he is polluted as well as guilty ; that he must be sanctified as well as justified ; that of his own strength he can no more do the former than he can do the lat ter ; that both achievements must be performed by ' the great power of God ;' and therefore, he prays, that while he is rescued from the curse of the law, he may be also emancipat ed from ' the bondage of corruption,' and ' created again in Christ Jesus unto good works.' He is aware, that though God may have accorded to him the forgiveness he has asked, yet that he has continued need of the pardoning mercy he has experienced ; that he is every day sinning against his Maker and Redeemer, and conse quently is in daily want of that blessing, which can henceforth come only from him who at first bestowed it ; and therefore he ceases not to intreat it from his merciful father in heaven ; and amidst all the prayers that he offers up, he never forgets to ask the repeated forgiveness of his repeated transgressions, He is also sensible that the change which has been commen ced in his soul, can no more be carried on and completed, than it was originated, by his own independent energies ; that he must have the divine help to keep him from falling back into that state of blindness, and insensibility, and degradation from which he has been delivered ; that without it, he would cease even to feel any desire for the thorough renewal and final purification of his character ; that every view of the evil of sin which he had obtained, would quickly be obscured and lost; that all his good resolutions would be feeble and unavailing ; that sin would regain its mastery over his affections and his conduct ; that he would assuredly fall back into that state of impenitence, and unbelief, and wickedness, from which he was happily emerging. And therefore he prays, that ' He who had begun the good work in him, would perfect it until the day of Christ ;' would save him from the corruption of his own heart ; strengthen in him all the holy dispositions which he had implanted ; fortify him against the assaults of tempta tion, and the inroads of his spiritual enemies ; carry forward ; the process of his sanctification, and continue to administer to him that direction and that assistance, that sufficient grace and perfect strength, which would keep him from falling away, and ' preserve him blameless unto the coming of his Lord.' He prays for these things. He prays for them with an ar dour and an earnestness, proportioned to the lively conviction that he has of their infinite importance and indispensable ne cessity. He prays for them in the name of that great High Priest to whom every true penitent in every age has looked as the only foundation of hope. He prays under the influence of that encouragement which he draws from the goodness of God already vouchsafed to him in opening his eyes to the dan ger and misery of his condition, and revealing himself to him as ready to forgive, and imparting to him some portion ofthe relief and blessedness which accompany the communications of his pardoning love. And he prays 'in a time when God may be found.' He considers that any delay in applying at the throne of grace would be both idle and dangerous — that no season can be more proper than that in which the hearer of prayer is himself prompting him, as it were, to the holy exercise — that it is when God, by giving him an affecting sense of his guilty and helpless condition, hedges him in to the attitude of devotion, he can with most propriety and with fondest hope beseech him for deliverance from it — that as his need of pardon, and sanctification, and all other spiritual bless ings, is both urgent and certain, he would be acting foolishly if he did not supplicate these as often as God's providence calls him, and as often as God's Spirit stirs him up to seek them — that life is short in reference to the great work of pre paration for eternity, and that he may be suddenly and unex pectedly withdrawn from the means and opportunities of carrying it on. And, therefore, he prays to God now, which is ' the accepted time' — now, which is ' the day of salvation ;1 and has it as one of his most ardent petitions, that the spirit of prayer may be kept alive in his soul, and that he may be made as desirous to obtain, as God is willing and able to be stow, ' mercy to pardon, and grace to help him in his times of need.' Are any of you, my friends, living in neglect of prayer? Then be assured that you are neither penitent nor pardoned. You must be sensible, if you know any thing at all of the subject, that of the real penitent, it cannot be more truly af firmed that he has repented than it may he said, ' Behold he prayeth.' The one necessarily leads to, and implies the other. All the discoveries that are made, all the feelings that are brought into operation, and all the grace that is experien ced throughout the process of the sinner's repentance, and throughout the life by which that change is succeeded, do plainly and irresistibly dictate the necessity of supplication. And, indeed, one of the very sins of which he has to repent, and one consequently which he must be understood to forsake, is the neglect of this great duty. So that it is quite impossi ble that the repentance which is ' unto salvation' can have taken place, if it has not been accompanied with prayer. And yet you do not pray ! You never went to the throne of grace ; or if you did, you grew weary of the exercise, and have ceased in a great measure, or altogether to engage in it ! And with all this you flatter yourselves that you have repented, and that you may appropriate to yourselves the blessedness of those whose transgression is forgiven ! What inconsistency ! What presumption ! What self-deception is there here ! No, my friends, repentance and neglect of prayer are quite incompati ble. Repentance is not more evidenced to the world around him by the sanctified life of the penitent, than it is evidenced to his own mind by that recourse to prayer which it necessa rily prompts, and which in its turn is requisite for the full ac complishment of his return to God and to the way of salvation. He only is the true penitent — he only is the pardoned peni- LECTURES ON PORTIONS OF THE PSALMS. 143 m tent^-he only is the godly penitent — whose moral change is attended with, and helped onward by supplication and prayer ; who sees in God alone his refuge and his help ; and who, ac cording to God's appointment, and in the way of his appoint ment, applies to him for every thing that he needs. This is characteristic of the people of God ; and it is on this account that we can speak of them as blessed beyond all that careless and indevout and unconverted sinners can either experience or conceive. VI. This leads us to say a few things on the last particu lar which we proposed to consider, namely, the security of God's people in the midst of danger and distress. ' Surely, in the floods of great waters, they shall not come nigh him. Thou art my hiding place ; thou shalt preserve me from trou ble; thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance.' This language does not intimate that God's people are to be exempted from trials and sufferings. On the contrary, it supposes them to be actually involved in these, as well as at all times liable to them. And, indeed, the history both of the Old and the New Testament church, not to speak of our own observation and experience, may satisfy us that though they have a happiness which others know nothing of, and cannot appreciate till they feel it, they are exposed to all the ordinary calamities which afflict the lot of man — that they are often visited with bereavements and sorrows from which the men of the world escape — and that they have spiritual troubles which are peculiar to themselves, and which are fre quently far severer and more difficult to endure than the worst of outward distresses. But herein is their grand distinction, that they are supported, and guarded, and saved by Him who has ail things under his sovereign control, and who says of his people, ' He that touches them, touches- the apple of mine eye.' They must pass through a wilderness, indeed, where diffi culties beset them, where dangers threaten them, where pri vations visit them, where malevolence pursues them. And in many respects it is more a wilderness to therii than it is to those who are yet ' far from God, and far from righteousness.' There is one consideration, however, which takes away from it, in their case, all that can render it gloomy or formidable to such as have to traverse its rugged paths. They are the ob jects of God's love, and from his love, which must constitute the safety and the happiness of every creature that is privi leged to enjoy it, nothing that can possibly happen, whether of good or evil, is able for one moment to'separatethem. They enter the wilderness, blessed with the enjoyment and the as surance of his pardoning mercy, and warranted to look to him as their reconciled friend. They travel on under his unerring guidance and almighty protection. And beyond it lies the land of promise, into which he will ere long introduce them, and for the felicity of which the toils and troubles of their pilgrimage will be overruled to prepare them. 'The floods of great waters' may surround the Cliristian, and to the eye of unthinking men, and in the apprehensions of his own timid mind, they may be about to overwhelm him. But his God says to them ' Hitherto shall ye come, but no farther ;' and he reposes on that love which 'many waters cannot quench, and which the floods cannot drown.' God is his | hiding place' which he may flee to, when perils menace him, into which his most powerful enemies cannot follow him, and where he is as secure from harm as omnipotence can make him. God 'preserves him from trouble ;' saves him from every disappointment, and from every pain that would injure his essential interests ; blunts the edge of such afflictions as are allowed to befal him, by imparting help and consolation along with them ; and converts them into blessings, by mak ing them subservient to his present improvement, and his everlasting happiness. And even when he seems ready to fall a prey to the adversities which come upon him, when all things wear the aspect of hostility, and conspire to accom plish his ruin, and when escape appears to be hopeless and impossible, even then God magnifies his grace and his might by ' compassing him about with songs of deliverance,'— not only delivering him, but making the deliverance so manifest to him as to impress him with the sense of his divine inter position, and to fill his heart with gratitude, and his mouth with praise. - But though 'even here— in this worid of sin and sorrow- which looks as if it were no resting place for the Zionward traveller, as if it had nothing for him but trials and tempta tions and distresses, and as if it would destroy him before he reached the place of his ultimate destination ; though even here he is so much the object of God's providential care and upholding grace, that he is always safe, and can employ the triumphant strains of David on another occasion, ' The Lord is my light and my salvation ; whom shall I fear ? the Lord is the strength of my life, of whom shall Ibe afraid?' — yet it is in heaven that he expects, and it is to heaven that he looks forward, for that complete deliverance from his troubles which is necessary to his perfect blessedness, and which he has been taught to regard as the sure and final portion of every one that is pardoned and reconciled to God, And what are all the blessings that he can be called on to endure in this scene of trial — what all the violence of all his enemies — what all the hardships, and privations, and anguish that can be at tached to his mortal fate — when compared with the great and glorious ' redemption that draweth nigh' — by which he shall be rescued at once from all sin, and from all misery — by which he shall be introduced into a world where no enemy can reach him, and where no tempter can harass him, and where no evil can befal him, ahd where, in a sense in which he could never use it, and with a joy which could never animate him here, he will take up the song of deliverance, and say in the company of the redeemed on high, ' Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his father, to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever !' 1 trust my friends, that such is the experience felt, and that such are the anticipations cherished by many of those now hearing me. The passage that we have been considering ex presses the sense of safety and the hope of deliverance with which the Psalmist was favoured. Then he was in the midst of troubles from which he could not extricate himself, and by which, but for divine help, he must have been utterly destroyed. It expresses what was felt by all the ancient worthies both of the Old and New Testament church, when in the Providence of God, they were placed in similar circumstances of danger and distress. I trust it is no mean recommendation of it when I tell you that it was a chosen portion of Scripture with our forefathers, who, when persecuted for conscience sake, and hunted like partridges on the mountains, because they would not bend their necks to the yoke of bondage, often made the sequestered glen and the barren rock echo to their voice as they lifted it up to God in this appropriate and pa thetic psalm, and in the notes of their favourite and heart- j touching melodies, conveyed to his listening ear, the sorrows ! which oppressed, the consolations which supported, and the hopes which cheered them. And well will it be for you, if in every season of calamity you can cherish that confidence in the mercy of God, and count upon that saving power of his which have been the distinction, and the comfort, and the rejoicing of his saints in every period of his church — which will continue to distinguish and uphold them in all future generations — and which will have their issue in the purity, and bliss, and glory of his unsuffering kingdom. LECTURE VIII. Judge me, 0 God, and plead my cause against an ungodly nation : O deliver me from the deceitful and unjust man. For thou art the God of my strength .- why dost thou cast me off? why go I mourning because of the oppression of ihe enemy? 0 send out thy light and thy truth: let them lead me, let them bring me unto thy holy hill, and to thy tabernacles. Then will I go unto the altar of God, unto God my exceeding joy ¦¦ yea, upon the harp will I praise thee, 0 God, my God. Why art tliou_ cast down, 0 my soul ? and why art thou disquieted within me ? hope in God; for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God. — Psalm xlm. It is evident, from the tenor of this Psalm, that David was in great difficulty and distress when he wrote it. He speaks of ' an ungodly nation' against whom he required help — of ' the deceitful and unjust man,' from whom he needed to be de livered — of ' the oppression of the enemy' that caused him to go mourning. We should find it difficult, and perhaps might find it impossible to ascertain, with any degree of certainty, the precise circumstance to which he alludes ; but that is no bar to our understanding the general import of the passage, and to our deriving from it those salutary lessons which it is doubtless intended to teach us. We are liable to afflictions similar to those with which the Psalmist was visited, and 144 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. when thus afflicted, we cannot do better than look. to the manner in which he expressed and conducted himself on such trying occasions, that we may leam how to suffer, and how to apply for consolation and deliverance. You will observe, my friends, that at the very outset, and all along, his views are directed to heaven. He had set his heart upon God : in him he had placed his trust, and from him he expected all necessary aid. This was the habit ual feeling and exercise of his mind. And whenever any peculiar exigency occurred, he had immediate recourse to that Great Being in whom he had been taught and accustomed to hope. It was not to himself — it was not to his friends — it was not to any mere created refuge that he applied ; it was to God in whom there is all that is good, and mighty, and faith ful, and wise; who has every object and every event under his supreme control ; and who has promised that he will be with his people in all their times of trouble and of danger. Thus it was with the Psalmist ; and thus will it be with all of us who are truly devout. We will cherish a constant dependance upon God. It is to his providence and grace that we will look amidst all the vicissitudes of life. And, as in our seasons of prosperity we will ascribe to him the bless ings that we enjoy, so in our seasons of perplexity and dis tress it is upon him that we will cast ourselves for guidance and comfort. The ordinary means of obtaining these we will carefully employ, whether they are to be found in our own personal efforts, or in the assistance of our fellow-men, or in the circumstances by which we are surrounded. We will carefully employ these means, because they are divinely appointed, and because we cannot succeed in procuring what we wish for without them. But still we will confide in the blessing of God for rendering them effectual. We will seek for our solace, and our encouragement, and our support in his promised grace and almighty power. We will lift up our souls to Him in prayer and faith. And from our know ledge of his character, our belief in his word, and our experi ence of his mercy, we will lean upon him as our stay, and rejoice in him as our salvation. One reason why we are so much borne down by our adver sities, is our thinking too little of the divine administration, — giving too much attention to secondary causes, — regarding the arrangements of our lot too much in a state of separation from the unseen hand which regulates them, — and viewing every thing that befals us rather in the effects which it pro duces upon our present feelings than in the purposes in which it originates, and in its final and permanent results on our most important interests. O, if we could only bring our selves to see the finger of God in all that happens to us, — to believe, that whoever persecutes us, and whatever annoys us, He is our never-failing friend, — to remember that he calls upon us to place unlimited confidence in his government of the world, and in his dealings with his people, — and to build our hopes of his unceasing protection and care upon that strong foundation which he has laid for them in the gospel of his Son — if we could but bring ourselves to do this, we should less frequently repine and despond under the pressure of calamity; we should assume a loftier tone, and experi ence a more undisturbed serenity amidst the disappointments and vexations of life ; and all the hardships to which the malice of our bitterest foes could subject us, would only make us cling closer to that arm which is 'mighty to save,' and drink deeper into those streams of life and consolation which flow from the throne of a reconciled God. We may not, my friends, have to sustain the assaults of such enemies as those with whom the Psalmist had to struggle. But still we cannot expect to be exempted alto gether from tribulation ; and sometimes it may come upon us in its most aggravated form. There are ungodly men who, being destitute of religious principle, will not scruple to in jure us, when they can thereby gratify their passions or advance their worldly interests. There are deceitful men, who will put on the garb of friendship, and acquire our con fidence and esteem, and then treacherously cheat us out of our property, or our reputation, or our peace. There are unjust men, who, by fraud or by violence would rob us of our dearest rights and most valuable possessions, and not only reduce our powers and opportunities of doing good, but even diminish our means of comfortable subsistence. And there are oppressors who, taking advantage of our weakness or dependence, and trampling alike on the maxims of equity and humanity, may exact from us unreasonable services, im pose upon us heavy burdens and cruel restraints, and ply us with insults, and harassments, and deprivations, from which we can make no escape, and for which we can find no redress, And what does it become us to do when thus situated ? Shall we indulge in those resentful feelings which the inflic tion of such wrongs is calculated to awaken in our breasts ? No : that were to cherish an unbecoming spirit, and to add the demerit of sin to the evil of suffering. Shall we then give way to emotions of sorrow, and act as if our case were that of inevitable and hopeless misery ? No : while God reigns, our condition never can be such as to justify despajr. Or shall w*e be contented with using every exertion to vindi cate our character and maintain our privileges, and repel the aggressions that are made upon us 1 No : that would both prove insufficient to its purpose, and be unsuitable to what we know and believe concerning the operations of a superintend ing Providence, and the necessity of divine interposition. We know and believe that there is one who ' rules over the inhabitants ofthe earth, as well as the armies of heaven,'— that his sway is universal, perpetual, and incontrollable ; that infinite perfection adheres to every part of the dominion which he exercises— that all those who love and serve him, aTe the objects of his favour, and that his eye is ever upon them for good— that, far from beholding with indifference the severi ties which are practised upon them by wicked men, he then takes a more special and affectionate interest in their well- being— and that he speaks in these terms to them, when they are in circumstances of destitution and suffering, ' Call upon me in the day of trouble ; I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me.' And knowing and believing these things, we cannot but go to the throne of grace when our foes rise up against us, and while, in the spirit of love and of a sound mind, we employ every weapon of defence, and every means of safety with which God has entrusted us, it is at once our duty and our privilege to commit our ways to his guidance, and our fortunes to his management, and to say to him with the voice of earnest supplication, ' Judge me, O God, and plead my cause against an ungodly nation. O deliver me from the deceitful and unjust man: for thou art the God of my strength.' We apply to God as our Judge — not that he may decide upon our personal merits, and give us the award that is justly due to us ; for this were to court and to secure the punishment which our sins deserve. As guilty creatures we cast ourselves upon his mercy, and though we must look to him as ' setting his throne for judgment,' yet we look to him as appointing to that throne the Lord Jesus Christ in whom we have believed as our Saviour. But when we apply to him as our Judge in the sense in which the Psalmist uses that language, it is that he may judge between us and those who are inflicting upon us unmerited wrongs. And, therefore, in order that we may make such an application with propriety, with confidence, and with success, we must be previously satisfied that we are the injured party — that our adversaries, in vilifying or in mal treating us, are not merely resenting the mischief which we have done to them, — but that their cruelty is unprovoked, and their hatred without a cause. Were not this the case, were we chargeable with the same offences on account of which we complain of others, did their enmity to us proceed from our enmity to them, and had we indulged in the spirit or in the practice of a vindictive retaliation, our appeal to God in the character of Judge could only have the effect of involving our selves as well as our enemies in a sentence of condemnation, ahd of increasing our guilt by exhibiting our presumption. But if we suffer from the wanton malice or unprincipled self ishness of our fellow-men ; if we are innocent of what they allege against us as the ground of their hostility ; and still more, if that hostility has been created by our firm adherence to truth and duty, cr if it appears in the form of an ungrateful return for kindness that has been felt, and benefits that have been bestowed — then is it both safe and becoming in us to make our reference to God'sjudicial character ; and in doing so, we may rest assured, that having committed our cause to Him who is the Judge of all the earth, and who 'judges righteous judgment,' its determination will be such as to vin dicate our rights and secure our final welfare. We apply to God as our Advocate. ' Plead my cause,' says the Psalmist, ' against an ungodly nation.' Those who have not the fear of God before their eyes, may reproach us, and wound us, and despoil us ; and all our arguments and remon strances may be unavailing to the removal or the abatement of their malevolence ; and every effort that we make to waTd off the injuries with which they menace us, may only add to the bitterness of fieir malignity and to the activity of their evil speaking and their evil doing. But God condescends to take up our plea, and to urge it home upon them with an energy which we could not employ, and which they cannot re- LECTURES ON PORTIONS OF THE PSALMS. 145 feist, And we render a just homage to those high and gra cious attributes in which he has been pleased to reveal him self to us, as well as consult our own personal advantage, When we beseech him so to manage and defend our suit, as that our enemies shall not be permitted to succeed in their endeavours, or to triumph in their injustice. Thus praying to God, from the firm conviction that he can, we may also pray to him with the animating persuasion that he will* effec tually take our part against them that trouble us — that by the secret influences of his Spirit or the open demonstrations of his providence, he will convert their hearts, or stop their mouths, or arrest them in their career of mischief— that in his own way, and at his own time, but certainly and completely, he will bring the controversy to such an issue as to show that the foes of his people, though they may harass for a season cannot and shall not ultimately prosper. We apply to God as our Deliverer. ' O deliver me from the deceitful and unjust man.' Those wicked men into whose hands we have fallen, and who are attempting to make a prey of us, may overmatch us in cunning or in force; and if abandoned to our own resources, we may become the victims of their malicious designs, or their violent assaults. But God is made known to us as a Being on whom, in such perilous and helpless circumstances, we may place unsuspecting and cheerful reliance, for he is our strength ; he is strong in wis dom, strong in power, strong in all the perfections which can operate to rescue us from the grasp and machinations of our foes ; and these perfections he is pledged by his promises to put forth in our behalf. Whatever be the number, and the artifice, and the might of them that set themselves against us, this is our comfort, and this is our refuge, that ' the Lord God omnipotent reigneth ;' that his everlasting arm is underneath and round about us continually ; that we have free access to that throne on which he sits as the hearer of prayer ; and that if, from the midst of those perils into which unjust and de ceitful men have plunged us, we implore his merciful inter position, our supplications will prevail upon him to ' take to him his great power,' to scatter all our enemies, and to eman cipate us from all our fears. And truly, my friends, what need we more than that we should thus be privileged to confide in God as our Judge, our Advocate, and our Deliverer ? Yet the Psalmist who seems to have habitually looked up to God and trusted in him as sus taining these important characters, ventures, in a moment of forgetfulness and despondency, to utter this complaint, ' Why dost thou cast me off? Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?' And alas ! it is to be feared that the same discontent is felt, and the same impatience express ed, by not a few believers, in the season of severe and pro tracted calamity. All this is quite natural. If God is almighty to destroy or to subdue our enemies, it is difficult to perceive why they should be allowed to disturb our peace, or to injure our welfare, as if they were stronger than He wbo is for us ; and if, in spite of all our importunate intreaties for deliver ance, we are still exposed to their fiery assaults, our argument being strengthened by feeling, it is not wonderful that in our haste we should be betrayed into that querulous language which fell from the lips of David, when under the pressure of evils which he had long endured, and to which he saw no symptons of a speedy termination. But though all this be quite natural, it is both erroneous and sinful. It is erroneous because it implies that the present is a state of unqualified re tribution ; that, because God is possessed of infinite justice and power, he must, therefore, exercise them immediately, and to their full extent ; that when we are in danger or dis tress he cannot allow us to continue in it, consistently with his own revealed character or with our real welfare. And it is sinful, inasmuch as it is setting up our imperfect wisdom in opposition to the unerring wisdom of God, accusing him of violating his promises and abandoning his people, and dicta ting to him the time and the mannerof bestowingupon us those blessings of which we stand in need, and for which he has instructed us to pray. Being thus erroneous and sinful, let us avoid such conduct ; and if, on any occasion, we are like the Psalmist, betrayed into it, let us also like him, humbly impute it to a want of knowledge in our minds, and a want of grace in our hearts, and still let us apply to God in prayer as he did, that these wants may be supplied, and that we may be taught to see more clearly the rectitude of all his dealings with us, and enabled more submissively to acquiesce in all his dispensations, and more unreservedly to trust in his faithfulness and mercy. No sooner had David vented his unreasonable and unjusti fiable complaint than he poured out his soul in this appropri- Vol. II.— T ate supplication, ' O send out thy light and thy truth, let them lead me.' , Let such be the supplication of our souls when similarly situated. Let us ask God to lead us into correct views and correct feelings, respecting his moral administra tion. We are naturally ignorant of that subject; and even though we have been made acquainted with it by means of the written word, yet much imperfection still cleaves to all the information we have acquired, and the trials with which we are frequently visited, are apt to darken and perplex our un derstandings, when endeavouring to scan the divine procedure, and to reconcile what we experience of disappointment and of suffering with what we believe of the greatness and the good ness of that Being, under whose government these evils befal us. But though our knowledge were as extensive and accu rate on this point as we could desire it to be, still that attain ment would not be sufficient ; for amidst it all, there is a natural aversion to every thing which afflicts us with pain, or which frustrates our hopes, or which subjects us to the scorn and the enmity of our fellow-mortals ; and this aversion is so strong and so inveterate as to make us mutiny under such ca lamities, notwithstanding their constituting, in our system of belief, a part of God's ordinances concerning our lot. And, therefore, we need a two-fold communication from heaven to meet our necessities, and to ' guide our feet into the way of peace ;' and for these we must be careful to pray. We must pray that God would ' send forth his light ;'— that he would give us such bright and realising conceptions of those attri butes of his, which make him worthy to be ' the confidence of all the ends of the earth,' as that we shall see them operating in our seasons of adversity as well as in our seasons of pros perity, and shall recognise wisdom and mercy in those dis pensations which to the carnal and unenlightened eye, wear the aspect of nothing but capricious chance, or cruel and re lentless fate. And we must pray that he would ' send forth his truth ;' — that he would hold out to us such a strong and impressive manifestation of that feature of his character which tells us that he is unchangeably true to all the promises that he has ever made, that he would so carry home this pe culiar display of himself to our conviction and our experience, as that we should deem it at once irrational and undutiful to distrust him in any thing, and that in the gloomiest and most disheartening of his providences towards us, we may cling to his faithfulness ' as the anchor of our soul, both sure and sted- fast,' and cherish the unwavering, cheering, delightful con viction that the most formidable of our adversafies shall never prevail against us — that he will ' make their wrath to praise him' by making it subservient to the good of his people, while ' the remainder of that wrath he will restrain ;' — that he will finally and .wholly rescue us from whatever they have inflicted, and from whatever they may threaten — and that all that we are doomed to suffer from their malice will be over ruled by him for promoting our spiritual improvement and our future happiness. But while we beseech God so to illuminate our minds with a knowledge of his character, and so to impress them with a sense of his faithfulness, as that we may be led to a right mode of judging, and a right tone of feeling, respecting his care of us when we endure the buffetings and persecutions of ungodly men, we should also pray for these divine influences in reference to our engaging in the ordinances of religion. ' Let them bring me unto thy holy hill, and to thy tabernacles.' At all times, and in all circumstances, it is both a bounden duty, and a valuable privilege to wait upon God in the exer cises of his house. But from the nature of these exercises — from their tendency to instruct, and console, and encourage — it is more especially incumbent upon those to engage in them, who are in perplexity and distress by reason of the harsh and slanderous and injurious usuage which they receive from a world lying in wickedness. All who in such trying condi tions havehetaken themselves to the house of God, and de voutly mingled in its sacred occupations, can bear testimony to the comfort and the advantage which these are calculated to impart to the afflicted, but humble and sincere worshipper. He finds in them a support infinitely stronger, and a solace- ment infinitely sweeter than any that the mere worldling has ever found, when, visited by some sorrowful dispensation, he seeks for an assuagement to his grief, or a stay to his deject ed mind, in the secularities of a busy life, or in the amuse ments of a gay one. The prayers that he offers up in faith — the sympathies of his Christian brethren — his researches into the oracles of truth — his meditations on divine things — and the various topics to which his attention is directed — all are fitted to give him a more thorough apprehension of the divine character and government, to reconcile him more effect- 14G CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. ually to the painfulness of that discipline to which he is subjected, to awaken in him a spirit of more patient endurance and more heartfelt submission, to procure for him more abun dant supplies of that grace which is necessary to help him in his times of need, and to send him back to his scene of suf fering, better prepared to encounter it with fortitude, and to bear it with resignation. But, that we may thus profit by the services of the sanctu ary, we must preface them with prayer and supplication. We require, and therefor need no protector, and have no injury to fear. * We laid us down,- and we slept ; and we awoke";' but it was ' the Lord that sustained us.' It was the great ' shepherd of Israel who slumbereth not nor sleepeth' that watched over us ; that al lowed ' no evil to befal us, and no plague to come nigh our dwelling ;' that kept our vital functions in play while we were all unconscious and utterly helpless ; and that brought us in health and comfort to the light, and the duties, and the privi leges of another day. How many of our fellow creatures were there who, from poverty and misfortune, had no place on which to lay their aching head, and stretch their wearied limbs, while we were blessed with the sheltering roof and the bed of repose ! How many have been all night long tossing with agony, or languishing in sickness, while we have en joyed undisturbed and refreshing sleep ! How many have shut their eyes never to open them again on this world; while we have been permitted to continue in the land of living men, to rise in the full possession of all our faculties, and still to engage in our work of preparation for eternity. And is not all this to be ascribed to him who careth for us, even when we are incapable of remembering him ? And does it not call for our wann and unceasing gratitude ? And should it not be daily acknowledged in the language of devout and cordial thanksgiving ? Yes, my friends ; if we are sensible of the re lation in which we stand to God as our constant preserver, and if we feel as we ought to do under the experience of his minute and mighty guardianship, we will say with the Psalm ist on another occasion, ' My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, 0 Lord ; in the morning will I direct my prayer to thee, and will look up.' ' Every day that I rise I will bless thee, and I will praise thy name for ever and ever.' And if God is pleased to sustain us in our midnight slum bers, and give us the comforts of quiet and unbroken repose, even when the storm of adversity is raging around us, (which is probably what David here particularly alludes to,) still warmer then should be our gratitude, and still louder our song of praise. Staying ourselves upon his grace and power, and maintaining a good conscience towards him, we shall find that his loving kindness extends to all the circumstances of our lot, and neglects nothing which is conducive to our personal comfort, or our ultimate safety. And having seen what he has done for his suffering people in this respect, or, it may be, having realized it in our own case, let us give glory to him for his goodness in the time that is past, and continue to trust in him for all the time that is yet to come. ' Why should we be afraid often thousands of people that may set themselves against us round about ?' They are as nothing when they dare to contend with the Almighty, by assaulting and persecuting his servants. He will arise and take to him his great power, and save us out of their hands, and scatter them as chaff be fore the wind. He is able to ' smite all our enemies upon the cheek-bone,' so that they shall no longer be capable of harass ing us with those bitter reproaches, and cruel calumnies by which they have hitherto endeavoured to wound and to destroy us. He is able to 'break the teeth of the ungodly,' so that with all their rancorous hostility, and all their demonstrations of malice, they shall not have the power of inflicting upon us any severe or lasting mischief, or of carrying into effect one of all the schemes which they have laid for our ruin. He is not only able to do these things in our behalf, but he has often accomplished them in the history of his persecuted church. They are recorded ' for our learning, that we, through patience and comfort of the Scriptures, may have hope.' This hope, then, let us cherish amidst all the vicissitudes of our life, and even in the darkest hour of tribulation. What ever be the evils that we suffer, and whatever be the evils with which we are threatened, let this great truth be constant ly remembered, and firmly believed in, that ' salvation be- longeth unto the Lord.' He is mighty to save, let our ene mies be as formidable, and our circumstances as desperate as they may. It is his prerogative to save ; for there is salva tion in none other. It is his good pleasure to save ; 'judg ment is his strange work,' but he takes delight in the exercise of that mercy which rescues from the pressure of calamity, and from the jaws of death. And it is his promise to save ; he has assured lis that he will deliver them that put their trust in him out of all their troubles, and the fulfilment of this as surance is as certain as his faithfulness is unchangeable, and LECTURES ON PORTIONS OF THE PSALMS. 157 his strength omnipotent. Let us only be among the number of his people, and all will be well with us ; his blessing will be upon us, and his is a ' blessing which maketh rich, and addeth no sorrow.' Men may revile us, our spiritual foes may assail us, all external things may seem to be against us, and not one feature of our condition may indicate that there is any hope/or us ; but, being the people of God, justified by his grace, sanctified by his Spirit, and devoted to him in the af fections of our hearts, and in the obedience of our lives, we shall be the objects of his tender regard ; a regard which will increase in proportion to our necessities ; and being blessed of God, we shall be blessed indeed. 'All things shall be ours;' whether prosperity or adversity, joy or sorrow, life or death, things present or things to come. Every coming day will find us enjoying that ' peace of God which passeth understand ing,' and which depends not on the favour of men, or on the wealth of the world. And at whatever time it shall please our Heavenly Father to remove us, the blessedness which he gives upon earth will be exchanged for the blessedness which he gives in heaven ; and as'a gracious recompense for all out ser vices, and a happy termination to all our sorrows, we shall enter into the regions of immortality, and into the felicity of ' the just made perfect.' Epistles be taken for example. If it be taken up and read, as they often are, as an independent Writing, it will be found, to a very great degree, unintelligible. References will be found which cannot be explained, and assertions to the comprehen sion of which there is no key. And it may be read over many times without any distinct impression being made upon the mind, or any real information having been derived from it.' If the same writing be taken up again, after information has been obtained in regard to the writer, the circumstances under which it was written, the persons to whom it was addressed, the object and purpose for which it was written, it will ap pear like another production. Difficulties will be cleared up, dark passages will seem quite intelligible, and the epistle will give new information and light, as often as it is considered. I have seen a Bible-class astonished and delighted at the amount of knowledge in regard to one of St. Paul's epistles, which a mere reference to the circumstances contained in his history in the Acts was able to communicate. Such kind of in formation is here collected in a compact and convenient form, and I cannot but hope, that the publication of this work will be found a real service to the youthful readers of the Bible among our churches." NOTICES OF RECENT PUBLICATIONS. The Journal of two voyages along the coast of China, in 1831 and 1832; the first in a Chinese Junk; the second in the British ship Lord Amherst .- with notices of Siam, Corea, and the Loo-choo Islands ; and remarks on the policy, religion, &c. of China. By Charles Gulzlaff, New York -• John P. Haven, 1833. Pp.. 332, 12mo. The title indicates the nature of this volume and will awaken in many a desire to become acquainted with its con tents. The first Journal appeared sometime since in the Chinese Repository, a work published at Canton, and from thence was copied into many of the periodicals of our land The second is now for the first time offered to the public The author is a very remarkable man. He was born in Prus sia, and received a medical education. Seven years since, he devoted himself to a Missionary life in the East. Since that time, he has been abundant in labours and sufferings, and has been very successful too in the cause of his Master. He appears to possess a zeal and faith truly apostolic. It is de lightful to learn the fact, that the religious prospects of Chi na are brightening, that her millions are accessible through the medium of Tracts and the printed Word. Armed with these weapons, a few such men as Gutzlaff would soon effect won derful changes in the Celestial Empire. The Bible Companion, designed for the assistance of Bible classes- families, and young students of the Scriptures, illustrated with maps and engravings. From the last London edition. Re- vised and adapted to the present times, with an Introduction by Stephen H. Tyng, D.D., Rector of St. Paul's Church, Philadelphia. Edward C. Mielke, 1833. Pp. 149, 18mo, The increasing study of the Holy Scriptures is one of the most interesting facts the age presents. The publication of all books tending to facilitate this, ought to be cordially wel corned and sustained. The work before us is one of this de scription. It contains in a small space the information that is necessary to a profitable study of the Bible, and will prove pe culiarly acceptable to those whose limited means and circum stances preclude the possession and study of larger works. Its chief value consists in tbe analysis which is presented of each book of scripture. On this subject Dr. Tyng justly re marks, " it is amazing to an unpractised student, what degree of light is thrown upon the doctrinal statements, as well as the historical references found in them, by a previous consid eration Of the scope and design of the work. Let one of the Memoir ofthe Rev. George Harder, autlwr ofthe " Village Ser-' mons," and Secretary of the London Missionary Society. By Henry Foster Burder, D.D. New York : Jonathan Leavitt. Boston .- Crocker and Brewster, 1833. Pp. 381, 12mo. The subject of this memoir was one ofthe most useful men of the age. He was born in London in 1752. He began his ministry among the Methodists, but did not long remain in connexion with them, at the age of twenty-six, he was ordain ed to the pastoral office and settled over an independent church at Lancaster. Five years afterwards he removed to Coventry. Here he laboured with great faithfulness for twenty years, when he was called to London as secretary of the Missionary Society and -editor of the Evangelical Magazine. He also took the pastoral charge of the church in which he was bom and baptized. Here he laboured incessantly until his death in 1832. His principal publications, beside his contributions to the Evangelical Magazine are, "Early Piety," a book for children — his " Closet Companion," " Village Sermons," " Cottage Sermons," and " Sermons for the Aged." He also published- " A Series of Observations on the Pilgrim's Pro gress," and an abridgment of " Owen on the Spirit." His " Village Sermons" have probably had a wider circulation than any other in the language. The life of so useful and distinguished a man cannot but be interesting. Though the volume before us dogs not contain much of striking incident, yet in his diary and letters there is that amiable simplicity of character, ardent piety and sound ness of judgment manifested, that will richly reward the reader for a careful, and- indeed repeated perusal. Polynesian Researches, during a residence of nearly eight years in the Society and Sandwich Islands. By William Ellis. From the latest London Edition. In four volumes 12mo. New York: J. & J. Harper, 1833. The first English edition of this work appeared in 1821. It has since passed through several editions, and is now for the first time offered to the American public. The author was for eight years a Missionary at Tahiti. From his daily journal, from printed and manuscript documents in the pos session ofthe London Missionary, Society, and from the com munications of various Missionaries, the materials for these volumes have been drawn. They contain a brief but satis factory history of the origin, progress, and results of the Missionary enterprise, which, during the last thirty years, 158 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. has transformed the barbarous, cruel, indolent, and idolatrous inhabitants of Tahiti, and the neighbouring islands, into a comparatively civilized, humane, industrious, and Christian people. They also comprise a record of the measures pur sued by the native governments, in changing ,the social economy of the people, and regulating their social intercourse with foreigners, in the promulgation of a new civil code (a translation of which is given,) the establishments of courts of justice, and the introduction of trial by jury. Besides in formation on those points, they furnish an account of the in tellectual culture, Christian experience, and general conduct of the converts ; the proceeding of the Missionaries in the several departments of their duty ; the administration of the ordinances of Christianity; the establishment of the first churches, with their order and discipline ; the advancement of education ; the introduction of arts ; the improvement in morals ; and the progress of civilization. Scenes in our Parish. By a Country Parson's Daughter. First and second series. New York: Published by Harper £-? Brothers, 1833. Pp. 260,.12»io. This will be a very popular book among the serious lovers of amusing literature. We are disposed to believe the anony mous author when she tells us that she is a country parson's daughter, and that the scenes she describes are from real life. She evinces great vivacity of mind, a fine susceptibility to the beauties of nature, a heart to feel for the sufferings of her race, and a desire to promote their highest interests. She has, too, a delicate sense of the ludicrous, and what is re markable for one who has so much poetry about her, a goodly showing of strong common sense. Better than all, a vein of apparently sincere and genuine piety runs through the book. She is quite too discussive in her habits, and deals too much in descriptions of flowers and natural scenery. The style is in the main, chaste and unaffected, and there are not infrequent passages of beautiful simplicity. The. author has an almost hysterical horror of " reform," and her solicitude for the fate of the establishment, and that ofthe world which she seems to think dependant thereon, is sometimes amusing. Exposition of Psalm CXIX. as Illustrative ofthe Character and Exercises of Christian Experience. By the Rev. Charles Brid ges, M. A. Vicar of Old Newton, Suffolk. First American from the'jixth London edition. Philadelphia, George Latimer & Co. 1833. Pp. 360, 12mo. Mr. Bridges is one ofthe most spiritual and popular writers of which the establishment can boast. His work on the " Christian Ministry," has been widely diffused and highly appreciated, and the exposition has passed through six edi tions in three years— a fact alike creditable to the author, and to the church which thus evinces an increasing demand for sound evangelical truth. The writer informs us that this Psalm was selected in consequence of its peculiar adaptation to Christian experience, that his main design in its study was to furnish his own mind with a correct standard of evangeli cal sincerity in the habitual scrutiny of his own heart and to assist others in that important duty. The composition ofthe work is diversified with as much variety as the nature of the subject will allow. The descriptive character ofthe book will be found to be interspersed with matter of discussion, per sonal address, hints for self-inquiry, and occasional supplica tion, with the earnest endeavour to cast the mind into that me ditative, self-scrutinizing, devotional frame, in which the new creature is strengthened, and increases and goes on to per fection. A PORTRAITURE MODEEN SCEPTICISM; A CAVEAT AGAINST INFIDELITY : INCLUDING A BRIEF STATEMENT OF THE EVIDENCES OF REVEALED TRUTH, AND A DEFENCE OF THE CANON AND OF INSPIRATION. INTENDED A3 A PRESENT FOB THE YOUNG. BY JOHN MORISON, D. D. AUTHOR OF " AN EXPOSITION OF THE BOOK OF PSALMS," ETC. PREFACE. As the forms of infidelity are constantly changing, it becomes the duty of all good men to watch its versatile move ments, and to endeavour, according to their several abilities. to counteract its subtle and pernicious influence. Standing, as we now do, in the full blaze of secular knowledge, there is the utmost danger, through the depravity of our fallen nature, of our preferring the wisdom of man to the wisdom of God ; and if the advocates of revealed truth do not rush into the field of conflict with the enemies of human happiness, there is reason to fear that scepticism will obtain a partial and momentary triumph : — I say partial and momentary, for the truth of Heaven must ultimately prevail, and every power that would silence the voice of " the living oracles" must at last be crushed by the omnipotent energy ofthe Son of God I am not afraid for the ark of the Lord ; but I regard it as a solemn duty to contribute my aid, however humble, to the defence of revealed truth ; and particularly to make my appeal to that portion of my fellow men who, either from mental tendency, or association in life, are peculiarly exposed to the desolating and pernicious onset of sceptical opinions. I am aware there is nothing novel or peculiar in the treatise which I now place on the altar of the public ; but I am fully satisfied that the position I have taken is sure, and that the sternest or the most insiduous infidelity has no honest argu ment to oppose to the conclusions I have ventured, with unhesitating confidence, to draw. I have written with the decision which becomes him who feels he has truth, and the truth of Heaven, on his side ; and I beseech no man, who . deigns to examine what I have said, to indulge a sneer, while conscience tells him that he should offer up a prayer to " the Father of lights" for wisdom to guide his devious course, and, above all, to rectify his wayward and erring heart. If there be any thing requiring distinct specification in the plan of the following work, it is the order pursued in laying down the series of evidence in support ofthe claims of Reve lation. Whether right or wrong, I have wrought my way from the interior to the outworks ; and have made my first attack on the citadel of the heart, by endeavouring to point out the adaptations of Christianity to the known and admitted condition of human nature. In doing so, I flatter myself that I have pursued a simpler and more natural course than those writers upon the same important subject who have placed an almost exclusive dependence upon external evidence. At the same time, I have not dared to overlook any part of that proof which shows the Bible to be the word of God. In the views I have ventured to express, in reference to the momentous subject of Inspiration, 1 am fully aware that I have exposed myself to the criticisms of some of my friends, eminent for their piety and their biblical erudition. But this I cannot help. I have gone where truth led me ; and I verily believe, in the fullest sense, that the Scriptures are — The Word of God. Should any respectable individual, giving his name, do me the honour to controvert my views of verbal nspiration, I shall, if spared, endeavour to reply to his ani madversions. But I will not allow myself to be dragged into the field of controversy by any one who treats this awful sub ject with irreverence. May all my readers be taught of God! 160 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. PART FIRST. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. "There is no fear of God before their eyes:" — Such is the coucluding sentence of a description which strips fallen humanity of all its boasted excellence; which shows, by a most convincing train of reasoning, that Jews and Gentiles are alike guilty before God ; and which pictures, in vivid colours, the awful depravity into which men sink without the intervention and the vital reception ofthe Gospel of peace. As the whole race are involved in one common apostacy, there is only one remedy that meets their case, and that remedy is Christianity. Wherever this divine catbolicon is embraced, it ultimately effects the cure of man's moral distempers ; it purifies his conscience from guilt, by an application of " the blood of sprinkling ;" it purifies his heart by the operation of a living faith ; and it purifies his life by the all-subduing influence of motives which animate him with the love of God, and with the quenchless desire of being conformed to his moral image Wherever Christianity is rejected, man remains the victim of apostacy, the child of wrath, the sport of evil passions, and, in the truest sense, " without God, and without hope in the world." Whether we survey a state of pure heathenism, or contemplate a condition of society in which Christianity is rejected as a fable, we behold, in either case, a soil fertile in every species of wickedness that can insult the'divine Majesty, or that can degrade and brutalize the human race. Could we conceive of a community wholly made up of men denying Revelation, and wholly imbued with.the principles and feelings of modern deism, we should have presented be fore our minds a scene of moral turpitude and guilt, too fear ful to admit of minute examination. In such a community, we should see every social tie dissolved, every virtuous obli gation trampled upon, and all the savage passions of the human heart brought into resistless and destructive play. In the creed of an infidel there is nothing whatever to deter him from the basest actions, provided he can screen himself from the eye of public justice, and from the scorn and derision of his fellow men. He is a man altogether without principle, who denies the legitimate distinction between virtue and vice, who resolves all human motive into a principle of self-love, and who is an equal foe to the laws of Heaven, and to the wise and benevolent institutions of men. A powerful writer, and an acute observer ofmankind, has said, that " modern un believers are Deists in' theory, Pagans in inclination, and Atheists in practice."! They profess* indeed, to believe in one supreme and uncreated Intelligence, infinitely benevolent, and infinitely holy ; but they neither cultivate his benevo lence, nor imitate his purity ; and as it respects prayer, and praise, and the homage of devout worship, they are as scorn fully neglectful of them as if there were no God, and are prac tically in that state of total irreligion, which shows that verily "There is no fear of God before their eyes." Though they talk loudly of one God, and profess to pay him homage in the temple of nature, it is most clear that in escaping from the folly and absurdity of the " gods many and lords many" of the heathen, they have plunged themselves into a state of reckless scepticism and doubt, which leaves every perfection of the Deity undefined, Which utterly extinguishes his moral government, and which renders even the belief of his very ex istence a powerless and uninfluential admission. By the aid of Revelation, indeed, they have wrought their way out of the Pantheon ; but, standing in the full blaze of celestial discovery, they have set themselves to blaspheme "the only living and true God." Ungrateful return for that light which the God of mercy has shed upon their path, and which was never surely intended to heighten their guilt, or to accelerate their condemnation ! What, then, are we to understand by modern infidelity ? Not surely that infidelity is a new thing ; for since man lost the image of his God, he has, in all the periods of his event ful history, evinced a tendency to discredit his Maker, and even " when he knew him, not to glorify him as God." To provide, in some degree, against this tendency, and to pre serve the successive revelations of Heaven from being utterly lost, the Most High selected one family as the depositaries of his truth, and as the ministers of his mercy to the1 rest of mankind. It would be easy to show, by an induction of facts, that it was infidelity, in the days of old, which paved the way for the abominations of polytheism. Men first discredited and opposed the true oracles of Heaven, and then they set them selves to serve God in their own way, and to proscribe a re ligion and a worship for themselves ; and because ' they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient ; being filled with all unrighteousness, fornifica- tion, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness ; full of envy, murder, debate, deceit, malignity; whisperers, back-biters, haters of God, despiteful, proud, boasters, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents ; without understanding, cove nant breakers, without natural affection, implacable, unmer ciful ; who knowing the judgment of God, that they which commit such things are worthy of death, not only do the same, but have pleasure in them that do them." It was such infidelity as this, my esteemed reader, which prepared the minds of mankind for all the grossness and all the absurdity of heathenism ; it was such infidelity as this which obtained in Philistia, and Egypt, and Canaan ; it was such infidelity as this which called forth the stupendous energy of Omnipo tence, in confounding and terrifying those evil powers who contemned the name of Israel's God, and oppressed the chosen tribes; yea, it was such infidelity as this which prompted all the idolatries of the ancient church, who no sooner forgot the Lord their God, than they set themselves to worship the gods of the nations among whom they so journed. Infidelity is no new thing. It is a plant indigenous to the sinful heart of man; it has sprung up in every age ; it has more or less prevailed in every nation under the whole face of heaven ; it is the palpable exhibition of that secret and deep-rooted unbelief which is unwilling to accredit any com munication as divine that does not picture the Most High as a being altogether answering to the sinful imaginings of a depraved and apostate heart. By modern infidelity, then, we are simply to understand those new forms, and that new energy which scepticism has put on, in modern times, and more particularly since the era of the French revolution ; by which ithas mightily diffused itself among all ranks of society, and has produced a class of writers capable of making their appeal to each separate branch of the community. It is modern, because those who are yet in middle life can remember the baneful period when it be-ran to exert its giant strength, and when, with a fiend like daring, it aimed a deadly blow at the thrones of monarchs and at the altars of religion. We can remember all this, and ' we can trace in the bloody and impure and ruthless steps of infidelity, the hateful character which belongs to it. It is modern, for it has decked itself forth in a thousand novel as pects, — and at one time assuming the air of reason and phi losophy ; at another, appealing to the most vulgar prejudices of the human mind ; now weaving itself into the texture of history, and then clothing itself in the maxims of political wisdom ; in some instances, concealing itself beneath the witchery of a well-imagined tale; and, in others, polluting even the very streams of salvation, by infusing a portion of its deadly virulence into the theology ofthe age.* It is modern, for where, at any former period in the history of the world, did a thing so worthless and abominable put on such an imposing air, and give itself forth as an angel of mercy to the afflicted race ? Though it has taught men, that " adul tery must be practised if we would obtain the advantages of life; that female infidelity, when known, is a small thing; and, when unknown, nothing ;"f that " there is no merit or crime in intention ;"% that " the civil law is the sole founda tion of right and wrong, and that religion has no obligation but as enjoined by the magistrate ;"§ that " all the morality of our actions lies in the judgment we ourselves form of them ;"|| " that lewdness," in certain cases only, " resembles thirst in a dropsy, and inactivity in a lethargy ;"•*[ that virtue is " only the love of ourselves ;"** though these are the scandalous lessons which it has unblushingly taught mankind, yet is it loudly proclaimed as the only system calculated to model and perfect humanity; as the last and only refuge for the sorrow- * It may be fairly questioned, from the practices of all pagan coun tries, whether there be any people in a state of pure heathenism. Tradition seems every where to have spread some faintglimmer- jngs of celestial light. + Rev. Andrew Fuller. See his Works, vol. i. page 17. * In proof of this, see Professor Milman 's HiBtory of the Jews, and many other productions savouring ofthe Neological school. + Hume. $ Volney's law of Nature, § Hobbes. || Rousseau. 1 Lord Herbert, tbe father of English Deists. *" Lord Bolingbroke. ' A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. 161 ing, suffering, and unhappy children of men ! This it is which is to rescue them from all unworthy prejudices, which is to dissipate the mists of ages, which is to bring back the golden period of wisdom and reason, which is to convert the whole earth into a paradise, and which is to make men happy as angels under its mild and benignant sway ! ! There is no cant so disgusting as that of infidelity. Though most of its advocates have been libertines, though its footsteps may be traced in the blood which it has spilt, though it has trampled on all the laws of personal property and of individual right, tliough it pollutes and degrades wherever it touches, yet are its advocates ever and anon boasting of its sublime virtues, and its blessed achievements. One thing we may be quite sure of, that no one will listen to their vain and empty decla mations till he has lost a certain portion of self-esteem, and till he wants to find an excuse for his conduct in the laxness and uncertainty of his belief. Looking at both the literary and vulgar part of modern infidels, we are constrained to say of them, in the words ofthe great apostle, "There is no fear of God before their eyes." They enjoy a pleasure, it is allowed, in contemplating the productions of wisdom and power ; but as to holiness, it is foreign from their inquiries : a holy God does not appear to be suited to their wishes."* After tracing the conflicting views of modern infidels, in re ference to the proper standard of morality, the same powerful writer adds,—" It is worthy of notice that, amidst all the dis cordance of these writers, they agree in excluding the Divine Being from their theory of morals. They think after their manner ; but ' God is not in all their thoughts.' In compar ing the Christian doctrine of morality, the sum of which is love, with their atheistical jargon, one seems to hear the voice of the Almighty, saying, ' who is this that darkeneth counsel with words witbout knowledge ? Fear God, and keep his commandments; for this is the whole of man.' "j* CHAPTER I. The views which Infidels have entertained respecting the moral character of God. God cannot be duly feared, as the proper object of religious homage, where his moral, attributes and perfections are lost sight of. If we disconnect his wisdom and power from his holiness and goodness and justice, it is impossible to conceive of him with reverence, or to think of him with complacency. In the Christian Scriptures, God's natural attributes are inva riably represented as the ministers of his benevolence, integ rity, and faithfulness. They declare him to be " a God of truth, and without iniquity; just and right" in all his ways. They proclaim him to be " the Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering and abundant in goodness and in truth ; keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, trans gression, and sin, and yet by no means clearing the guilty." They describe him as " of purer eyes than to behold evil," and tell us that " he cannot look upon iniquity." They ex hibit him as " righteous in all his ways, and holy in all his works." They teach us, that he is "nota God that hath pleasure in wickedness, neither shall evil dwell with him." Such is the God of Revelation ; a Being infinitely wise and powerful indeed, but one, at the same time, " glorious in ho liness, fearful in praises, aud ever doing wonders ;" a Being before whom the highest orders of created intelligences pros trate themselves and exclaim, " Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts ; the whole earth is full of his glory." How unlike are these descriptions of the eternal and immu table God, to the vague, contradictory, and even wicked re presentations of infidelity. " We cannot," says Lord Boling- broke, " ascribe goodness and justice to God, according to our ideas of them, nor argue with any certainty about them;" and again, " it is absurd to deduce moral obligations from the moral attributes of God, or to pretend to imitate him in those attributes." The language held by Bolingbroke is common to the infidel school. The entire moral character of God is overlooked by them, unless when they talk of his mercy, which they always do in a manner totally inconsistent with the existence of any such thing as a moral government. Mercy displayed at the awful risk of prostrating the claims of im mutable holiness, can only be another name for injustice ; and can therefore have no affinity to that infinitely benevolent Being who, in all the distributions both of his goodness and mercy, acts in a manner worthy of himself, the source and pattern of all the rectitude and purity which exist throughout the universe. "The object," says a distinguished author, " ofthe Chris tian adoration is Jehovah, the God of Israel ; whose charac ter for holiness, justice, and goodness, is displayed in the doctrines and precepts of the gospel, in a more affecting light than by any of the preceding dispensations. But who or what is the god of deists ? It is true they have been shamed out of the polytheism of the heathens. They have reduced their thirty thousand deities into one, but what is his charac ter ? What attributes do they ascribe to him ? For any thing that appears in their writings, he is as far from the holy, the just, and the good, as those of their heathen predecessors. Vol. II.-V CHAPTER II. Though Infidels profess to hold the doctrine of the Divine Exis tence, yet they refuse or neglect all religious worship. In this feature of their character, they are more inconsist ent, and more irreligious too, than even pagan idolators themselves, who evince great zeal and make many sacrifices in the service of their dumb idols. One would imagine, that if there be one great first cause, the Creator and upholder of all things, the benignant source of all the happiness which creatures in any part of the universe enjoy; one would im agine, I say, that if such a Being exists, he is entitled to the devout and spiritual worship of all his intelligent creatures. Such is the dictate even of unassisted reason, as has been demonstrated by a reference to the rudest and most brutalized portions of the human race. How astounding then is the fact, that only in Christian countries can men be found deny ing the validity of stated worship to the Deity ; as if the only use to be made of Revelation were to employ it for the horrid purpose of obliterating all our natural feelings of re verence for his awful perfections ! In the inspired volume we learn that " God is a spirit, and that they who worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth." This sup poses the duty of worship, and prescribes the qualities by which it is to be distinguished.' The language of those who know the divine character, and who possess a right spirit, will ever be, " O come, let us sing unto the Lord ; let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation. Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving, and make a joy ful noise unto him with psalms. For the Lord is a great God, and a great King, above all gods. O come, let us wor ship and bow down, let us kneel before the Lord our Maker; for he is our God, and we are the people of his pasture, and the sheep of his hand." Men may boast as they please of their belief in one God, but if ther do him no actual homage, if they have no stated seasons and places of devotion, they are in a far worse condition than were those benighted Athe nians, whom Paul beheld prostrate at an altar dedicated to "the unknown God." It is the temper, the disposition of infidelity, no less than its preposterous creed, which dis tances it from the spirit of true worship. Devotion cannot grow in a soil on which the inexpressible levity of scepticism has cast its withering blight. Religious awe cannot be felt in a mind that has no sensible hold of God's moral perfec tions. Love to God, drawing the soul forth in repeated and habitual acts of grateful adoration, cannot dwell in a heart where worldly lusts and enmity against the moral govern ment of the Most High ar.e struggling for the mastery. The very same thing which led men of old to forsake the worship ofthe only living and true God, and to betake them selves to the abominations of idolatry, is that which banishes from every circle of infidels everything like the semblance of religious homage to the Deity. Is it demanded what this said thing is ? I reply, in the language of the Apostle, " they did not like to retain God in their knowledge." They lost all delight in his holy character, and hence they sought relief for their guilty feelings in the exercise of a religion which -"corresponded with the dictates of their own impure hearts. Deists are placed somewhat peculiarly. As they are found only where Revelation has either completely banished the * Fuller's Works, vol. i. p. 11. t Fuller's Works, vol. i. p. 27. 163 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. grossness of idolatry, or where, at least, it has shed its be nignant rays, they cannot for shame revel in the impurities of heathenism ; but as they take no delight whatever in the character of that one God whom they profess to adore, they live in the habitual and avowed neglect of his worship. The ancestors of paganism forsook his worship, "because they did not like to retain him in their thoughts ;" and for the same reason precisely infidelity has no temple, no altar, no sacrifice, no avowed", habitual, and well-defined worship to that glorious Being, from the near contemplation of whose character it shrinks with instinctive dislike and -dread. Could we see infidelity cultivating the spirit of prayer, laying aside its extreme and disgusting levity, and evincing an anxiety to arrive at the true knowledge of God, we should begin to hope on behalf of its unhappy victims ; but reckless as its advocates are of all devotion, and leaning as they do to their own understanding, and evincing an utter contempt for every thing sacred, we are compelled to look on them as in a condition peculiarly hopeless, and must say respecting them " There is no fear of God before their eyes." CHAPTER III. A brief survey ofthe character of that morality which Infidelity inculcates and displays. All who read the Bible attentively, whatever they may think of its divine origin, must be struck with the perfection of its moral precepts, and especially with the sublime and cogent reasons which it assigns for the performance of every duty which we owe both to God and man.* That monster of wickedness, Thomas Paine, whom no man that ever knew could trust, has said respecting the Bible — " I feel for the honour of my Creator in having such a book called after his name." He must surely have meant, that he felt for himself, when he discovered in the Bible, if he ever read it, such an array of holy and benevolent precepts upon which it had been his habitual practice, during a long life, to trample with proud disdain ! ( The morality of the Bible is not the morality of mere de corum, the garnishing of the outward man, the "making clean the outside of the cup and platter ;" it is the morality of principle ; it is the morality of right dispositions ; it is the morality of love to God and love to man. Infidelity says, "there is no merit or crime in intention;" but Christianity says, that hatred is murder, that secret lust is adultery, and that we must "love the Lord our God with all our heart, and strength, and mind, and our neighbour as ourselves." It prohibits the resentment of injuries, and urges the forgiveness of enemies. It tells us " tc weep with them that that weep, and rejoice with them that rejoice." It enforces every rela tive duty by an appeal to motives equally tender and sublime, and it demands a personal sanctity of manners, which admits of no reserve, and leaves room for the indulgence of no single habit of transgression. If infidelity were from above, it would bear the marks of its celestial origin. God must be holy ; and a religion suited to his intelligent creatures ought to carry with it some resem blance to his moral nature. Infidelity has no such resem blance in either theory or practice. In theory it is an apology for almost every crime that disgraces human nature ; and in the different codes of its advocates, every species of trans gression is either defended or palliated. And what it is in theory, it is yet more abundantly in practice. Its leading characters have been worthless beyond expression. What were Herbert, and Hobbes, and Shaftesbury, and Woolston, and Tindal, and Bolingbroke, but so many notorious hypo crites, who, for a piece of paltry self-interest, professed to love and reverence Christianity, while they were all the while insidiously endeavouring to lower its credit in the world ? In the long and gloomy catalogue of human delin quents, where shall we find two miscreants such as Roches ter and Wharton? They were indeed a reproach to oui common nature. Morgan's dishonest quotation of Scripture to serve a purpose, and his miserable cant in professing him self to be a Christian, notwithstanding his amazing zeal to subvert all the peculiarities of revealed religion, speak vol- * See the second part of this Treatise, chap- i- sect. 3. nines as to his notions of morality. Hume, the most dis honest and prejudiced of all historians,* died as a fool dieth, cracking vulgar jokes with some of his unhappy companions, j- Voltaire so little regarded truth, that, in speaking in his "Ignorant Philosopher" ofthe tolerative spirit ofthe ancient Romans, he observes, " they never persecuted a single phi losopher for his opinions from the time of Romulus till the popes got possession of their power." In this passage a veil is drawn over the massacre of thousands and tens of thousands of unoffending Christians. In like manner, this boasted friend of liberty and reason, when he describes the expatriation, or cruel death of one million of French Protest ants, speaks of them as " weak and obstinate men." As these Protestants, not being infidels, were stripped of all claim to philosophy, we suppose it was a small matter to murder such vulgar persons in cold blood ! We find this same champion of infidelity requesting his friend D'Alembertto tell for him a direct lie, by denying that he was the author of the " Philoso phical Dictionary." His friend told the lie for him ; and he has himself well described his own character in the following words :— " Monsieur Abbe, I must be read, no matter whether I am believed or not." Voltaire, after all his infidelity, being threatened by the authorities, died a Catholic. Rousseau was profligate and immoral from his youth up. " I have been a rogue," says he, " and am so still sometimes, for trifles which I had rather take than ask for." He abjured Protestantism and became Catholic ; "for which," says he, " in return, I was to receive subsistence ; but," he adds, " from this interested conversion, nothing remained but the remembrance of my having been both a dupe and an apostate." After this, settling at Geneva, and finding that there he was denied the rights of Christian citizens, he renounced popery and conformed to the religion of the state. The life of this wretched man was one continued and uninterrupted scene of hypocrisy, fornication, seduction, base intrigue, and, withal, constant violation of the rules of honesty. What he said of one of the events of horror which marked his career may be applied, with too much truth, to his whole history — " Guilty without remorse, I soon became so without measure." CHAPTER IV. The practical effects of Infidelity. It is no wonder surely that such a race of men should have prepared the minds of their disciples for deeds of unusual atrocity. In a neighbouring country, a fit theatre presented itself for the exhibition of infidelity in its own native colours. There gross superstition on the one hand, and arbitrary gov ernment on the other, led thousands virtuously to sigh for na tional deliverance. With loud professions of love of liberty and self-devoted patriotism, infidelity rushed into the field of conflict; but though she professed to be an angel of mercy, she soon proved herself to be but a fiend of perdition. There was no deed of horror which she did not perpetrate. Within her destructive sphere life and property ceased to have any value attached to them. The most virtuous citizens fell victims to her insatiable cruelty. Personal aggrandizement became the sole object of her ambition ; and, under the fair pretence of philosophy, of enlightened policy, and of regard to the public weal, a whole nation was laid in ruins, every public institution was plundered, the state was sunk in anarchy and confusion, deeds of blood too shocking to de scribe were perpetrated, and the church herself, already suf ficiently degraded, was made the organ of propagating blas phemies the most hideous against the God of heaven. "Infi- * How can the guardians of the rising generation still leave them to the guidance of such a sycophant in politics, and such a sceptic in religion ? t "Nothing but the most frivolous dissipation of thought can make even the inconsiderate forget the supreme importance of every thing which relates to the expectation of a future existence. Whilst the infidel mocks at the superstitions of the vulgar, insults over their credulous fears, their childish errors, or fantastic rites, it does not occur to him to observe that the most preposterous device by which the weakest devotee ever believed he was securing the happi ness of a future life, is more rational than unconcern about it. Upon this subject, nothing is so absurd as indifference ; no folly so con temptible as tlioughtlessness and levity." — See a work entitled " The Nature of the Proof of the Christian Religion, £r"c."byD- B- Baker, A- M-, p. 42- A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. 163 delity," observes a spirited and able chronicler of these events, "having got possession of the power ofthe state, every nervf was exerted to efface from the mind all ideas of religion and morality. The doctrine of the immortality ofthe soul, orafuture state of rewards and punishments, so essential to the preser vation of order in society, and to the prevention of crimes, was publicly ridiculed, and the people were taught to believe that death was an everlasting sleep. " They ordered the words ' Temple of Reason' to be inscrib ed on the churches, in contempt of the doctrine of revelation. Atheistical and licentious homilies were published in the churches, instead of the old service ; and a ludicrous imita tion of the Greek mythology exhibited under the title of ' The Religion of Reason.' Nay, they went so far as to dress up, with the most fantastic decorations, a common strumpet, whom they blasphemously styled ' The Goddess of Reason,' and who was carried to church on the shoulders of some jaco bins selected for the purpose, escorted by the national guards and the constituted authorities. When they got to the church, the strumpet was placed on the altar erected for the purpose, and harangued the people, who, in return, profess ed the deepest adoration of her, and sung the Carmagnole and other songs by way of worshipping her. This horrid .scene ; almost too horrible to relate ; was concluded by burning the prayer-book, confessional, and every thing appropriated to the use of public worship ; numbers, in the mean time, danced round the flames with every appearance of frantic and infernal mirth." I might also, notice the fiend-like malignity which was directed against the institution of the Sabbath, during the reign of terror in France, as if the sole design of that des perate faction was not only to efface all reverence for the Deity from the public mind, but also to destroy every memo rial of an intelligent creature's obligation to him, and every symbol of the existence of a moral government. Let revolutionary and infidel France teach mankind, by one great and effective lesson, what the enemies of Revelation can do to heighten the standard of national morals, and to render inviolable the persons and properties of men. With the page of their own infamous history before them, let sceptics of every school blush to talk of the benefits which their system is fitted to confer on the human race. And let them remem ber, that the grand reason why the prevalence of their princi ples has ever issued in the disruption of every social and moral tie, has been because there was " no fear of God before their eyes." CHAPTER V, A contrasted view of Infidelity and Christianity.* From such scenes as these, how delightful to turn to the pure, and mild, and benignant genius of Christianity ! Were her golden rule, " as ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them" the universal law of all the fami- * The Bishop of Calcutta, in his twenty-second lecture on the " Evidences of Christianity," has finely contrasted tbe character of Voltaire with that of the Hon. Robert Boyle. "Now contrast," says he, " with this character, any of the eminent Christians that adorned their own country and Europe about tbe same period. Take the Hon. Robert Boyle, of whom it is difficult to say whether his piety, as a Christian, or his fame, as a philosopher, was most remarkable. Consider the compass of his mind, the solidity of his judgment, the fertility of bis pen, the purity of his morals, the amiableness of his temper, his benificence to the poor and distressed, his uniform friendships, bis conscientious aim at truth in all his pursuits and determinations. At an early age he examined the question of the Christian religion to the bottom, on occasion of some distracting doubts which assaulted his mind. Confirmed in the truth of Christianity, his whole life was a comment on his sincer ity He was admitted to certain secret meetings before lie had reached mature years— but they were graced and enlightened asso ciations—for canvassing subjects of natural philosophy, at a time when the civil wars suspended all academical studies, and they led to the formation of one of the noblest establishments ot his coun try-* His disinterestedness and humility were such that he refused theprovostship of Eton, and the honours of apeerage.tbat be might de vote his talents and time and noble fortune to works ot public utility and benevolence. His uniform regard to truth made him the exam ple and admiration of his age. His tenderness of conscience led him to decline the most honourable officet in the scientific world. lies and nations under heaven, how would it change the face of society ! how would it stem the torrent of pride, ambition, and vain glory ! how would it cause wars, and rumours of wars, to cease to the very ends of the earth ! how would it unite the whole family of man in one common bond of brother- - hood ! how would it banish injustice, cruelty, oppression, and licentiousness from the earth ! In proportion as Christian principles have triumphed, in that same proportion immorality has disappeared, and all social virtues have been practised ; and when it is universal, which we are assured it will be, it will bring moral health along with it to all the dwellers upon earth. " Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity," said the. immortal Washington, "religion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that man claim the tribute of patriotism who should labour to subvert the great pillars of human happiness, those firmest props of men and citizens. The mere politician, equally with the pious man, ought to respect and to cherish them. A volume could not trace all their connexions with private and public felicity. Let it be simply asked, Where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obli gation desert the oaths which are the instruments of investi gation in the courts of justice? And let us with caution in dulge the supposition that morality can be maintained with out religion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of a peculiar structure, reason and experience both forbid us to expect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle."* In a happier age, fast approaching, Christianity will dic tate rules of right government ; it will establish equitable principles of national commerce ; it will teach kings and sen ates how to rule in wisdom and love ; it will remove the great barriers to national tranquillity and national prosperity out of the way, by constituting the "people all righteous," and set ting up the authority of God as the best possible support of laws which accord with his word. Infidelity can dream of no such renovation. Its past steps may be traced in blood and anarchy ; and the prospect which stretches before it is scarcely less appallingj It has no link whereby to bind man to man, because it severs man from his Maker. It is essentially heartless and cruel. It rules with out God, and would exclude him from his own world, and nothing awaits it but the exposure and infamy which must sooner or later overtake all systems of evil. because he doubted about the oaths prescribed, and his reverence for the glorious Creator induced him to pause whenever he pro nounced his name. From such a student we may expect the truth. From such a philosopher we receive, with unmixed pleasure, ' A Treatise of the high veneration -which men's intellect owes to God ;'* or a discourse ' On greatness of mind promoted by Christianity.' "f The same excellent author furnishes the following admirable con trasts : — " Contrast, in point of mere benevolence, the lives and deport ment of such an infidel as Rousseau, and such a Christian as Dodd ridge ; the one all pride, selfishness, fury, caprice, rage, gross sen suality — casting about firebrands and death — professing no rule of morals but his feelings, abusing the finest powers to the dissemina tion, not merely of objections against Christianity, but of the most licentious and profligate principles ; — Doddridge all purity, mild ness, meekness, and love, ardent in his good will to man, the friend and counsellor of the sorrowful ; regular, calm, consistent ; dis pensing peace and truth by his labours and by his writings ; living, not for himself, but for the common good, to which he sacrificed his health and even life. Or contrast such a man as Volney with Swartze. They both visit distant lands, — they are active and indefatigable in their pur suits,- — they acquire celebrity, and communicate respectively a certain impulse to their widened circles 5 but the one, jaundiced by infidelity, the sport of passion and caprice, lost to all argument and right feeling, comes home to diffuse the poison of unbelief, to be a misery to himself, the plague and disturber of his country, the dark calumniator of the Christian faith- The other remains far from his native land to preach the peaceful doctrine of the gospel on the shores of India ; he becomes the friend and brother of tliose whom he had never seen, and only heard of as fellow-creatures, — he diffu ses blessings for half'a century, — he insures the admiration of the heathen prince near whom he resides, — he becomes the mediator between contending tribes and nations, — be establishes a reputation for purity, integrity, disinterestedness, meekness, which compel all around to respect and love him, — he forms churches, — he instructs children, — he disperses the seeds of charity and truth, — he is the mo del of all the virtues he enjoins." Th? Royal Society. t President of the Royal Society. « Published in 1685. t Published in 1690. * Washington's Fare-well Address to the people of the United States. 164 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. O, what a world were this if all men were infidels ! Then, indeed, would they soon destroy themselves. Their vices would be such as to annihilate all the social sympathies, and to cause the various elements of society to rush together in wild confusion and ruin. What cause of congratulation is it, that infidelity, in its more direct forms, has so little power in this country to mould our national institutions ! No one who marks the zeal and malignity of our infidel press, can doubt, for a moment, what would be the fate of every honest and virtuous family, if in fidels could, by any means, acquire ascendancy. There is a great deal of secret and avowed infidelity in the land ; but, blessed be God, our property, our domestic peace, our national security are not as yet menaced by the impugners of Revela tion. It is at the same time a mournful consideration, that so many of the labouring classes of the community are vitiated by the wretched dogmas of this school. It is a distinct cha racteristic of modem infidelity, that it aims to subvert the hopes of the poor. The writings of Mr. Paine, combined with other circumstances, have led to this feature in its ma lignant history. The libertinism of sceptics, till ofiate years, was regarded as the exclusive privilege ofthe educated, the intellectual, and the distinguished portion ofmankind. Now it is far otherwise ; the pestilence has spread itself, and ope ratives, in every department of trade, are plied by the apos tles of infidelity, who, not content with destreying the poor man's hopes of immortality, set themselves to lower all his notions of moral obligation, to vitiate all his social habits, to foster in him the spirit of rebellion against all constituted authority, and thus, as it were, to deck their victim for the day of sacrifice. I firmly believe that in London alone, to say nothing of other large populations, there are thousands and tens of thousands lost to industry, to health, to reputa tion, and to peace, outcasts from society, and terrors to the community, who might trace the utter wreck of their charac ters to their association with companions of infidel senti ments, and to their familiarity with the infidel press. It has been my lot as a Christian minister, more than once, to con firm these affecting statements by the unequivocal avowals of infidels themselves, in the last periods of human existence, and also by witnessing in some, once promising characters, the baneful effects arising from the adoption of infidel opin ions. CHAPTER VI. An affectionate appeal to those who have been entangled in the snares of Infidelity. When I reflect how many there are whose faith in Christi anity has been shaken, and whose minds have fallen a prey to the wiles of scepticism ; and, moreover, when I call to re membrance that so many of the young and promising rank among the victims of this moral contagion, I cannot but feel an earnest desire to become an instrument of good to a por tion of my fellow-creatures, at once so interesting and so much exposed. O that God would strengthen me to speak a word to unhappy and deluded sceptics ! With all the zeal for their salvation that I can possibly give utterance to, would I make my appeal to their judgments and consciences. Let me bespeak their candour. I am conscious of no motive but a desire to honour God, and to save their souls. Regarding them as the victims of fatal error, I am devoutly anxious to see them extricated from it. Their creed I hold to be alike gloomy and pernicious, and I would show them a more ex cellent way, and would introduce them, with a bounding heart, into the light and liberty of Christianity. What, then, let me ask, has led you to reject Christianity ? Have you carefully examined it, and found its evidence de fective ? If so, where does the difficulty press ? If you are really perplexed, ask counsel of some enlightened Christian, and he will readily aid you in disposing of the doubts and misgivings of a mind really sincere. I believe a doubting man may be sincere. There are many volumes suited to your state, and which you might read with the greatest pos sible advantage. Let me particularly recommend to your at tentive perusal " The Gospel its own Witness," by the late Rev. Andrew Fuller ; " The Evidences of Christianity," by Dr. Paley ; " A Short Method with Deists," by Leslie ; Dr. Chalmers' works on "The Christian Revelation," and a work entitled "A Treatise on the Nature and Causes of Doubt in Religious Questions." But let me deal honestly with you, as your friend. Have you all this supposed difficulty about the evidence and the truth of Christianity? Or is your hesitancy of a very differ ent order? Do you feel a repugnance to the holy require ments of Christianity, and a consequent dread ofthe judgments which it threatens ? And does this prompt in you the bane ful wish, "O that it might not be true?" Remember what Rochester said — " A bad life is the only grand objection to this book;" laying his hand emphatically on the Bible. Has not this been very much the case with you ? You have fallen into sinful courses — you have yielded to the ways of the world — you have gone with a multitude to do evil — you have forsaken your better fellowships — you have learnt to spend your Sabbaths in pleasure, and you have gradually become more and more careless. In this state you have been very unhappy at times ; you have thought, well, " what ifj after all, the Bible be true ! What if, after all, the wicked shall be turned into hell !" At this juncture, some one further advanced in scepticism than yourself has aided you in shak ing off the galling yoke of conscience. He has put some infidel publication into your hand ; you have read it ; it has fallen in with your previous wishes and habits ; you have said, " This is the very thing I wanted ;" and you have, at last, learned to revile the Bible, to set light by its hopes, and to talk slanderously of its professors. Come now, my friend, and let us reason together. Look back on the process. Why did you so readily drink in the poison contained in the infidel volume ? Why ? because you were in a state of mind very much the opposite of that which the Bible demands. But what have you found, my friend-; in the regions of scepticism? You have relinquished the hopes of Christianity, by Christ Jesus. What have you ob tained in their place ? Amidst all your acquirements, have you found peace of mind ? Will your present character and your present religion sustain you in a dying hour ? Multi tudes of infidels have found their creed, at death, insufficient to meet the awful catastrophe. Not a single instance can be produced, in which a believer in Revelation was terrified or dismayed because he had been a Christian. Many have been distressed on account of the defective evidence of their Christianity, but none on account of their being Christians. Does it never occur to you, that if Christianity be true, you are undone ? — that if it be false, he who believes it can suffer no injury?* Who, let me ask -you, are your companions? What are your pursuits ? and what your hopes ? 1 deeply feel for you, while I greatly blame you. You may have been inadequately instructed ; you may have seen bad examples ; you may have witnessed great inconsistencies in some of the professors of religion. Granting, however, that all this may have been the case, still the interests of the soul are a personal concern. No man can stand in your place when you die. I beseech you, then, to arouse yourself from that lethargy into which sin and unbelief, acting and reacting, have conjointly sunk you. Ask yourself this question, " What makes me a sceptic ? Is it because I have examined for myself, and know the Gospel to be a fable ? or is it because that I desire it may be one ?" And why should you desire this ? If Christianity does not meet your case, no other system can. Infidelity has not met your case ; it has not awakened hope ; it has not allayed despair ; it has not ministered peace. No : it has only stu- pified a conscience which must yet awake; it has only taught you to put the evil day far away ; it has only blinded you for a time to the dread prospects of a future and impending eternity. Why, I ask again, should you wish that Christianity may not be true ? Is it because you feel yourself guilty, and shrink from the condemnation which it threatens ? Well might you thus shrink if it did not reveal a remedy, as well as disclose a disease and point out its consequences. You are guilty yea, ten thousand times more guilty than you ever imagined yourself to be ; but what I maintain is, that if you turn away the eye of faith from that great sacrifice which Christianity • " Indisputably," said Lord Byron, in a letter sent by him to the late Mrs. Sheppard, "the firm believers in the Gospel have a great advantage over all others, for this simple reason — that if true, 2iey will have their reward hereafter ; and if there be no hereafter, they can be but with the infidel in his eternal sleep, having had the assistance of an exalted hope through life, without subsequent dis appointment, since (at the worst, for them) ' out of nothing, nothing can arise,' — not even sorrow." A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. 165 reveals, you must sink for ever beneath the pressure of your guilt, and with this superadded horror, tliat you perished al? the threshold of mercy. Is it because you do not love the pure and holy demands of Christianity, that you turn away from it? Well, but is not this, its pure character, the proof of its celestial origin ? and if so, will it avail you to reject it? Will the holy life it requires be less obligatory because you determine not to pursue it? Will the great Judge excuse you at last because you loved your sins more than his revealed will ? Besides, what is to root out unholy inclinations, to correct depraved habits, to superinduce devotion, and to raise the soul to God ? Is it not divine meditation on the blessed word ? Here is that consecrated fountain which, by the grace of God, shall quench your thirst of sin. Here you may read of " the new heart" till you know by experience what it is. Here is a divine Deliverer, whose " name is called Jesus, because he saves his people from their sins." Here is a divine Sanctifier, who can " create within you a clean heart, and renew within you a right spirit." One word more, and I have done. Ask God to teach you. Ask him, if the Bible be from him, to enable you to come to the belief of it. Ask him to remove your blindness, to allay your prejudices, and, above all, to prevent any sinful habit from giving a bias. to your decision. Make no delay in this work. If you die a stranger to the hopes of Christianity, it had been better for you that you had never been born ! Sir Matthew Hale, the Hon. Robert Boyle, Bishop Butler, T)r. Watts, Mr. Wilberforce, Dr. Paley, Dr. Beattie, Dr. Chalmers, and Robert Hall ? Such a pretence, on the part of any infidel, would be equally fatal to his sense and candour. In grasp of mind, in depth of erudition, in diversity and ex tent of science, the pledged advocates of the gospel have had no rivals in the republic of letters, or in the ranks of scepti cism.* All who know any thing of the state of facts, must concede this point, that the sublimest exercise of reason is not incompatible with the most profound deference to the truth and excellence of Revelation. It is easy for some infidel de magogue to vaunt himself of his great wisdom and learning before an ignorant and vicious assembly ; but let the entire PART SECOND- THE TRUTH AND EXCELLENCE OF CHRIS TIANITY. CHAPTER I. The comparative credit due to the conclusions of Sceptics and Christians. "For we have not believed cunningly devised fables." Such, at least, is the Christian's estimate of the stability of his own hopes ; and such is the settled conviction of every sincere friend of revealed truth. When the moral character and habits of those who profess their Ijelief in Christianity is taken into account, there can be no hesitation in admitting that they are strictly honest in the avowal of their faith, and that they do not affect to repose on the truth of a system which, after all, they secretly disbelieve. That there are many false pretenders to the faith of Christ is readily con ceded ; but after the names of all such have been struck off from the list of its genuine friends, there will yet remain a multitude of hgnest men, far above all suspicion, who, in life, and at death, have professed their sincere and heart-felt belief in the religion of Jesus of Nazareth. To impugn their integrity, as men of veracity, would be alike absurd and un just. They are, beyond doubt, entitled to all credit for sin cerity, when, with the "Bible in their hands, they exclaim, " We have not followed cunningly devised fables." The great question then is, are they mistaken in the esti mate which they have formed of the Bible ? Are they under the influence of a delusion, though they fondly believe that they have embraced the truth of God ? In deciding such inquiries as these, several considerations naturally occur to the mind, irrespective even of the direct evidences of the Christian revelation. What, then, has been the amount of intellectual qualifica tion possessed by Christians for investigating the truth or falsehood of their hopes ? It may be true, indeed, that the mass of those who have embraced the gospel have been little ele vated, in point of mind, above any other equal portion ofthe human race ; although it cannot be denied, that in Christian countries the common people are much superior to their fel lows in heathen lands. But be this as it may, can any one affirm that among the list of Christian advocates there are not to be found multitudes of men in the highest degree qualified to decide upon any question of evidence submitted to their notice l Will it be pretended that imbecility of intellect pro duced the faith of such men as Sir Isaac Newton, John Locke, * The following eloquent passage, from a speech of the late Lord Erskine, delivered by him in the Court of King's Bench, on occa sion of a prosecution for the publication of Paine's "Age of Rea son," may not be unacceptable, as tending to illustrate the position, that superiority of intellect has been enlisted on the side of Chris tianity : — - "'It seems, gentlemen,' said his lordship, this is an age of reason ; and the time and the person are at last arrived, that are to dissipate the errors which have overspread the past generation of ignorance. The believers in Christianity are many, but it belongs to the few that are wise to correct their credulity. Belief is an act of reason, and superior reason may, therefore, dictate to the weak. "In running the mind along tbe list of sincere and devout Chris tians, I cannot help lamenting that Newton had not- lived to this day, to have had his shallowness filled up with the new flood of light. "But the subject is too awful for irony ; I will speak plainly and directly. Newton was a Christian ! — Newton, whose mind burst forth from the fetters cast by Nature upon our finite conceptions. New ton ! whose science was truth, and the foundation of whose know ledge of it was philosophy ; not those visionary and arrogant pre sumptions which too often usurp its name, but philosophy, resting upon the basis of mathematics, which, like figures, cannot lie. Newton, who carried the line and rule to the utmost barriers of the creation, and explored the principles by which, no doubt, all created matter is held together and exists. " But this extraordinary roan, in the mighty reach of his mind, overlooked, perhaps, the errors which a minuter investigation ofthe created things on this earth might have taught him of the essence of his Creator. " What, then, shall be said of the great Mr. Boyle, who looked into the organic structure of all matter, even to. the brute inanimate substances which the foot treads on ? Such a man may be supposed to have been equally qualified with Mr. Paine to ' look through Nature, up to Nature's God.' Yet, the result of all his contempla tion was, the most confirmed and devout belief of all which the other held in contempt, as despicable and drivelling superstition. "But this error might, perhaps, arise from a want of due atten tion to the foundations of human judgment, and the structure of that understanding which God has given us for the investigation of truth. Let that question be answered by Mr. Locke, who was, to the highest pitch of devotion and adoration, a Christian. Mr. Locke, whose office was to detect the errors of thinking, by going up to the fountains of thought, and to direct into the proper track ol reasoning the devious mind of man, by showing him its whole process, from the first perceptions of sense to the last conclusions of ratiocination; putting a rein, besides, upon false opinion, by practical rules for the conduct of human judgment. 'But these men were only deep thinkers, and lived in their closets, unaccustomed to the traffic of the world, and to the laws which practically regulate mankind ! " Gentlemen ! in the place where we now sit to administer the justice of this great country, above a century ago, the never-to-be- forgotten Sir Matthew Hale presided, — whose faith in Christianity is all exalted commentary upon its truth and reason, and whose life was a glorious example of its fruits in man, — administering human justice, with a wisdom and purity drawn from the pure fountain of the Christian dispensation, which has been, and will be in all ages, a subject of the highest reverence and admiration. " But it is said by the author, that the Christian fable is but tbe tale of the more ancient superstitions of the world, and may easily be detected by a proper understanding of the mythologies of the "Did JkEfton understand those mythologies? was he less versed than Mr Paine in the superstitions of the world? No! they were the subject of his immortal song ; and though shut out from all recurrence to them, he poured them forth from the stores of memo ry rich with all that man ever knew, and laid them in their order, as 'the illustration of that exalted faith, the unquestionable source of that fervid genius, which cast a shade upon all the other works of man The mysterious incarnation of our blessed Saviour (which this work blasphemes in words so wholly unfit for the mouth of a Cliristian or for the ear of a court of justice, that I dare not, and will not, give them utterance), Milton made the grand conclusion of the "Paradise Lost," — the rest from his finished labours, — and the ultimate hope, expectation, and glory of the world. " ' A virgin is His mother, but His jsire The Power ofthe Most High ; lie shall ascend The throne hereditary, and bound his reign With earth's wide bounds, His glory with the heavens." 166 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. history of the Christian era be appealed to as the proof, that the choicest spirits in each age, since the days of the apostles, have been the professed adherents of the gospel. Christianity, then, has not been subjected to the humiliation of being only embraced by the weak and ignorant of mankind ; it has called forth the plaudits of the greatest men that ever lived, and has done more by its own simple energy to augment the genius and to multiply the acquirements of the race, than all other systems of religion and other causes combined.* But I ask again, what have been the moral qualifications possessed by Christians to enable them to decide upon the validity of their own hopes ? Have they been men, in general, whose perceptions have been blunted and vitiated by an irre gular and profligate life ? or has riot the very reverse of this been the case ? If two persons of equal intellect, but of extremely different moral habits, the one devout, consistent, benevo lent ; and the other proud, self-important, devoted to pleasure, should set themselves to ascertain the truth or falsehood of any system assuming to he a revelation from God; which ofthe two parties might be expected to be the more success ful in the investigation, provided that the assumed revelation were genuine ? It cannot surely be denied that the advantages in favour ofthe man of correct moral feeling and habit would be immense. Nor can it be maintained by any one in pos session of sound reason, that a wrong state of mind and cha racter will not materially influence the decisions of the understanding, in reference to moral truth. Upon this prin ciple it is that we enter our earnest protest against the flimsy dogma of modern infidelity, that belief is, in all cases, a thing strictly involuntary. On the contrary, we submit, that in no case where belief is claimed on behalf of moral truth, can it be yielded in a state of mind fairly entitled to the appellation involuntary. That can never be involuntary which may either be prompted or retarded by the state of disposition. Nothing is more obvious than that men may blind tliemselves to the light of truth, and stumble, as in the dark, at noon-day. But who would say that that blindness is involuntary which is the result of a man's loving darkness rather than light, because bis deeds are evil ? Upon a full and impartial review of the moral character and habits of those who have truly embraced Christianity, we are disposed to abide by the conclusion, that their advantages for reaching truth have been astonishingly great. Compared with the leading advocates of Deism, they stand on a lofty emi nence, from which, with a vision unclouded by the mists of prejudice and crime, they can discern the moral beauty and loveliness of that fair land which opens to their view in' the territory of revealed truth. f If, then, the intellectual advantages of the Christian are fully equal to those of the infidel, and if his moral advantages are far superior, to what conclusion must such a fact conduct us ? Why, to this, that the Christian is much more likely to be right in embracing the gospel, than the sceptic is in reject ing it. His judgment is not less to be respected, and his dis positions and habits are more in accordance with the dictates of what even natural conscience and pure deism would pro nounce to be right. And do we on this account urge men to receive Christianity ? By no means. All we demand is, that they will give it a fair hearing, and that they will look on it with that respect which will'dispose them to weigh well its divine evidence, and not rashly to dash from their parched lips the cup of salvation. We ask not that men should believe because others have believed ; but that they would honestly inquire whether believers or sceptics are most worthy of imi tation ? The careful investigation of this question will gene rate a state cf mind favourable to the claims of revelation, and will prompt the reasonable desire that the gospel may be tme. I may here premise, that no man was ever in earnest to find out the truth of Christianity who did not make conscience of imploring God's direction and assistance in an inquiry upon which so much depends. If Christianity be not a reve lation from God, then has none ever been vouchsafed to the children of men ; and if none has ever been vouchsafed, then are the whole race sunk in darkness as to the character of God, and the destinies of futurity. If Christianity be a reve lation from God, then is it treason against Heaven to reject Sts evidence, or to set light by the remedy which it prescribes for our fallen and guilty nature. Under these circumstances, how necessary is it to ask of God that he would lead us, his erring children, into all truth, and that he would so far banish every unholy prejudice that our minds maybe open to receive whatever bears upon it the stamp of a celestial origin. It is a mournful fact that this spirit of devotion seems an utter stranger to almost all writers of the sceptical class. They boast of their deism, and neglect one of its first and simplest lessons, viz., the duty of an intelligent, but feeble and dependant creature seeking counsel of the great and mer ciful Being who formed him. CHAPTER II. Showing that the evidence of Christianity is of such a nature that it admits of being brought home individually, with con vincing power, to every man's bosom. * "If a map," observes the present Bishop of Chester, "could trace the real influence of the Gospel, it would also delineate the proportion of intelligence and active virtue. The measure of spi ritual knowledge is also the measure of barbarism and of civiliza tion, of mental stupidity, or mental illumination-' Fourth Edition, 12mo, pp. 427, 428. + "Religion cannot exist," Eaid Sir Walter Scott, "where im morality prevails, any more than a light can burn where the air is i-omipicd." — Life of Napoleon, vol. i. p. 54- -Evidences, It is never to be forgotten that those who are called to ex amine the divine pretensions of Christianity are the very per sons interested in its communications. To man it distinctly makes its appeal, and in him it proposes to effect that mighty renovation of which it speaks. Should it be true, then, to its own assumed character, it will undoubtedly verify its several claims in the personal consciousness of all its recipients. I choose to begin here, because I am satisfied that no man can sit down to investigate the truth of this Bible, who does not stand in need of light on the subjects of which it treats. Every man's conscience may suggest to him that he has of fended against God, that he has violated, in innumerable in stances, his own sense of right and wrong, and that there may be some fearful retribution awaiting transgressors in another and unknown state of existence. But whatever Reason may surmise on these subjects, she has no balm with which to soothe an .anguished conscience, no system of propitiation by which to relieve a guilty and foreboding mind, no mediator be tween the offended Majesty of Heaven and his erring creatures. It is Christianity alone which opens up a door of hope to an apostate race ; every thing besides is utter conjecture. Infi dels may boast of the composure and satisfaction they feel in contemplating the issues of the-present life ; but their exemp tion from anxious dread is but one instance out of many in which the voice of conscience is silenced by that spirit of ut ter and reckless scepticism, which on the one hand rejects a mass of well-authenticated evidence, and on the other profes ses firm belief and unshaken confidence in its own dogmas, without so much as a title of proof to support them. The man, then, who examines Christianity in a right spi rit, may expect to perceive, in its intimate bearing on his own case, that it is of God. If he is in that state of mind which is suitable to a rational creature anxious to know the will of God, he will find in Christianity what he c.an discover no where else. Is he conscious of sin? it reveals to him its true character, traces it to its source, and points to its consequen ces. Is he the subject of legitimate dread and apprehension in prospect of standing before an offended God? it tells him how his guilt maybe effectually removed, and how the peace of an accusing conscience may be restored. Is he oppressed whenever he "thinks of the divine purity, and contrasts it with a nature ever prone to evil? it proposes to subject him to a healing and remedial process, by which moral health is to be restored to his diseased soul, and by which he is to be taught to delight in God, and to aspire after his likeness. Is he mourn fully sensible of the fact, that " all is vanity and vexation of spirit," and that nothingunder the sun can satisfy the desires of a mind panting after immortality? it opens up to his view sources of never-ending delight, it brings him to the very fountain of all happiness, it shows him how his fondest ex pectations may be realized', it tells him how to delight in God, and how to draw near in acceptable worship to Him whom angels adore, and before whom the spirits of darkness flee in terror and dismay. It becomes every man who sets himself to the task of ex amining Christianity, to fix his attention on the following mo mentous inquiry: — "Is this professed revelation adapted to my actual necessities? to my fears and hopes? to the circum stances by which I am surrounded? and to the prospects If, upon minute inquiry, it is which stretch before me?' A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. 167 found to be thus adapted to our fallen state, it will surely carry along with it a striking demonstration of its divine origin ; and if, upon actual experiment, we find that the reception of Christianity allays our guilty feaTS, gives peace to our trou bled consciences, quenches the thirst of sin, inspires the hope of immortality, supplies motives for patient endurance, and sheds the lustre of moral loveliness and purity over the cha racter in whom it dwells, then may we assure ourselves of the source whence it sprung, and then may we enter, with a full heart, into the meaning of the beloved disciple when he says, " He that believeth on the Son of God hath the witness in himself."* " I think," said the good and great Richard Baxter, " that in the hearing and Teading of the Bible, God's spirit often so concurreth, as that the will itself should be touched with an internal gust and savour of the goodness contained in the doc- . trine, and at the same time the understanding with an internal irradiation, which breeds such a certain apprehension of the verity of it, as nature gives men of natural principles. And I am persuaded that this, increased by more experience and love, doth hold most Christians faster to Christ than naked reasonings could do. And were it not for this, unlearned, ig norant persons were still in danger of apostacy by every sub tle caviller that assaults them. And 1 believe that all true Christians have this kind of internal knowledge from a suit ableness ofthe truth and goodness ofthe gospel to their now quietened, illuminated, and sanctified souls."f Let no one venture to reject Christianity, then, who has never made it the subject of his intense regard, in connexion with the exigencies which press upon his own condition and prospects. It can be but ill understood by the man who has never looked at it in its adaptation to his own case. It is an individual, as well as a general remedy ; and the true study of Christianity is the examination of its coincidence with the wants and wishes, the hopes and fears, which press upon every son and daughter of Adam. For the want of this close inspection of the individual aim of Christianity, it is to be feared that thousands either reject it, or are utterly indifferent to it. But how contrary is all this to the spirit of true sci ence, which rejects nothing, and admits nothing but upon ac tual experiment. Let Christianity be fairly put to the test ; let it be taken home with unhesitating confidence to the heart; let its divine remedies be applied to the distempered mind; let its proffered influence be implored; let its true character as a restorative system be fully and impartially tried, and then, should it af ter all fail to impart peace, to heal the malady of the soul, to answer its own professed designs, let it be held up to that ob loquy which it deserves. But where is the man who ever betook himself to Christi anity without finding it to be the refuge of his weary mind? Who could ever, upon actual trial, charge it with a lack of faithfulness to its own pretensions? Who ever embraced its animating hopes without finding them productive of peace, and purity, and joy? Who ever became a true Christian without feeling the self-evidencing power of the gospel? Who ever believed on the Son of God without having proof, in his own mind, that the Bible is true? Who ever made ac tual trial of Christianity without finding it to be the " wisdom of God, and the power of God," to the salvation of his soul? Who ever knew the truth as it is in Jesus without beingmade free by it from the thraldom of sin and the bondage of corrup tion? The man who is a genuine believer is as fully con scious as he is of existence, that Christianity is no cunningly devised fable. It has established its throne in the deep- seated convictions of his heart. He has felt the transforma tion it has wrought : " old things are passed away ; behold, all- things are become new." His entire character has been favourably affected by it. Upon his once gloomy path it has shed the light of immortality; it has taught him to "rejoice even iu tribulation;" it has changed all the aspects of life, by throwing over them the hues of eternity; it has conferred on him a reality of happiness which the whole creation had no power of imparting. In his own person he beholds a monu ment of the truth and excellency of Christianity, which for bids him for ever to doubt. By other evidences, indeed, his faith is confirmed; but in his peace of mind, in that "hope * John v. 10. See also a discourse, by tbe Author, on " the Ex perimental Evidence of Christianity," included in a volume lately published by ministers conuected with the Monthly Meeting, Un the Evidences of Christianity." .,,,,,, t, t See Baxter's reply to Lord Herbert, entitled " More Reasons for the Cliristian Religion," 12mo, 1672, pp. 135, lSfi- which is full of immortality," and in the heavenward bearing of his once earthly character, he is enabled to feel that Chris tianity is no "cunningly devised fable." Having briefly looked at what may be regarded as the ex perimental evidence which Christianity is capable of planting in every man's bosom, we may now advance to other parts of this momentous subject. CHAPTER IIL Containing a brief survey of those branches of evidence which it is proper io urge upon the attention of those who have not as yet yielded up their minds to ihe divine authority and trans forming power ofthe Gospel. Some of those evidences may be traced in the internal cha racter of Christianity itself, and others in those outward at testations by which Divine Providence has demonstrated the fact of its celestial origin. As I am fully convinced of the self- verify ing power ofthe religion of Jesus Christ, I think it well to begin with the first of these branches of evidence, that no one may, with truth, imagine that we shrink from a thorough investigation of the internal structure and actual ten dencies of our Holy Faith.* SECTION I. The internal evidence of Christianity. When the subject of internal evidence has at any time deeply engaged my thoughts, I have proposed to myself the following question : " What is the most wonderful, and at the same time the most unaccountable, object which presents it self to our notice in a careful perusal of the New Testament Scriptures?" This question has always drawn forth one simple answer : the character of Jesus of Nazareth. In exam ining the internal evidence of Christianity, look — 1. At ihe moral character of its Great Founder. Let that character be fairly investigated, and I am greatly mistaken if it will not breed a conviction that Christianity must be from heaven. That such a person lived, and suffered, and died in the land of Judea, is admitted equally by heathen and Jewish writers, and requires no formal proof, therefore, to establish the fact. Josephus, Suetonius, Tacitus, and Pliny the Younger, place beyond all reasonable doubt the fact of his existence, and the period of his life, misery, and death. But what an object of astonishment and wonder do we be hold in " the man Christ Jesus !" Trace the son of Mary and Joseph from the manger at Bethlehem to the cross on Cavalry, and what a combination do you witness of all that is innocent and pure and benevolent ! Here is wisdom the most profound in the absence of all the ordinary means of ac quiring it. Here is a Being in whom all the social and rela tive affections are not only seen to advantage, but in absolute perfection. Here are humility and dignity perfectly com bined; the loftiness of moral excellence, without a single approximation to the feeling of cofitempt for others. Here is a sanctity of character which never yielded to a single tempt ation, and never deviated from the path of rectitude in a sin gle instance, combined at the same time with a condescension and mercy which never spurned the miserable, and never frowned on the trembling penitent conscious of his guilt and pleading for forgiveness. Here is one who never resented an injury, and never forgot a kindness; who never thought of an enemy, but to bless him, or of a faithless friend, but to pity * I do not think, judging from the manner in which infidels them selves have written, that the most successful method of assailing them is to begin with a discussion of the external evidences ofthe gospel. From their general ignorance of tbe character of Revelation itself, and from its marked adaptation, when examined, to produce conviction of its divine origin, I rather hesitate as to the propriety of demanding the belief of a sceptic upon the mere presentation of its external cre dentials. Besides, there is scarcely any object to be achieved, by this mode of procedure, which is not equally well answered by the method of arguing the truth of scripture from an examination of its Own contents. Assuredly the divine authority of the heavenly mes sengers may be verified as much by what they say, as by any other circumstance whatsoever ; and if the real power of conviction lies in their message, it seems but right to try its cfficucy. 168 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. and forgive him. Here is one whose days were devoted to the exercises of active benevolence, and whose nights were spent in communion with his God, who sought no reward of all his generosity, who wept tears of anguish over the ap proaching fate of those who persecuted him at every step of his existence with unabating cruelty, and who spent his last breath in praying for his guilty and relentless murderers, Whence such a character as this ? Was it from earth or hea ven? If from earth, then where can we look for its great archetype ? Not, surely, in the Gentile world ; for it infinitely surpassed even the ideal models which were laid down by the purest and most enlightened of its philosophers. Not in tbe Jewish world, for even its most cherished patriarchs were chargeable with innumerable imperfections; and in the days of Jesus of Nazareth, the great body of the nation were pe culiarly degraded, both as it respected the acquirements of the understanding, ar.d the habits of the life and conduct. Whence, then, this mysterious and wonderful personage; this Being so unlike all the generations of men who had pre ceded him or who have followed after him, yet clothed in a human form, possessed of human sympathies, and subject to human woes ? No wonder that Rousseau, in his exquisite and well-known contrast between Socrates and Christ, should feel himself constrained to remark, that " the inventor of such a per sonage would be a more astonishing character than the hero."* " Is it possible," said he, speaking of the Bible and of the character of Christ, " is it possible that a book, at once so simple and sublime, should be merely the work of man? Is it possible that the sacred personage, whose history it con tains, should himself be a mere man? Do we find that he assumed the tone of an enthusiast or ambitious sectary? What sweetness, what purity in his manner! What an affecting gracefulness in his delivery ! What sublimity in his maxims ! What profound wisdom in his discourses ! What presence of mind, what sublimity, what truth in his replies ! How great the command over his passions ! Where is the man, where is the philosopher, who could so live and so die without weakness and without ostentation? When Plato described his imaginary good man, loaded with all the shame of guilt, yet meriting the highest rewards of virtue, he described exactly the character of Jesus Christ: the resem blance was so striking that all the fathers perceived it." Yet this was the strange and unhappy man who, through the wickedness and pride of his heart, declared, " I cannot believe the gospel." Upon no correct or reasonable supposition whatever but that the Lord Jesus was the very person he assumed to be, the person whom the Christian Scriptures describes him to be, viz., the Messiah of the Church, and " God manifest in the flesh," can we account for the solitary and awful gran- deurt of a character "holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners, and made higher than the heavens," " who did no sin," and " who knew no sin." The Rev. Charles Bridges, in his excellent Memoirs of Miss M. I. Graham, (and which I take the liberty of strong ly recommending to the notice of the young,) who had been considerably tinctured with infidelity, states that the charac * Works, vol. v. pp. 215—218. t Bishop Sherlock, in contrasting the character of Jesus Christ with that of Mahomet, has, in one of the most beautiful personifica tions in our language, finely touched the argument fbr the truth of Christianity here contended for. " Go," says he, " to your Natural Religion ; lay before her Mahomet and his disciples arrayed in armour and in blood, riding in triumph over the spoils of thousands and tens of ' thousands who fell by his victorious sword ; show her the cities which he set in flames, the countries which he ravaged and destroyed, and the miserable distress of all the inhabitants of the earth. Wlien she has viewed him in this scene, carry him into his retirements. Show her the prophet's chamber, his concubines and wives ; let her see his adultery, and hear him allege revelation and his divine commission to justify his lust and his oppression. " When she is tired with this prospect, then show her the blessed Jesus, humble and meek, doing good to all the sons of men, patiently instructing both the ignorant and perverse ; let her see him in his most retired privacy ; let her follow him to the mountain, and hear his devotions and supplications to God. Carry her to liis tabic to see his poor fare, and hear his heavenly discourse. Let her see him injured, but not provoked ; let her attend him to the tribunals, and consider the patience with which he endured the scoffs and reproaches of his enemies. Lead her to his cross, and let her view him iu the agony of death, and hear his last prayer for his perse cutors — *¦ Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.' " When Natural Religion has viewed both, ask — which is the prophet of God ? But her answer we have already had when she saw pai-t of tills scene through the eyes of tbe centurion who attend ed at the cross ; by him she spake and said, 'Truly Ibis man was the Son of God.' " — See Sherlock's Sermons. ter of Christ, as a proof of the credibility of the Christian Revelation, arrested her peculiar attention. A minute scruti ny of his spotless life was most satisfactory in its result. "The more," said she, "I studied this divine character, the more I grew up, as it were, into its simplicity and holiness, the more my understanding was enabled to shake off those slavish and sinful prejudices which had hindered me from ap preciating its excellence. Truly, his words were dearer to me than my necessary food. He was my 'All in All.' I did not want to have any knowledge, goodness, or strength, inde pendently of him. I had rather be ' accepted in the Beloved,' than received (had that been possible) upon the score of my own merits. I had rather walk leaning upon his arm than have a stock of strength given me to perform the journey alone. To learn, as a fool, of Christ, this was better to me than to have the knowledge- of an angel to find out things myself. " From that moment," she adds, " I ceased to stumble at the doctrines of the cross. The doctrines of Scripture, which had before appeared to me an inexplicable mass of confusion and contradictions, were now written on my understanding with the clearness of a sun-beam. Above all, that once ab horred doctrine of the Divinity of Christ was become exceed ing precious to me. The external evidences of Christianity, though I now perceived all their force, were no longer neces sary to my conviction. From that time," she concludes, '.'1 have continued to ' sit at the feet of Jesus, and to hear, his word,' taking him for my teacher and guide in things tem poral as well as spiritual. He has found in me a disciple so slow of comprehension, so prone to forget his lessons, and to act in opposition to his commands, that were he not infinitely ' meek and lowly of heart, he would long ago have cast me off in anger ; but he still continues to bear with me, and to give me ' line upon line, and precept upon precept ;' and lam certain that he ' will never leave me, nor forsake me,' for though I am variable and inconsistent, ' with Him there is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.' " Such was the effect produced upon this intelligent lady's mind by an examination of the moral character of the Lord Jesus, and I am satisfied that a similar result will follow in every instance the adoption ofthe same course. At least we do claim from infidels, if they will still continue to reject the truth, that they furnish us, upon their own principles, with some reasonable account of the source whence sprung the in effable, purity and benevolence ofthe Son of God. Till they have accounted for his unequalled character they are charge able with the utmost levity and irrationality in persisting in their unbelief.* 2. Contemplate, as another internal evidence of the divine origin of Christianity, -the unrivalled sublimity of its diction. Compared with the rich treasures ofthe Old and New Tes tament Scriptures, all other compositions must retire into the shade. Rousseau must have felt this conviction most pow erfully when he made the following reluctant but important concession : " I will confess," said he, " that the majesty of the Scriptures strikes me with admiration, as the purity of the gospel hath its influence upon my heart. Peruse the works of our philosophers with all their pomp of diction ; how mean, how contemptible aTe they, compared with the Scrip tures !" The opinion of Rousseau is confirmed by that of men vastly his superiors in learning and virtue. Sir William Jones, than whom few of the human race have been distinguished by a more laudable thirst after knowledge, has penned the follow ing striking, but just eulogium, on the style and manner of the sacred writers : " The collection of tracts which we call, from" their excellence, The Scriptures, contain, independently of a divine origin, more true sublimity, more exquisite beauty, purer morality, more important history, and finer strains of poetry, and eloquence, than could be collected within the same compass from all other books that were ever composed in any age or in any idiom. The two parts of which the Scriptures consist are connected by a chain of compositions which beat no resemblance in form or style to any that can be produced from the stores of Grecian, Indian, Persian, or even Arabian learning. The antiquity of those compositions no man doubts, and the unstrained application of them to events long subse quent to their publication, is a solid ground of belief that they are genuine predictions, and consequently inspired." * See a very able Discourse on the Character of Christ, as an evidence of the Christian Religion, by the Rev. W. Walford, in a volume lately published by the Independent ministers of London on the Evidences of Christianity. See also the present Bishop of Cal cutta's Seventeenth Lecture on the Evidences, &c. A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. 169 The celebrated Mr. Addison, in discoursing on the same Subject, says, " After perusing theboukof Psalms, let a judge of the beauties of poetry read a literal translation of Horace or Pindar, and he will find int hese two last such an absurd ity and confusion of style, with such a comparative poverty of imagination, as will make him sensible ofthe vast supe riority of Scripture style." ( If we examine carefully the pathetic story of Joseph and his brethren ; the songs of Moses at the Red Sea, and on the borders of the promised land ; the sublime narrative of the giving of the Law from Mount Sinai ; the celebrated prophecy of Balaam ; the prayer of Solomon at the dedication of the Temple; the visions of the Jewish prophets, particularly those of Isaiah ; the odes of Jesse's son ; the matchless ser mon on the Mount; the public appeals of the apostles before heathen tribunals ; and the mystic symbols of the Apocalypse, we cannot but be struck and awed with the unrivalled diction, the surpassing imagery, and the lofty conceptions ofthe in spired writers. Let all the other books of antiquity be pro duced ; let the classic page disclose its richest stores ; let the entire mass of apocryphal writings undergo the strictest scru tiny; let Egypt, and'Greece, and Arabia bring forth the proud est monuments of their genius ; let the most dazzling passa ges of the Koran be separated from the mass of its absurdi ties ; let all ages and all nations vie with the writers of the Jewish and Christian Scriptures, and it will be seen, by a judge of the most inferior grade, that no argument can be held for a single moment as to the comparative grandeur of the book commonly called the Bible, that it throws the whole round of other productions into the shade, and that it is writ ten altogether in a style and manner which admits of no suc cessful rival or counterfeit. Now, what is the force of this particular argument ? Why, the Bible, was written by the posterity of Abraham ; a people proverbial for their destitution of all mental refinement, and who, in their secular history,- have displayed a marked infe riority to all the other nations of antiquity. The conclusion then is, if the wonderful volume known by the name of the Bible was verily the production of several Jews, who lived in different ages ofthe world, they must have written under a direction and an impulse more than human; they must have written under the guidance of that Spirit, to whom they themselves trace their loftiest aud humblest inspirations feel that thia conclusion is sound and rational. Try the Bible by any other Jewish production of any age whatsoever, try it by any work that has ever emanated from the pen or the ge nius of man, and the feeling.mustresis'tlessly take possession of the mind, that the words which God speaks, " They are spirit, and they are life." Unlike every other document that has been handed down from a remote antiquity, the volume of inspiration carries along with it, in the unutterable dignity and sublimity which pervade all its parts, an evidence ofthe source whence it sprung ; an evidence which could not fail to strike the mind even of an untutored savagei who might meet with it accidentally in some vast desert, and who had no living teacher to unfold to him the character or merciful designs ofthe God whom it reveals. How can men of taste, and genius, and literature, remain blind to this argument ! The very poetry, the lofty and well sustained imagery, the unparalleled diction of the sacred volume, will rise up in judgment against them, inasmuch as their dislike to the truths of revelation has led many of them to overlook qualities which would have commanded their profoundest veneration had they been able to discern them in a single uninspired production. It may be added here, that the few infidels who have written in commendation of the style of the inspired writers have totally neglected to account for the commanding and indubitable superiority of the Scriptures to all other com positions. Upon- any hypothesis but that of their divine ori gin the attempt must utterly fail. My only wish is, that intelligent men would make the honest effort to satisfy their own convictions that the Bible might have been written by such persons as the Jewish patriarchs and the Fishermen of Galilee, without any divine afflatus ; when such an attempt has been made by them, I am satisfied that, whether they are led to embrace the Holy Scriptures as the word of God or not, they will be compelled to admit the fact that, upon all the canons of literary criticism ever admitted, there is nothing whatever to warrant the idea that the Bible has been furnished to mankind in the same way, and on the same principles as other documents of a remote antiquity. When men are brought thus far there is great reason to hope that they will look with some measure of devoutness and integrity at the whole question of Christian evidence. Vol. II.— W. 3. Let the high standard of the morality of Christianity be examined* with impartiality, and it cannot fail to arouse atten tion to its extraordinary claims. For though the uncom promising sanctity of revealed truth is among the chief reasons which induce men to cavil at its evidence, and secretly to re ject its authority, it is, nevertheless, one of the most powerful and indubitable proofs of its proceedings from the fountain of infinite purity and benevolence.* On this subject the celebrated John Locke has said, " The morali*ty of the gospel cloth so far excel that of all other books, that to give a man full knowledge of true morality, I would send him to no other book than the New Testament." And, verily, if we examine all the writings of the most enlighten ed and virtuous of the heathen world, and compare or rather contrast them with the writings of inspiration,' we shall be fully satisfied of the accuracy of this great man's opinion. That there are fine passages on certain branches of morals, in some of the writings of pagan philosophers and poets, we do not attempt to deny ; but the great question is, what were their writings as a whole, and what were the views of moral ity generally entertained and acted upon among their disci ples ? Is it not notorious that self-murder,-)- that crimes which admit of no description,-); that theft, that sacrilege, that forni cation, that adultery,§ that revenge, that pride, that dissimu lation in the worship of the gods,|| that habitual disregard of the duty of prayer,*! and that aw Jul irreverence fbr the name of the Great Supreme, are taught, with an unblushing effron tery, by some of the chief patrons and guardians of pagan morality ? Who does not know that some of the most bril liant passages, both of the Greek and Latin classics, cannot be read by ingenious youth without involving the risk of a total downfal of their morals?** We shall find.no counter part, indeed, to the writings of heathen antiquity, unless we turn to the licentious and utterly , reckless productions of modern infidelity, in which every thing like disguise is laid aside, and men are taught to do, without restraint, whatever their own vile inclinations may dictate. How unlike the imperfect and often polluted writings of men is the system of morality laid down and detailed in the several books of the Old and New Testament! Let any man devote a reasonable period to the examination of the spirit and moral precepts of Christianity, and he will be compelled to admit its unsullied purity, its coincidence with all our natural notions of right and wrong, and its indubitable tendency to improve human intercourse, and to constitute mankind a community of brothers. Did all men believe and obey the dictates of Revelation, what a mighty and favoura ble revolution would be wrought in the entire frame-work of society ! What habit of known evil does it not proscribe ? What irregular passion does it not forbid? What acknow ledged virtue does it not enforce ? What kindly or generous affection does it not inculcate ? How lofty is its standard of action ! Though self-interest is not and cannot be excluded from a system so adapted to the nature of man, yet it is only permitted to occupy a subordinate place in the morality of the gospel. There men are urged to endure and act " as seeing Him who is invisible ;" there we are commanded to do no act of beneficence to be seen of men ; theTe the honour of God and the good of others are the objects at which they are called habitually to aim ; there the surface morality of the world is treated with scorn, and a right state of. the thoughts and affections is imperatively demanded ; there * Lord Bolingbroke himself has said, that '.'The gospel is in all cases one continued lesson of the strictest morality, of justice, of be nevolence, and of universal charity-" Works, vol. v. p. 138. ¦j- Seneca thus pleads for self-murder : "If thy mind be melan choly and in misery, thou mayst put a period to this wretched condi tion • wherever thou lookest, there is an end to it. See that precipice ! there thou mayest have liberty. Seest thou that sea, tliat river, that well? liberty is at the bottom of it ; that little tree? freedom hangs upon it. Thy own neck, thy own throat, may be a refuge to thee from such servitude ; yea, every vein of thy body." Deira, lib. iii. cap- 15- p. m- 319- Plutarch, and Cato, and Brutus, and Cassius, and Cicero, all agree to justify the crime of self-destruction. See Plutarch's life of Cato. | Juvenal, Satyr ii. ver. 10. Diog. Laertus, vol- i. pp. m. 165, 1GS "j Millar's History of the Propagation of Christianity, vol. i. pp! 63—65. H Epictetus bids his disciples " temporise and worship fhe gods after the fashion of their country." Enchiridion, cap. 38- p. m. 56. See A. Fuller's Works, vol i- p. 37. ¦ f Pythagoras forbids prayer to God, "because," says he, "you know not what is convenient" ** Is it not a heavy disgrace that in Christian countries so much of the time of youth should be spent pouring over the vitiated pages of the ancient classics. 170 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. meekness, and humility, and condescension, are represented as the true path to greatness ; there haughtiness and pride are associated with all that is mean and worthless ; there an assuming and lofty air is forbidden even in the ordinary in tercourses of social life; there covetousness is branded as idolatry; hatred as murder, and hidden lust as adultery; there every species of resentment is absolutely prohibited ; there the refusal to forgive an injury is described as an effectual barrier in the way of the exercise of divine mercy ; there all detraction, all backbiting, all evil speaking, all envy, all malice, all circumvention, are shown to be inconsistent with the hope of eternal life, and the state of acceptance through a Redeemer. There is indeed one grand peculiarity belonging to the morality of Christianity, which distinguishes it from that of every other system, viz : — the sublime and all-subduing char acter of its motives. Many useful virtues were enjoined by the Gentile philosophers, but they had no paramount consid erations by which to ensure obedience to their own precepts ; they had no moral engine of sufficient power to urge a sinful race onward in the path of obedience. Hence their code of morals was almost a dead letter, little regarded by them selves, and totally overlooked by the mass. "But who can glance for a moment at the morality of the Bible without coming into contact with those mighty and heart-stirring con siderations which are fitted^to rouse all the sensibilities of human nature, and to subdue into willing and grateful obedi ence the most stubborn and rebellious of the race ? Let the following examples of the class of motives referred to suffice * " Herein is iove, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." "Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice : and be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." " Come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you, and will be a father unto you, and ye shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord Almighty." " God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that- whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life." " Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought to love one another." " Let nothing be done through strife or vain-glory ; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than them selves." "Ye are bought with a price, therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are his." " The love of Christ constraineth us"; because we thus judge, that if one died for all, then were all dead : arid that he died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him that died for them and that rose again." How mean and poverty-stricken are the motives of all other systems when compared with the religion of Christ Jesus ! A book which founds its code of morals upon such consider ations can never surely be the production of man. In the wide range of his efforts there is nothing analagous. The fair inference, therefore, is, that a greater than man speaks to us in the living oracles. It may be safely affirmed, that if Christianity were cor dially embraced as the religion ofmankind, it would renovate the entire fabric of society. It is impossible for any one to say advisedly, or with truth, that one immoral habit, or one irregular thought or desire, receives a sanction from the wri tings of Christ and his apostles. The Christian may often have reason, through the infirmity and corruption of his fallen nature, to blush on account of the very imperfect manner in which he acts out his great principles ; he may often have oc casion to mourn that in him the religion of Jesus has such an unworthy representative ; but he can at all times refer with exultation and triumph to the glorious charter of his hopes ; and while he sees that " the wickedness of man upon earth is great," he may unhesitatingly assure himself that the to tal neglect or but partial reception of Christianity is the sole cause of the crime and wretchedness which abound. The enemies of revelation themselves being judges, what can they predicate of its probable tendency on the race but unmixed good? Must they not own that all the moral evil which abounds in the earth is in direct violation of the doctrines and precepts of revealed truth ? Must they not, however reluct antly, concede, that the principles of deism are feeble and powerless as a system of moral renovation, compared with the high and holy dictates of the Gospel ? Who does not per ceive that if a time should ever arrive when all men shall give heed to the words of Christ, that that will be the precise pe riod of the world's deliverance from the cruel yassalage of siu ? " Men would then," to use the words of an eminent di vine, " universally do justice, speak truth, show mercy, exer cise mutual forgiveness, follow after peace, bridle their appetites and passions, and lead sober, righteous, and godly lives. Murders, wars, hitter contentions, cruel oppressions, and unrestrained licentionsness, would no more desolate the world, and fill it with misery ; but righteousness, goodness, and truth would bless the earth with a felicity exceeding all our present conceptions. This is, no doubt, the direct ten dency of the scriptural doctrines, precepts, motives, and promises : nothing is wanting to remedy the State of the world, and to fit men for the worship and felicity of heaven, but that they should believe and obey the Bible. And if many enormous crimes have been committed under the colour of zeal for Christianity, this- only proves the depravity of man's heart ; for the Scripture, soberly understood, most expressly forbids such practices ; and men do not act thus because they duly regard the Bible, but because they will not believe and obey it."* Now the argument for the divine origin of Christianity arising from its transcendent morality, may be viewed in va rious lights. In the first place, how comes it to pass, that of all the religions which have sought to obtain the suffrages of mankind, that of Jesus of Nazareth is incomparably the most pure and benevolent in its tendency ? How comes it to pass, moreover, that among a rude people, such as were the Jews, there should have arisen a system of faith and worship, which, for grandeur of conception and sanctity of character, outstrips all the other records of time ? Is there not in this very cir cumstance a presumption of the highest order in favour of the divine origin of Christianity ? But supposing, in the second place, that the apostles of our Lord were chargeable with the crime of dexterously imposing a false religion upon mankind, how happens it that they set themselves with such zeal and ardour to oppose the preju dices and preconceived notions of their countrymen ? How happens it that they took the very method the least likely to conciliate their good opinion, and to secure their hearty ap» proval ? How happens it that in their system of morality they not only struck a death blow at the pride and hypocrisy of their own nation, but insisted oh a purity of heart and life which they knew must expose them to the hatred and deri sion of all mankind ? Upon a mere human calculation they adopted a method which could only issue in a perfect failure. Had they flattered the depravity of man; had they introduced a scheme which winked at any of his corruptions ; had they imitated the subsequent conduct 'of the False Prophet; had they promised to their disciples a life of ease and sensual in dulgence ; had they exhibited in their own history an exemp tion from poverty, reproach, persecution, and death; in a word, had there been any one thing in the scheme of doctrine they taught to secure the esteem and to call forth the appro bation of a corrupt and vitiated state'of society, we might then have been left to suspect that they had artfully construct ed a system to suit the depraved taste of mankind, and to raise themselves to notoriety by pandering to the vices of human nature. But when the very reverse of this is the case ; when the morality of the Gospel is so lofty and unbending as to surrender none of its claims to meet the prejudices either of Jews or Gentiles ; when it is so pre-eminent as to stand forth, in solitary grandeur, amidst the religions of all ages and all nations ; when it is found to embody every quality which is fitted to diffuse peace, and justice, and benevolence among mankind ; when it is impossible to detect in it a single pre cept which would not elevate the character of man and aug ment all his personal and relative enjoyments, what ought any thoughtful or considerate mind to conclude respecting it, but that it is the offspring of the Fountain of all Purity, and that it has been vouchsafed by Him in mercy to heal the dis tempers and redress the miseries of our fallen race ? I conclude this chapter in the words of one who cannot be suspected of any undue partiality to the Christian faith, of one who, unhappily for himself, did not allow the convictions of his judgment to rule his decisions or to form his character: " The Gospel, that divine book, the only one necessary to a Christian, and the most useful of all to the man who may not be one, only requires reflection upon it to impress the mind with love for its author, and resolution to fulfil his pre cepts. Virtue never spoke in gentler terms; the profoundest wisdom was never uttered with greater energy or more sim plicity. It is impossible to rise from the reading of it with- * See Scott's Essays, vol. ii. of his works, p. 21. A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. 171 out a feeling of moral improvement. Look at the books of the philosophers, with all their pomp; how little they are com pared with this ! Shall we say that the history of the Gos pel is a pure- fiction? This is not the style of fiction ; and the history of Socrates, which nobody doubts, rests upon less evidence than that of Jesus Christ. After all, this is but shitting the difficulty ; not answering it. The supposition, that several persons had united to fabricate this book, is more inconceivable than that one person should have supplied the subject of it. The spirit which it breathes, the morality which it inculcates could never have been the invention of Jewish authors ; and the gospel possesses characters of truth so striking, so perfectly inimitable, that the inventor would be a more astonishing object than the hero."* Let attention be devoted — 4. To the coincidence of Christianity with the character of God, and the actual condition of man."\ There is a marked tendency in the human mind to trace re sults to some adequate cause. Hence our dissatisfaction in the mere perception of facts which, in our present state of knowledge, we cannot account for ; and hence also the rest-, less effort made by us to discover some principle of causation sufficient to produce the phenomena beheld. The revolutions ofthe heavenly bodies must impress every one endowed with reason that there is some mighty impulse to which they are all obedient ; and the feeling we have of the existence of such an impulse has roused that inquiry into the laws of the ma terial universe which has led to all the discoveries of modern science, and which has enabled us to trace, in the one perva ding law of gravitation, the reason of certain revolutions and appearances, which without such an application of the human faculties must have been hid in perpetual obscurity. Nor is the tendency in man to reason from effects to causes the only one discoverable in the examination of what may be called his mental instincts. It is obvious that he is equally prone to reason from causes to effects ; so that when he has satisfied himself as to the existence of a particular-cause, and has acquired some knowledge of the -mode in which it oper ates, he is prepared to concede that other effects may be at tributed to it besides those which he has already discovered, provided they are in no way inconsistent with the facts and relations now perceived. Now, the tendencies thus described will be found equally to manifest themselves in reference to mental and moral sci ence, as in reference to the phenomena of the material uni verse. It is to these laws of our nature that we are indebted for many of those inductions by which we are enabled to judge of the characters and actions of men, and to predicate what may or may not be reasonable to anticipate in certain given circumstances. Apply these general principles to the investigation of the subject in hand. The Bible is a book professing to come from heaven. Is it, then, a communication possessing any thing in common with our ordinary associations? or is it a book so entirely new as to furnish us with no means of judging of it by the exercise of that ordinary tendency of our nature which leads us to judge of causes by their effects, and of ef fects by their causes? The slightest examination of the Christian scheme will convince any impartial mind that the view ofthe divine character and government which it presents is in strictest harmony with what may be deduced from the survey of nature, the phenomena of divine providence, and the * J. J. Rousseau, vol. xxxvi. of his works, p. 36, Ed. Paris, 1788 - —1793. " L'evangile, ce divin livre, le seul necessaire a un chretien, et le plus utile de tous a quiconque ne le serait pas, n'a besoin que d'etre medite pour porter dans l'ame 1 'amour de son auteur, e_t la volonte d'accomplir scs precepts. Jamais la vertu n'a parle un si doux lan- gage; jamais la plus profonde sagesse ne s'est exprimee avec tant d'energie et de simplicite. On n'en quitte point la lecture sans se sentir meilleur qu'auparavant. Voyez les livres des philosophes avectoute leur pompe: qu'ils sont petits aupres de celui-la! Dirons nons que l'histoire de le'vangile est ihventee a plaisir? Ce n'est pas ainsi qu'on invente; et les faits de Socrate, dont personne ne doute, sont moins attestes que ceux de Jesus Christ. Au fond, cest reeuler la difficulte sans ladetruire. II seroitplusinconcevablequeplusieurs hommes d'accord eussent fabrique ce livre, qu'il ne l'est qu'un seul en ait fourni le sujet. Jamais les auteurs Juiss n'eussent trouye li ce ton ni cette morale; et l'evangile a des caracteres de verite si frannans, si parfaitement inimitables, que I'inventeur en seroit plus etonnant que le heros."-See Dr. J- P- Smith's adm.r,abe answer to a printed paper entitled " Manifesto of the Christian Evidence So- " ri'he Author is greatly indebted, in this part of his essay, to a work entitled " Remarks on the Internal Evidence for t/ie Truth of. Revealed Religion. " By Thomas Erskinc, Esq. Advocate. dictates of natural conscience. The particular modifications of divine perfection which are seen displayed in the pages of revelation may be to a great extent new, but the great ques tion is, — Are not these modifications such as to fall in and harmonize with all that the reason of man would suggest to him, as suited to the character of God and the condition of human nature? I am satisfied that the discoveries of the Bible, though so transcendently glorious, are, in their great outline, answerable to all our natural conceptions of the Most High, as the supreme moral governor. Two things seem necessary to authenticate a religion as coming from God,— first, that the facts and representations which it Contains should be such as to exhibit all that is lofty in wisdom, mighty in power, awful in purity, and subduing in kindness ; and, second, that the representation thus afford ed of the divine character should, when contemplated and be lieved by man, be fitted, by the laws of his being, to trans form him into the divine image, and to make him a partaker of the divine happiness. The very first showing of Christi anity is to this effect. It proposes, by an overwhelming manifestation of the character of Go,d in the great scheme of redemption, to raise man from his present state of sin and re bellion, and to confer on him that elevated species of bless edness which arises from conformity to the will of an infinitely perfect Being. "When," says an eloquent writer, "we read a history which authoritatively claims to be an exhibition of the charac ter of God in his dealings with men; if we find in it that which fills and overflows our most dilated conceptions of moral worth and loveliness in the Supreme Being, and at the same time feel that it is triumphant in every appeal that it makes to our consciences in its statements of the obliquity and corruption of our own hearts, and if our reason farther discovers a system of powerful moral stimulants, embodied in the facts of this history, which necessarily tend to produce in the mind a resemblance to that higher character which is there portrayed; if we discern that the spirit of this history gives peace to the conscience by the very exhibition which quickens its sensibility; that it dispels the terrors of guilt by the very fact which associates sin with the full loathing of the heart; that it combines in one wondrous and consistent whole our most fearful forebodings, and our most splendid anticipations for futurity, that it inspires a pure and elevated and joyful hope for eternity by those very declarations which attach a deeper and more interesting obligation to the discharge ofthe minutest part of human duty, if we see that the object of all its tendencies is the perfection of moral happiness, and that these tendencies are naturally connected with the belief of its narration ; if we see all this in the gospel, we may then say that our own eyes have seen its truth, and that we need no other testimony. We may then well believe that God has been pleased, in pity to our wretchedness, and in condescen sion to our feebleness, to clothe the eternal laws which regu late his spiritual government in such form as may be palpable to our conceptions, and adapted to the urgency of our necess ities."* Such an interposition has the Eternal Majesty of heaven vouchsafed in the revelation of mercy by Christ Jesus, a re velation which abounds in all that is awful and all that is tender; which describes God as the avenger of sin, and the Saviour of the guilty; which exhibits the loftiest claims of the lawgiver, and the tenderest attributes of compassion ; which makes moral impunity infinitely odious and detestable, by the very means whereby it is forgiven ; which points to a guilty race reclaimed and saved, while the Glorious Projector of the scheme stands forth before the intelligent universe in the inef fable majesty of spotless- and unchangeable purity. Does reason tell us, that as God has seen fit to create vari ous orders of intelligent creatures, to him they must all be accountable, and over them all he must exercise the right and the control of a moral governor ? Revelation comes ih with its direct and absolute assurance upon this point, resolving all the doubts which sin had fostered in the human mind, and proclaiming God's right to rule, his title to obedience, and his determination to punish every infringement of his right eous government. Had the Bible said less on this head, or spoken a language quite different, it would have been at vari ance with the simplest dictates of sound reason. If there be one God, the creator and upholder of the universe, the foun tain of all beinof, and of all happiness, it follows by resistless consequence, that he is the governor of the world he has made, and that the laws by which he governs must be in ac- ' Erskine on Internal Evidence, third edit., pp. 18, 19. 172 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. cordance with the dictates of his own pure and benevolent nature. The Scriptures teach us distinctly what those prin ciples are ; but in doing so, they do not violate one of all our natural conclusions. Does the reason of man whisper to him, that the Being who made him is the constant inspector of his actions, and that a period may arrive when an account will be required of the manner in which he has passed the few short years of his transitory existence? Revelation does not proffer its aid to repress this natural and almost universal feeling ; but to place it upon the sure basis of a divine communication, to impart to it the character of an incontrovertible truth, and to raise it to the potency of an all-pervading and all-subduing motive. Does a secret monitor disturb man's inward repose, and tell him that he has sinned against his own acknowledged standard of duty, and fill him with awful forebodings of judg ment to come, and urge him to many a vain expedient for the settlement of that score of guilt which he knows he has been contracting from the earliest dawnings of reason ? Reve lation does not lift up its voice to repress the natural testi mony of conscience, but to cause it to be heard in yet louder strains of condemnation ; to strip man of all vain conceit of excellence which, in his fallen state, he does not possess ; to show, by the pure standard of the written law, how far he has departed from his original integrity ; to present such an image of his moral defection as shall cause him to loathe and abhor himself in dust and in ashes before God ; and to teach him the utter insufficiency of all human aid to extricate him from that state of condemnation and sin into which, by rebellion against the righteous Lawgiver ofthe universe, he has sunk.. Does the mind of man, conscious of its own evil desert, and no less conscious of the blight which sin has spread Over all the sources of human enjoyment, sigh after some hidden well-spring of life, some new manifestation of the character of God, which shall dart a ray of mercy and hope across the gloom of his apostacy ; some divine balm that shall heal those wounds which have been inflicted in his lacerated spirit? Yes* my beloved reader, such have been, and such are the wishes and aspirations of the guilty spirit of man. He has departed from " the fountain of living waters," and the entire range of creature enjoyment has proved but a broken cistern to him. He is not, indeed, rightly affected with the true na ture of his malady, nor does he properly appreciate the means by which his peace and happiness may be restored ; but he is in that precise state in which, if he will open the revelation of God, and prayerfully examine its contents, he will find the very blessings after which he sighs, and in the application of them, will perceive that the Au,thor of his being is also the God of his salvation. In the promise of a Saviour, divinely accomplished in the fulness of time, and in the propitiatory sacrifice of the cross, we behold a scheme which bears along with it indubitable proofs of its conformity to the character of God, and of its adaptation to the guilt and necessity of man. It is so far, in deed, above all his natural conceptions of a divine interposi tion, that it may well be styled " the wisdom of God in a mystery ;" but it is at the same time so exquisitely adjusted to his moral relations, and to the moral catastrophe in which he is involved, that he has only to open his eyes that he may see, and his heart that he may feel. The problem of his sal vation is here solved, while the claims of the moral governor remain unimpaired. His conscience tells him that he is a transgressor; but it suggests no effectual method of escape from merited condemnation. But Christianity points him to " the blood of the Lamb," to the " one offering" of Jesus Christ, " for the sins of the people." He feels that he is at a fearful moral distance from God ; but he sees in the method of his reconciliation the means whereby his nature may be reclaimed, and learns that a heart all rebellion may be drawn by the mighty attractions of divine love into the habit of cheer ful, unreserved, and filial obedience. To doubt that such a scheme, so perfect in its conformity to all that we connect with the infinitely pure Spirit, and so admirably adapted to the nature, condition, and prospects of man, — to doubt that such a scheme is from heaven, is to do violence to the surest inductions of enlightened reason, to turn a deaf ear to the voice of conscience, and obstinately to lose sight of a coincidence which distinctly shows that the nature of man and the means of his redemption lay claim to a common origin. Without the provisions of the Bible, man is a wanderer and an outcast. He beholds, in some measure, his responsi bility and his guilt ; but he has no well defined prospect of how it may fare with him when his body goes down to the dust. He feels that this world is a wilderness, and all it* inhabitants mourners ; but he is unable to solace himself in the prospect of a blessed immortality. He finds himself the subject of indefinite forebodings, and discovers nothing in the wide range of created nature that can fill up the desires of a mind distanced from its native element ; but how to impart a fixed character to his hopes, and how to satisfy his enlarged desires, he knows not. Let him turn, then, to the well* springs of salvation, let him view the character of God as set forth in the doctrine of the gospel, let him examine for him' self the great mystery of godliness, let him yield up his whole soul to the impression of redeeming love, let him implore the spirit of Christ to unfold the infinite grace and loveliness of his character, let him bow down his reason to the verities of the cross ; then will his guilt subside, his fears vanish, his prospects brighten ; then will his soul glow with ardent love to God, then will the darkness which broods over the spenes of earth be scattered ; then will the truth of revelation be felt ; then will the self-evidencing power of the gospel be verified; and then will the proud objector be converted into a " little child," and the vain disputer into a meek and humble disciple ofthe Son of God. Section II. The external evidence of Christianity. By the external evidences of Christianity we are to under stand those attestations to its divine origin which have been either directly vouchsafed from heaven, or which may be in fallibly traced in its early success and in its great moral results. And if, by. an impartial survey of the various topics connect ed with internal evidence, we are compelled to admit the presumptuous boldness of those who can disburden their minds of all apprehension in rejecting a scheme distinguish ed alike by its grandeur and adaptation ; by a careful exam ination of external evidence, we are driven to the conclusion, that the rejector of Revelation is at war with omnipotence, and that he is standing out against a species of proof which demands of every intelligent and accountable creature the most prompt and unhesitating submission. Such is the nature and such the variety of external evidence, that it leaves every man inexcusable who remains in secret or avowed oppositon to the claims of the gospel. In treating of the sub ject of external evidence I begin — 1. With Miracles. If the Bible be from God, it must be true in itself, irre spective of all miraculous attestation ; and if it be not from God, it is equally clear that no miracle can have been vouch safed on its behalf. A miracle is an act of Omnipotence, which deviates from, or suspends the ordinary course of nature,* and which is fitted to produce an impression upon rational beings by the very circumstances of its singularity and its unac- countableness. Such an interposition we may assure our selves would not be granted in support of any messenger not from God, or of any doctrine containing in it the slightest shade of imposture. The most inveterate enemies of Revelation have been com pelled to admit that a miracle wrought by any being professing to act under the authority of God, would be a sufficient evi dence of the -divinity of his mission. " We know," said a Jewish ruler to Christ, " that thou art a teacher come from God; for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him." A principle is here admitted which it is impossible, consistently with sound reason, to deny ; it is this : that a teacher working miracles furnishes indubitable, evidence that his mission is from God. To test, with utmost severity, the evidence of miraculous interposi tion in any, given instance, must be an imperative duty, but to withhold Our assent to any doctrine after the finger of Om- * Dr. Samuel Clarke has said that " A miracle is a work effected in a manner unusual, or different from the common and regular. method of providence, by tbe interposition of God' himself, or of some intelligent agent superior to man, for the proof or evidenee'of some particular doctrine, or in attestation of the authority of some particular person." The Rev- Richard Watson, in his Theological Dictionary, observes, that " A miracle, in the popular sense, is a prodigy or an extraordinary event which suprises us by its novelty. In a more accurate and philosophic sense, a miracle is an effect which does not follow from any of the regular laws of nature, or which is inconsistent with some known law of it, or contrary to the set tled constitution and course of things. Accordingly, all miracles pre suppose an established system of nature, within the limits of which they operate, and with the order of which they disagree. " A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. 173 nipotence has inscribed over it its celestial origin, is to trample reason in the dust, and to set up in its place the most Inveterate and stupid prejudice. The question, then, is, did Christ and his apostles perform the miracles attributed to them in the books of the New Tes tament? and did they appeal to those miracles in confirmfi- tion of the message they delivered ? In reading the inimitable discourses of Christ, no one can hesitate for a moment as to the nature of the appeal made by Him to miracles. "The works," said He, "which the Father hath given me to finish, the same works that I do, bear witness of me, that the Father hath sent me." " The works that I do in niy Father's name, they bear witness of me." " If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not. But if I do, though ye believe not me, believe the works ; that ye may know and believe that the Father is in me,' and I in him." " Believe that I am in the Father and the Father in me ; or else believe me for the very work's sake." Here miracles are assumed, upon the ordinary principles of reason, to be a .sufficient evidence of Christ's mission from the Father to every impartial and un biassed mind. So unhesitatingly did Jesus of Nazareth use this argument, that when the disciples of John came to him to inquire whether he was indeed the Christ, his only reply was, " Go and show John again those things which ye do hear and see : the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, and the poor have the Gospel preached to them." * And when the apostles of our Lord allude, at any time, to the power by which they perform their several miracles, they invariably refer to the all-potent charm of " that name which is above every name ;" as when the helpless paralytic was healed at the beautiful gate of the Temple—" If we, this day," said Peter, " be examined- of the good deed done to the impotent man, by what means he is made whole ; be it known unto you all, and to all the people of Israel, that by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom ye crucified, whom God raised from the dead, even by him doth this man stand here before you whole." The whole question of miracles, then, must resolve itself into a matter of fact. And the attempt of Hume and others to blink the fact, by assuming the insufficency of any testi mony to transmit the knowledge of a miraculous occurrence, is neither more nor less than to affirm, that if God should at any time see fit to perform a miracle, in attestation of Some message of mercy to a ruined race, he could not adopt any method by which the certain evidence of its occurrence could be preserved from age to age.f It is not surely, the spirit of sound philosophy in which any man asserts that a miracle is contrary to experience. It may not, indeed, come under the head of the ordinary experience of mankind ; but that it is contrary to it cannot be shown. According to our ordinary experience, bodily disease, when successfully removed, is subdued by the influence of certain human remedies which God is pleased to bless. According to the wonderful history of the gospel, disease is often rebuked by a word, a look, an exercise of the secret will of the miraculous agent. But what is there, we ask, in these two distinct classes of facts opposed to each other ? They may each, indeed, belong to a distinct chain of causation ; they may be totally independent events ; they may admit and require various kinds of proof ; but he who says that they are contrary the one to the other, utters a sentiment opposed to true philosophy, and commits his good sense in his zeal to overturn the evidence of the gospel. " To pronounce a miracle to be false," says a distinguished writer, "because it is different from experience, is only to conclude against ifs^general existence from the very circum stance which constitutes its particular nature ; for if it were not different from experience, where would be its singularity ? Or what particular proof could be drawn from it if it happen ed according to the ordinary train of human events, or was included in the operation of the general laws of nature ? We grant that it does differ from experience ; but we do not pre sume to make our experience the standard of the divine conduct." t * The last clause of this appeal is founded on the argument for Christianity which is derived from prophecy, and which will be glanced at in a subsequent part of this treatise. It was a distinct part of Messiah's prophetic character that when he appeared [he should " preach glad tidings to the meek"-that is, to the poor.- l9+ Sec1" ^Dissertation on Miracles," &c, by George Campbell, D'f See the Rev. Richard Watson's Theological Dictionary, under the article "Miracles." We hear much among infidel writers of the immutability ofthe laws of nature; but whence do they learn that these laws are never to be infringed on by the omnipotent will of the Infinite Mind ? It is surely no proof that the Almighty is a changeable being because he either creates a world, or acts according to his own-infinite perfections in governing it. There is often a great deal of assumption in the use of the terms " laws of nature," " course of nature," &c, as em ployed by writers of a sceptical turn. If in the use of such terms it were only intended to assert, that the Most High has subjected the material universe to the government of cer tain great laws, which act uniformly, except when he is pleased to suspend or to counteract them, there could be no objection whatever to the phraseology employed; but when they are spoken of as a kind of intelligent and independent power; when they are described as something almost distinct from tbe continued exercise of the divine behest; when they are regarded as an imperative control, binding even the will of Deity itself, they are placed in an imposing light, to which they have no conceivable title. " Our knowledge of the ordinary course of things, though limited, is yet real ; and therefore it is essential to a miracle, both that it differs from that course, and be accompanied with peculiar and unequivo cal signs of such difference. We have been told, that the course of nature is fixed and unalterable ; and therefore it is not consistent with the immutability of God to perform mira cles. But, surely, they who reason in this manner beg the point. in question. We have no right to assume that the Deity has ordained such general laws as will exclude his interposition ; and we cannot suppose that he would forbear to interfere where any important end could be answered. This interposition, though it controls, in particular cases, ihe energy, does not diminish the utility of those laws. It leaves them to fulfil their own proper purposes, and effects only a distinct purpose, for which they were not calculated. If the course of nature implies the laws of matter and motion, into which the most oppo.site phenomena may be resolved, it is certain that we do not yet know them in their full extent ; and, therefore, that events which are related by judicious and disinterested persons, and at the same time imply no gross contradiction, are possible in themselves, and capable of a certain degree of proof. If the course of nature implies the whole order of events which God has ordained for the govern ment of the world, it includes both his ordinary and extraor dinary dispensations, and among them miracles may have their place as a part of the universal plan. It is, indeed, consistent with sound philosophy, and not inconsistent with pure religion, to acknowledge that they might be disposed by the Supreme Being at the same time with the more ordi nary effects of his power; that their causes and occasions might be arranged with the same regularity ; and that in re ference chiefly to their concomitant circumstances of persons and time, to the specific ends for which they were employed, and to our idea of the immediate necessity there is for a divine agent, miracles would differ from common events, in which the hand of God acts as efficaciously, though less visibly. On this consideration of the subject, miracles, in stead of contradicting nature, might form a part of it. But what our limited reason and scanty experience may compre hend, should never be represented as a full and exact view of the possible or actual varieties which exist in the works of God."* It is daring and presumptuous in the extreme to attempt, by reasonings a priori, to set aside the physical possibility of a miracle,, or to assume that human testimony is inadequate to the task of rendering it available to the conviction of man kind. If the argument a priori is at all to be admitted in a question of mere fact, where the senses were originally ap pealed to, it were easy to show that the miraculous attesta tions of the gospel are entitled to all the benefits which it can possibly yield. No one can prove that it is contrary to the determined arrangements of Divine Providence that miracles should be wrought ; no one can assert, in the spirit of true science, that it may not have been a part of the great scheme of God's moral government- thus to step aside from the rule of his ordinary procedure; no one can advisedly say that if an occasion worthy of miraculous interposition should pre sent itself to the divine omniscience, God would fail to grant such interposition ; no one can seriously contemplate the pro fessed objects of Christianity, or examine in detail its wond rous provisions, without being constrained to admit, that it ' See the Rev. Richard Watson's Theological Dictionary, under the article " Miracles." 174 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. furnishes an occasion worthy of some unusual effort of om nipotence ; and no one can calmly survey the miraculous facts recorded in the gospel history without feeling that they are admirably adapted to attest as divine the several- communi cations to which they belong. A priori, I should say, that nothing is more reasonable than to suppose, first, that God would furnish his erring and sorrowful children with a reve lation of his merciful designs ; and, second, that he would so attest that revelation with the finger of omnipotence as to leave all without excuse who did not embrace its inestimable provisions. If any one is bold enough to affirm that testimony is an insufficient medium for the conveyance of a miraculous history, he should be prepared to go the whole length of his extravagant assumption, and to maintain, that no revelation could at any time be imparted by God to his creatures, be cause human testimony, the only method of transmitting his toric facts, was insufficient to the task of conveying to the next and to succeeding generations the evidence of such reve lation haying been imparted. There is no end to vague con jecture if It is allowed to usurp the province of sound reason, and to dictate, before hand, what may and what may not he proper in the Almighty to do. There is no sure way of knowing what God may do, but by ascertaining what he has done; and this can only be known through the medium of that testimony, the accuracy of which admits of being tested by rules which cannot deceive. I would state the argument, then, on behalf of the miracles of the New Testament in some such way as the following : — The gospel history informs us that both Christ and his apos tles wrought miracles ; it shows us that those miracles were appealed to as evidences of their divine mission ; and it pre sents every direct and collateral mark of authenticity and v truth which can possibly belong to any document of antiquity. It is admitted, on all hands, that Jesus of Nazareth actually lived and died in Judea ; that his followers became zealous and successful in the propagation of his cause after his death ; and that they were surrounded by many inveterate enemies, both among their own countrymen and the Gentiles. In the midst of danger, and iu opposition to all their own worldly interests, they persevered even unto death. The cause they espoused was at all times open to the gaze of subtle and fierce enemies, who would have been more than happy to detect any imposture, and who would have been eagle-eyed to discover any pretension to the exercise ofthe mighty power of God which was not actually possessed. The persecutors of Jesus of Nazareth had their attention drawn to his mira cles, which could no longer be hid in a corner; and, unable to account for them, and anxious to prevent their mighty effect, they attributed them to satanic power. The cause, however, spread with amazing rapidity, and the death of the Master but added fresh energy to the cause of his disciples. For a time, indeed, through the weakness of their faith, they were filled with gloomy forebodings ; but, according to his own prediction, their divine Leader rose from the dead; with powers of tongues and gifts of healing they went forth in, his name ; his resurrection they openly proclaimed in the city of Jerulalem ; thousands of impenitent Jews laid down the wea pons of their hostility ; the miracles of Christ and his apos tles were acknowledged by multitudes as indubitable matters of fact; and their fame spread throughout the whole world. Had they been mere impostures, they would have been speedily detected; on the contrary, however, they drew down the pe culiar notice of heathen writers, and Celsus himself finds no better method of disposing of them than by absurdly attrib uting them to a skilful use of the arts of magic on the part of Christ's disciples.* The following things are clear respecting Christ's miracles : They were of such a nature as to surpass all efforts of human power or skill. By them, and without the intervention of second causes, the blind received their sight, the paralytic in stantly walked, the lepers were cleansed. By therii five loaves and two small fishes were multiplied so as to become food for thousands ; by them simple water was converted into wine ; by them the stormy tempest was hushed into an im mediate calm ; by them the spirits of darkness were com pelled to depart from these unhappy victims whom they had been suffered to possess ; and by them, once and again, the * Justin Martyr, Apol- 1 '.-, chap, xxxvii., assures us that the early apologists for Christianity insisted more on the argument from pro phecy than from miracles, because, when they appealed to miracles, the enemies of the truth retorted upon them, by attributing the entire miraculous phenomena ofthe gospel to the power of magic. The apologists were wrong, but tf-c tact speaks volumes as to the reality of the miracles recorded by the Evangelists. dead were .restored to life, and became the resistless witnesses of a supernatural interposition. Now, in all these cases, every human being was an equally sufficient judge ; from the very nature of the facts it was impossible that any one could be de ceived ; the finger Of God was so distinctly palpable, that bSth sense and reason combined to verify the true nature of the events. Again, the miracles of Christ were done in public, at the doors of the Jewish temple, in the places of public resort, when he had been preaching to thousands, and when thou sands were the actual subjects of them. They were, moreover, of such* a nature that no collusion, no magical art, no legerdemain, no kind of deception, could have been practised. ' They were wrought in the presence of persons full of en mity and cruel hatred, who would not have failed to lay open the entire imposture, had any existed ; but so confounded were the Scribes and Pharisees at the sight of them, that they sought relief from their unhappy impressions, by representing Jesus of Nazareth as in league with the great spirit of darkness. The accounts of these miracles were, soon after their occurr ence, published to the world, in the very places where they happened ; yet no evidence can be adduced to show that a single contemporary of the Saviour was found bold enough to deny the fact of their occurrence ; nor indeed can it be shown that any attempt of this kind was made* till long after Christ had ascended to heaven. " Here, it may be demand ed, When could the belief of such transactions have been ob truded on mankind, if they had never happened ? Surely not in the age when they were said to have been witnessed by tens of thousands, who were publicly challenged to deny them if they could ! Not in any subsequent age ; for the origin of Christianity was ascribed to them, and millions must have been persuaded that they had always believed those things of which they had never till that time so much as heard."} , Having offered the preceding remarks on the miracles of; Christ, I would just observe, that the miracles recorded in the'. Old Testament Scriptures belong to the same great system of ''• truth, and are supported by similar evidence. Infidels have spoken of the Patriarchal and Mosaic dispensations as if al together distinct from the religion of Christ ; but this is a gross mistake, as Christianity is the consummation of all those institutions which are embodied in the Jewish Scrip tures. The miraculous fact of a universal deluge is abun dantly confirmed by all the researches of geologists, and the organic remains of a former world must leave those inexcus able who reject the data of revelation. And with regard to the miraculous history ofthe Israelites in Egypt, at the Red Sea, in the Wilderness, and in Canaan, the facts of that his tory and the national monuments which, from the earliest ages, were fixed 'on to perpetuate it, combine to relieve the mind from the slightest suspicion as to its genuineness. " Can any man of common sense think that Moses and Aaron could possibly have persuaded the whole nation of Israel that they had witnessed all the plagues of Egypt, passed through the Red Sea with the waters piled on each side of themt gathered the manna every morning, and seen all the wonders recorded iu their history, had no such events taken place ? If, then, that generation could not be imposed on, when could the belief of these extraordinary transactions be palmed upon the nation ? Surely it would have been impossible in the next age to persuade them that their fathers had seen and ex perienced such wonderful things when they had never before heard a single word about them in all their lives, and when an appeal must have been made to them, that these were things" well known among them ! What credit could have been obtained to such a forgery at any subsequent period ? It would have been absolutely necessary, in making the at tempt, to persuade the people that such traditions had always been current among them ; that the memory of them had for ages been perpetuated by days and ordinances, observed by all the nation ; and th-at their whole civil and religious estab lishment had thence originated : and could this possibly have been effected if they all knew that no such memorials and traditions had ever been heard of among them V'\ I cannot deny myself the pleasure of furnishing my readers with a remarkably clear and beautiful account of the mira- * The fable that the disciples stole the body of Jesus will be dealt with in its own proper place; It is evident, however, that no use was made of it by tbe Jews where it could have been most available ; in fact, it was too absurd to be gravely referred to; t See the Rev. Thomas Scott's Works, vol. ii. p. 16. j Sec the Rev. Thomas Scott's Works, vol. ii. pp. 12, 13. A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. 175 cles of the Mosaic dispensation furnished by the ingenious author of " Theological Institutes," who has already been re ferred to.* • " Out," says -he, "ofthe numerous miracles wrought by the agency of Moses, we select, in addition'to those mention ed in chap, ix., 'the plague 0/ darkness. Two circumstances are to be rioted in the relation given of the event. (Exod. x.) It continued three days, and it afflicted the Egyptians only, for " all the children of Israel had light in their dwellings." The fact here mentioned was of the most public kind ; and had it not taken place, every Egyptian and every Israelite could have contradicted the account. The phenomenon was not produced by any eclipse of the sun, for no eclipse of that luminary can endure so long. Some of the Roman writers mention a darkness by day so great that persons were unable to know each other ; but we have no historical account of any other darkness so long continued as this, and so intense that the Egyptians "rose not up from their places for three days." But if any such circumstance had occurred, and a natural cause could have been assigned for it, yet even then the mi raculous character of this event would remain unshaken ; for to what but to a supernatural cause could the distinction made between the Israelites and the Egyptians be attributed, when they inhabited a portion ofthe same country, and when their neighbourhoods were immediately adjoining ? Here then are the characters of a miracle. The established course of natu ral causes and effects is interrupted by an operation upon that mighty element, the atmosphere. That it was not a chance irregularity in nature, is made apparent from the effect follow ing the volition of a man acting in the name of the Lord of Nature, and from its being restrained by that to a certain part of the same country ; ' Moses stretched out his hand,' and the darkness prevailed, every .where but in the dwellings of his own people. The fact has been established by former argu ments ; and the fact being allowed, the miracle follows of ne cessity. "The destruction of the j-irst-born ofthe Egyptians may be next considered. Here, too, are several circumstances to be carefully noted. This judgment was threatened in the pres ence of Pharaoh, before any ofthe other plagues were brought upon him and his people. The Israelites also were forwarn- ed of it. They were directed to slay a lamb, sprinkle the blood upon their door-posts, and prepare for their departure that same night. The stroke was inflicted upon the first-born of the E gyptians only, and not upon any other part of the family ; it occurred in the same house ; the first-born of the Israelites escaped without exception, and the festival of ' the passover' was from that night instituted in remembrance of the event. Such a festival could not in the nature ofthe thing be estab lished in any subsequent age, in commemoration of an event which never occurred ; and if instituted at the time, the event must have taken place, for by no means could this large body of men have been persuaded that their first-born had been saved, and those ofthe Egyptians destroyed, if the facts had not been before their eyes. The history, therefore, being established, the miracle follows ; for the order of nature is suf- ¦ ficiently known to warrant the conclusion, that, if a pestilence were to be assumed as the agent of this calamity, an epidemic disease, however rapid and - destructive, comes not upon the threat of a mortal, and makes no such selection as the first born of every family. " The miracle of dividing the waters of the Red Sea has already been mentioned, but merits more particular considera tion. In this event we observe, as in others, circumstances which exclude all possibility of mistake or collusion. The subject of the miracle ; the witness of it the host of Israel, who passed through on foot, and the Egyptian nation, who lost their king and his whole army. The miraculous charac ters of the event are : — the waters are divided and stand up on each side ; the instrument is a strong east wind, which begins its operation upon the water, at the stretching-out of the hand of Moses, and ceases at the same signal, and that at the precise moment when the return of the vjaters would be the most fatal to the Egyptian pursuing army. "It has, indeed, been asked whether they were not some ledges of rocks where the water was shallow, so that an army, at particular times, might pass over ; and whether the Etesian winds, which blow strongly all summer from the north-west, might not blow so violently against the sea as to keep it back ' on a heap.' But if there were any force in these questions, it is plain that such suppositions would leave the destruction of the Egyptians unaccounted for. To show that there is no * Theological Institutes, vol. i. pp. 157—161, weight in them at all, let the place where the passage of the Red Sea was effected be first noted. Some fix it near Suez, at the head of the gulf; but if there was satisfactory evidence of this, it ought also to be taken into the account that formerly the gulf extended at least twenty-five miles north of -Sues, the- first place where it terminates at present.* But the names of places, as well as tradition, fix the passage about ten hours journey lower down, at Clysma, or the valley Of Bedea. The name given by Moses to the place where the Israelites en camped before the sea was divided was Piha-hiroth, which signifies 'the mouth ofthe ridge,' or of that cbain of moun tains which line the western coast of the Red Sea ; and as- there is but one mouth of that chain through which an im mense multitude of men, women, and children, could possi bly pass when flying from their enemies, there can be no doubt whatever respecting the situation of Piha-hiroth ; and the modern names of conspicuous places in its neighbourhood prove that those by whom such names were given believed that this was the place at which the Israelites passed the sea in safety, and where Pharaoh was drowned. Thus we have close by Piha-hiroth, on the western side of the gulf, a moun tain called Attaka, which signifies deliverance. On the eastern coast opposite is a head-land called Ras Musa, or ' the Cape of Moses ;' somewhat lower, Harnam Faraun, ' Pharaoh's Springs ;' whilst at these places ; the general name of the gulf itself is Bahr-al-Kolsum, ' the Bay of Sub mersion,' in which there is a whirlpool called Birket Faraun, ' the Pool of Pharaoh.' This, then, was the passage of the Israelites ; and the depth of the sea here is stated by Bruce, who may be consulted as to these localities, at about fourteen fathoms, and the breadth at between three and four leagues. But there is no ' ledge of rocks ;' and, as to the ' Etesian wind,' the same traveller observes, ' If the Etesian, blowing from the north-west in summer, could keep the sea as a wall, on the right, of fifty feet high, still the difficulty would remain of building the wall to the left, or-to the north. If the Etesian winds had done this once, they must have repeated it many a time before or since from the same causes.' The wind which actually did blow, according to history, either as an instrument of dividing the waters, or, which is more proba ble, as the instrument of drying the ground, after the waters were divided by the immediate energy of the Divine power, was not a north wind, but an ' east wind ;' and, as Dr. Hales observes, ' seems to be introduced by way of anticipation, to exclude the natural agency which might be afterwards re sorted to for solving the miracle ; for it is remarkable that the monsoon in the Red Sea blows the summer-half of the year from the north, and the winter-half from the south, neither of which could produce the miracle in question.' " The miraculous character of this event is, therefore, most strongly marked. An expanse of water, and that water a sea, of from nine to twelve miles broad, known to be exceedingly subject to agitations, is divided, and a wall of water, is form ed on each hand, affording a passage on dry land for the Israel ites. The phenomenon occurs, too, just as the Egyptian host are on the point of overtaking the fugitives, and ceases at the moment when the latter reach the opposite shore in safety, and when their enemies are in the midst of the pass age, in the only position in which the closing of the wall of waters on each side could ensure the entire destruction of so large a force ! " The falling ofthe manna in the wilderness for forty years, is another unquestionable miracle, and one in which there could be neither mistake on the part of those who were sus tained by it, nor fraud on the part of Moses. That this event was not produced by the ordinary course of nature, is render ed certain by the fact, that the same wilderness has been trav elled by individuals, and by large bodies of men, from the earliest ages to the present, but no such supply of food was ever met with, except on this occasion; and its miraculous character is further marked by the following circumstances : 1. That it fell but six days in the week. 2. That it fell in such prodigious quantities as sustained three millions of souls. 3. That there fell a double quantity every Friday, to serve the Israelites for the next day, which was their Sab bath. 4. That what was gathered on the first five days of the week stank and bred worms if kept above one day ; but that which was gathered on Friday kept sweet for two days ; and 5. That it continued falling while the Israelites remained in the wilderness, but ceased as soon as they came out of it, and got corn to eat in the land of Canaan. 6. Let these very extraordinary particulars be considered, and they at once con- * Lord Valentin's Travels, vol- iii- p. 344, 176 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. firm the fact, whilst they unequivocally establish the miracle. No. people could be deceived in these circumstances ; no per son could persuade them of their truth if they had not occurr ed ; and the whole was so clearly out of the regular course of nature, as to mark unequivocally the interposition of God. To the majority of the numerous miracles recorded in the Old Testament, the same remarks apply, and upon them the same miraculous characters are as indubitably impressed." To these remarks I may just add, that the, fact of the anti quity, genuineness, and uncorrupted transmission ofthe books both of the Old and New Testament Scriptures, is sustained by an uninterrupted chain of evidence, which could be ad duced in favour of no other document of a remote antiquity, 'and which ought to have shamed and for ever silenced the opponents of revelation. Even enemies themselves have unwittingly served the cause of truth by adding to this testi mony. The Jews are to this day, and have been through every past age, the effective and unanswerable defenders of ' their own canon ; and the enemies of Christianity who arose in the second century and downwards, were valuable coad jutors of the Christian apologists, in alluding to the alleged facts of Christianity, though with a view to refute them. It would be easy to show, riot only that the Christian fathers, notwithstanding their many errors'and absurdities, served the cause of revelation, by proving. the antiquity, genuineness, ' and uncorrupted character of the sacred text; but that Clesus, and Porphyry, and Julian, to say nothing of the Roman his torians, Tacitus and Suetonius, did an immense service, though they intended it not, in endeavouring to refute facts which, if they had never existed, could not have obtained currency in the world- It is unreasonable, then, in the extreme to refuse credit to the facts of Christianity, standing as they do upon such an ir refragable basis. God has spread over them the shield of omnipotence, and he. who will not be convinced by a well- authenticated testimony of miracles would not be persuaded though one actually rose from the dead. As the resurrection of Christ is a fact of such vital moment in the argument connected with miracles, I shall devote to it the notice of a distinct discussion, lipping thereby to condense into very narrow limits the amount of proof arising to Chris tianity from the survey of its miraculous character. 2. The argument derived from the Resurrection of Christ. It must have been remarked by every careful observer, that there are two distinct classes of miracles recorded in the gos pel history, those 'which the facts of Christianity themselves involve, and those which were wrought by our Lord and, his apostles in confirmation of the message they delivered. The necessity, perhaps, of the latter class of miracles chiefly origi nates in the first. A revelation of facts and doctrines alto gether supernatural seemed to demand an attestation corres ponding to its own nature. It is difficult, indeed, to con ceive of the idea of an express and direct revelation from the Infinite Mind without instantly associating it with what is miraculous, and without feeling a sort of intuitive conviction that it will be supported with a species of evidence answering to the wondrous facts which it professes to disclose. Most of the doctrines of revelation far transcend the puny conceptions of finite minds, and some of them are of such a sublime na ture thatthey are to be regarded rather as subjects of humble belief than as topics of querulous dispute. The' resurrection of Christ, in common with his incarnation, his temptation, his transfiguration, and his ascension to the right hand of power, is a fact of a distinctly miraculous cha racter. It is, moreover, a fact which was divinely attested on the day of Pentecost, and, subsequently by indubitable marks of a supernatural interposition. For a person to rise from the dead is an indisputable mani festation ofthe mighty power of God; and if it Can be shown that Christ actually rose from the dead, according to his own predictions, it must o*f necessity follow that both the pre science and the omnipotence of Deity were associated with the wondrous event. Many sceptics have been ready to admit, that if the resurrection of Christ could be fully established their opposition to Christianity must cease. It was impossi ble for them to concede less than this; and the zealous efforts they have made to repudiate the evidence of our Lord's resur rection sufficiently proves their anxiety to get rid of a fact which, if properly established, must, as by some mighty con vulsion, shiver infidelity to atoms. As the doctrine contended for is of such vast importance to the full development of the truth of Christianity, it is a pecu liarly happy circumstance that the evidence upon which it stands is of such a diversified an'd powerful kind; bearing, as it were, an exact proportion to the commanding position which it occupies in the Christian scheme. With the fact of Christ's resurrection from the dead, the whole system of Christianity must stand or fall ; to bear wiftiess to this fact the office of apostles was mainly established ; upon its recep tion our salvation vitally depends ; and by. its all-powerful influence believers are inspired by the animating hope of eternal life. ' ?¦ By this event, also, Christ was " declared to be tbe Soli of God with power ;" by it the perfection of hisatonement was fully announced ; and by it the evidence, pattern, and earnest of the resurrection of all his followers were strikingly dis played. How momentous, then, upon the showing of Chris tianity itself, is the doctrine of Christ's resurrection ! How firm ought Qur faith to be in the evidence by which it is sup ported'.- And how cautious and- thoughtful ought Ae to be who ventures to treat it as an imposture of human- device ! In briefly surveying the evidence upon which the doctrine of Christ's resurrection rests, we are naturally led to inquire whether his death actually took place ? Here no conceivable difficulty can arise. The fact is admitted both by friends and enemies; and_as the Jews procured his crucifixion and thirsted for his blood, there can be no reason to doubt that they would carry the infamous sentence of the law into complete execu tion. Fully aware of his own predictions that he would rise again, they did not suffer his body to be removed from the cross till every symptom of life was extinct; and so 'decisive were the marks of dissolution, that the soldiers, perceiving that he was already dead, did not break his legs, accordingto ordinary custom, when they wished to hasten the death of a particular culprit; but one of their number "pierced his side with a spear, and forthwith came thereout blood and water.'" Nor did Pilate deliver up his body to beburied till he receiv ed direct assurance from the officers in command that the vic tim of Calvary had actually expired. Nor was the place of Christ's burial less manifest than the fact of his death. No secrecy was attempted to.be practised in this matter by Joseph of Arimathea, or any of the rest of Christ's disciples. The request^ indeed, that they ifiight be, put in possession of the body of Jesus was complied with ; but all their movements were watched with nicest scrutiny, and a Roman watch .of sixty soldiers was instantly set over the place of sepulture. That Christ died, then, and was buried, no one can doubt. Jews and heathens confirm the facts. Yet in a period short of three full days, notwithstanding the strict watch of A Ro man guard, the body of Christ, by the admission ofthe disci ples and Pharisees, is removed from the tomb. A rumour of the fact instantly spreads, and enemies and friends have each their particular mode of accounting for it. Which account, then, bears upon it the signature of truth ; the disciples or the Jews ? They cannot be both true, for they are contradictory. The disciples say that two women, Mary Magdalen and Mary the mother of James and Salome, had repaired to the sepul chre for the purpose of perfuming the body of Christ with Eastern spices, and that an angel appeared to them, rolling away the stone from the door of the sepulchre, and inviting them, in the language of condescension, to look into the now empty tomb, where their Lord had been placed on the even ing of the crucifixion, but from whence he had now risen in the exercise of an omnipotent power; it is moreover stated by the disciples, that the women received commission from the angel to announce the fact of Christ's resurrection to the rest of his followers. From the same source we learn, that others subsequently repaired to the tomb and found the body of Christ removed, and only the linen in which it was wrapped left behind ; that the fact of an actual resurrection was de monstrated by the appearance of Christ to several of his dis ciples, both alone and in full assembly ; that the eye saw him, that the hand touched him, that the mind entered into fellow ship with him, that some enjoyed the benefit of his conversa tion, partook of food with him, listened to Jiis instructions, received his commands, and for the space of more than five weeks, had more or less intercourse with him; when, at the end of this period, and after he had given commission to his apostles, he finally conducted his disciples to a mountain in Galilee, and rose to his native heavens in their admiring pre sence. / Such is the account of Christ's resurrection as furnished by his friends. And what is there in the opposite scale? No thing whatever. It is, said, indeed, by the Sanhedrim, that the disciples stole fhe body of Jesus while the watch slept! This is verily all, in the shape of fact, that the Jews ever at tempted to oppose to the combined testimony of the disciples; A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. 177 and it is so utterly absurd, that nothing but the consternation occasioned by the astounding fact of the resurrection could have tempted them to induce the watch, by an act of bribery, to make such a statement. Either the watch were asleep or awake: if awake, how could an armed body of sixty men have allowed the disciples to rob the' tomb of its sacred inhab itant I and if asleep, how could they bear testimony to the fact of the. disciples' theft? This wild and extravagant fab rication, however, was speedily abandoned. Not once is it adverted to on those trials of the apostles which soon took place at Jerusalem, on account of their bold and open procla mation of their Master's resurrection. Though the apostles were cited before that very body who had given currency to the report of the disciples' theft,.they are not even once taxed with the crime; not a whisper escapes the lips of the Sanhe drim on the subject; not one of all the watch is brought forward to confront the apostles, and to shame them out of their ad herence to the imposture ofthe resurrection; on the contrary, an Influential member of the Jewish council advises forbear ance to the witnesses of the resurrection, and intimates even the possibility of the event itself. If the Sanhedrim had had the slightest belief of the wicked story invented, would they have adopted such a course? Undoubtedly not. Now was the time to muster all their strong evidence against the facts of the resurrection, and to prevent its further currency among the people; but nothing whatever of this kind is resorted to; persecution and threats are the only weapon,s employed to check the rising doctrine; and a whole assembly of men, deeply involved in the consequences of the resurrection, not only succumb to the counsel of an individual, hut apparently acquiesce in the hypothetical admission that the entire doc trine ofthe apostles may yet prbve itself to be of God. There is not, then, an atom of contradictory testimony to the fact of the resurrection as stated by the apostles. If we reject their account, we are left in a state of the wildest con jecture as to what became of the body of Jesus. Look, then, at their testimony, and see if it bears along with it the cre dentials of truth. Upon a review of the gospel history itself, was there any thing improbable in the occurrence of Christ's resurrection ? Did he not again and again, in the presence of friends and enemies, predict the event, and point to it as the great seal of his mission ? and did he not furnish exam ples of the same mighty power in the resurrection of Lazarus, and of the widow's son, as well as in many other demonstra tions of his eternal power and godhead ? Before any one can show that the event of Christ's resurrection was one by no means to be anticipated, he must disprove the entire facts of our Lord's history, and thereby subvert the testimony of Heathens, Jews and Christians. The question is, were the apostles deceived, or did they attempt to deceive others ? The former of these could not have been the case ; for they had every opportunity of identifying their Lord's person which could possibly be furnished, or which could ever be regarded, by the most scrupulous, as necessary. The very doubts of their own minds contributed to add strength to the conviction which they acquired of their Lord's identity; and for the space of full forty days, they were enabled, in a succession of interviews, to correct any sudden or erroneous impression, and to settle themselves in the triumphant belief that Christ was risen indeed. Nor was there one sign of an impostor or deceiver attach ing to these simple-hearted witnesses of the resurrection There is no attempt to furnish one uniform record of the transaction. On the contrary, we have four different ac counts of the resurrection, so distinct as to show that each writer aimed at truth, and was under no apprehension of dis crepancy in his statements ; and yet so entirely harmonious that the apparent contradictions only tend to establish the validity and perfect consistency of the history.* It may be asked, moreover, when and where did the apostles of our Lord begin to proclaim the fact of the resurrection ? Why, at the very period of its alleged occurrence, and in the very city of the crucifixion. When they were once convinced of the glorious event themselves, they were bold as lions in its defence, and were not afraid to give utterance to their con victions in the presence of those who must have possessed the best means of detecting the imposture, if any such had been practised. The most subtle and disputatious of the Jewish nation heard their testimony; malice, and wit, and power, were all enlisted against them ; but the new doctrine prevailed, and fresh instances of miraculous power, in the gift of tongues, and in the ability to heal all manner of dis eases, accredited the apostles as the commissioned servants of the Most High. " In all other things," observes the late Mr. Scott, "they appeared simple, upright, holy men ; but if in this they de ceived, the world never yet produced a company of such artful and wicked impostors, whose schemes were so deeply laid, so admirably conducted, and so extensively and permanently successful. For they spent all the rest of their lives in pro moting the religion of Jesus, renouncing every earthly interest, facing all kinds of opposition and persecution, bearing con tempt and ignominy, prepared habitually to seal their testi mony with their blood, and most of them actually dying martyrs in the cause, recommending it with their latest breath as worthy of universal acceptation. It is likewise observable, that, when they went forth to preach Christ as risen from the dead, they were manifestly changed, in almost every respect, from what they before had been ; their timidity gave place to the most undaunted courage ; their carnal prejudices vanished ; their ambitious contests ceased ; their narrow views were im mensely expanded ; and zeal for the honour of the Lord, with love to the souls of men, seem to have engrossed and ,. elevated all the powers of their minds. A more complete human testimony to any event cannot be imagined ; for if our \ Lord had shown himself ' openly to all the people' of the Jews, and their rulers had still persisted in rejecting him, it would have rather weakened than confirmed the evidence ; and, if they had unanimously received him as Messiah, it might tiave excited in others a suspicion that it was a plan concerted for aggrandizing the nation."* 3. The argument derived from Prophecy. This is a branch of Christian evidence possessing extraor dinary power, and capable of very extensive application. The proper idea of prophecy is the foretelling of such future events as no human skill or sagacity could anticipate, and as nothing but the prescience of the Eternal could either know or reveal. This is the test applied of old to the false gods ofthe heathen; ' Show us," said Jehovah to their votaries, " what shall hap pen ; declare us.things for to come ; show the things that are to come hereafter, that we may know that ye are gods." If it can be shown that the leading facts recorded in Scripture were foretold by omniscience long ere they occurred, it will follow of necessity that a revelation thus accredited is from God. Prophecy is, indeed, a species of miraculous attesta tion, challenging the investigation of men in every age, and accumulating new materials of proof as the revolutions of Divine Providence disclose and illustrate the events embodied in the prophetic testimony. The great object and end ofthe prophetic dispensation was evidently to testify " before-hand the sufferings of Christ, and the glory that should follow," and to this object and end all the predictions of Scripture might be shown more or less to contribute. I shall begin, therefore, with those prophecies which relate more immediately to the Messiah ; and if it should appear, from a survey of facts, that there were many prophecies ut tered concerning Him which no human skill or forethought could have ventured to announce, and which have realized a minute and circumstantial accomplishment, it will then fol low, that they furnish a convincing testimony to his character as the Son of God, and to his mission as the Saviour of the world. We shall first make the induction of the prophetic testimony, and then inquire how far it is probable that the prophecies of the Jewish Scriptures could have induced the followers of Jesus of Nazareth to endeavour, by their own means, to bring about the events predicted; in other words, to produce a coincidence in the life of Jesus to the anticipa tions of the prophets. The minuteness both ofthe predictions and the fulfilments will, perhaps, surprise those who have not closely examined this most interesting topic. In the text referred to in the notes, the prophecy and its accomplishment will be placed in immediate contact, so that those who wish to examine this subject for themselves may see how utterly impossible it was for any thing like chance or human imposture to have fur nished such an exquisite harmony.f When we look at the very first page of man's apostacy, we find the Great Deliverer promised, as that seed ofthe woman * See a discourse by Br. J. P- Smith " On the Evidence of the Divine Origin of Christianity from the Resurrection of Jesus," in a volume of Lectures delivered at the monthly meetings. Voi,. II.— X * See the Rev. Thomas Scott's Works, vol. ii. pp. 15, 16. t See a very able Discourse on " the Object and End of the Pro phetic Dispensation," by the late Archibald M'Lean. Works, vol. iv. 12mo. p. 883. 178 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. who was to bruise the head ofthe serpent, (a) This mysterious personage was to be of the seed of Abraham. (J) He was to belongto the tribe of Judah.(c) He was to be a member ofthe royal house of David.(-Z) He was to be born at Bethlehem Judah, the city of David, (e) He was to be miraculously con ceived and born of a virgin.(/) He was to be carried into Egypt and called out of it.(g) He was to have Elias, or John the Baptist as his forerunner. (A) He was to confirm his mission and doctrine by miracles, (i) He was to make a pub lic though lowly entrance into Jerusalem, riding upon a colt, the foal of an ass.(y) He was to be rejected of his own coun trymen the Jews. (A) He was to be betrayed by one of his disciples. (7) He was to be sold for thirty pieces of silver.(m) He was to be scourged, mocked, and spit upon.(ra) He was to be nailed to the cross, by his hands and his feet.(o) He was tc be numbered with the transgressors, (p) He was to be mocked and reviled while on the crossly) He was to have gall and vinegar to drink. (**) His garments were to be part ed, and upon his vesture lots were to be cast.(s) He was to be cut off from the land ofthe living by a violent death. (r!) He was to be pierced, but not a bone of him to be broken, (w) He was to' make his grave with the rich, (a) He was not to see corruption. (to) He was to rise from the dead. (a;) He was to ascend into heaven, sit at the right hand of*God, and pour out the Holy Spirit in his various gifts upon men.(-y) His divine dignity was also distinctly marked in the pro phetic testimony. According to the flesh, he was to be ofthe seed of David; but beyond this there was a view of his char acter which exhibited him in all the glory of essential and uncreated Godhead. He was to be called Immanuel. (z) He was described as the mighty God.(aa) He was spoken of as Jehovah our righteousness. (ii) He was portrayed as the Son of God. (cc) He was declared to be David's Lord.(-M) Nor were the offices which Messiah was to sustain over looked by the omniscient spirit of the prophetic dispensation. He was to be a prophet like unto Moses, (ee) He was to be a priest forever, after the order of Melchisedec. (_$¦¦) He was to be an anointed King, on Zion's holy hill, — that is, the Mes siah and Sovereign of his church, (gg) In like manner the spiritual empire of the, Son of God is portrayed in the prophetic page. Its nature, its extent, its duration, its blessedness, its happy subjects, are all describ ed.^/*) And though many ofthe predictions which relate to (a) Compare Gen. iii. 15, with Luke i. 29 — 36, and Gal. iv. 4. (4) Com. Gen. xxii. 18, with Gal. iii. 16, 17, and Heb. ii. 16. (c) Com. Gen. xlix. 10, with Heb. vii. 14. (d) Com. 1 Sam. vii. 12 — If. Isa. xi. 1 — 6. Jer. xxiii. 5, 6, with Luke i. 32, 69. Rom. i. 3. (e) Com. Micah v. 2, with Matt. ii. 1, 5, 6, and Luke ii. 4, 11. (/) Com. Isa. vii. 14, with Matt. i. 20 — 24. Ig) Com. Hos. xi. 1, with Matt. ii. 13 — 16. (A) Com. Isa. xl. 3, 4. Mal. iii. 1, and iv. 5, with Matt iii. 1 — 1. xvii. 10 — 14. Luke i. 17, vii. 27. ( ') Com. Isa. xxxv. 5, 6, with Matt. xi. 3, 7. John v. 36, and Acts ii. 22. (J) Com. Zech. ix. 9, and Psalms cxviii. 25,26, withMatt xxi. 2 — 12, and John xii. 12, 19. (k) Com. Isa. viii. 14, 15. xviii. 16, liii. 3, and Psa. cxviii. 22, with Matt. xxi. 42 — 45. John i. 10, 11, xii. 37 — 40, and xv. 22—26. (I) Com. Psa. xii. 9, with John xiii. 18. (m) Com. Zech. xi. 12, with Matt. xxv. 14, 15, and xxvii. 3 — 11. In) Com. Isa. 1, 6, with Matt xxvi. 67, 68, and xxvii. 26, 32. (o) Com. Psa. xxii. 16, with Luke xxiii. 33, and John xix. 17, 18. (p) Com. Isa. liii. 12, with Luke xxii. 37, and xxiii. 33. (q) Com. Psa. xxii. 7, 8, with Matt, xxvii. 34, 35. rr) Com. Psa. lxix. 21, with Matt, xxvii. 34, 48. (s) Com. Psa. xxii. 18, with Matt xxvii. 35, and John xix. 23, 24. (t) Com. Isa. liii. Dan. ix. 26, with John xix. 30. Acts ii. 23. (?¦) Com. Zech. xii. 10, Exod. xii. 46, Psa. xxxiv. 20, with John xix. 33—38. iv) Com. Isa. liii. 9, with Matt, xxvii. 57 — 61. (w) Com. Psa. xvi. 10, with Acts ii. 25 — 32, xiii. 34, 38. (x) Com. Psa. ii. 7, xvi. 11, and Isa. liii. 8, with Acts ii. SO, 31, xiii. S3, 34. (y) Com. Psa. Ixviii. 18, and ex. 1. Joel ii. 28, with Eph. iv. 8—13, Mark xvi. 19. Acts ii. 33. (z) Com. Isa- vii. 14, with Mark i. 23. (aa) Com. Isa. ix. 6, with Tit. ii. 13. (bb) Com. Jer. xxxiii. 5, 6, with 1 Cor. i. 30, 31. (cc) Com. 2 Sam. vii. 14. Psa. ii. 7, 12, with Rom. i. 3,4- Heb. i. 5. (dd) Com. Psa. ex. 1, with Matt. xxii. 42, 46. lee) Com. Deut xviii. 18, with Acts iii. 22, 24. (ff) Com. Psa. ex. 4, with Heb. v. 5, 6, vii. viii. ix. x. (gg) Com. Psa. ii. 6. Psa. ii. 2. Dan. ix. 26, with John xx. 30, 81. Acts ii. 36. (AA) Com. Psa. xlv. 6, 7. Isa. ix. 6—8, xi. 1—11. xlix. 6, with Gal. iii. 8. Heb. i. 8, 9. Luke i. 30—34. Rom. xiv. 12. Acts xiii. 47. that empire are not yet fulfilled, and though some of them will not realize their accomplishment till the consummation of all things';1 yet enough has been fulfilled to show. that •Christ and his kingdom are the distinct objects of reference, and that whatjs yet unaccomplished shall ere long have the light of Divine Providence shed upon it. When I look at the number, minuteness, and singular cha racter of the prophetic testimonies of the Jewish Scriptures to Messiah, and compare them with their exact and circumstan tial accomplishment in the person, office, and empire of Jesus of Nazareth, I am equally astounded at the unbelief of Jews and Infidels. How can they resist such a flood of light ? Upon any conceivable scheme of adjustment, how can they, in their present state of mind, account for the predictions and their fulfilment! Let it be remembered that Christians did not construct the prophecies ; they formed part of a document in the hands of their bitterest enemies ; and let it be equally re membered, that the principal facts in the history of the Son of God which verify the prophecies, were realities which the most inveterate infidels have been compelled to admit. Let the wondrous coincidence, then, be accounted for on any other principle but the admission of a great scheme of prophecy originating in the divine prescience, and intended to vindicate the claims of a revelation which has been vouchsafed by God to his bewildered and erring children. I know of no method of evading the force of the argument derived from prophecy, but by the supposition, that the apos tles of our Lord, finding in the Jewish Scriptures a vast num ber of predictive statements, concerning an illustrious person age who was to rise up in the nation of Israel, accommodated themselves, with their leader, to the scheme thus perceived by them. But the entire character and conduct ofthe men,,.- their benevolence, their contempt for every thing like human ambition and applause, the purity and integrity of their man ners, their fearless exposure of themselves to persecution and death, the total absence of any thing like inferior motive to sustain them, forbids us, upon all the ordinary calculations of human nature, to conceive of them as heartless deceivers and villains. If they were so, it may be safely affirmed that they acted a part the very opposite of all the other impostors that ever lived. But supposing they were deceivers, and that they made themselves agents to the fulfilment of the Jewish prophecies ; let us see how this can be borne out by the facts of the case. This inquiry is so w.ell met by the present Bishop of- Chester, that I cannot do a greater service to my readers than to quote his own words on the subject. " It may be thought," says he, " that a design like that at tributed to the followers of Jesus would be greatly assisted by the prophecies recorded in their national Scriptures,' and pointing to some remarkable personage who was expected to appear. " 1. For example : the time of this appearance was fixed by the prophet Daniel at about four hundred and ninety years from his own days; which so closely corresponded with the birth of Jesus, that such an event was looked for, by ' devout persons,' at the very period when it occurred. This would be, as was before observed, a circumstance greatly in their fa vour. "2. The next thing to be considered by the framer of this deceit, would be the place of their leader's birth. Jesus was born at Bethlehem. Upon consulting their Scriptures, they would find this passage respecting Bethlehem : ' Thou Beth lehem Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be the ruler in Israel, whose goings forth have been from of old, for everlasting.' This would prove, beyond what could be anticipated, an assistance of their design. " 3. It seemed to be intimated in the prophecies, that the deliverer who was to come should be preceded by a forerun ner, who might awaken the attention of the people to him. For it was written, ' The voice of him that crieth in the wilder ness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord ; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.' And again, ' Behold, I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me ; and the Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come into his temple.' Now it was notorious that a singular character, John, called 'the Baptist,' had appeared a short time before Jesus began his ministry, pretending to be this messenger, and nothing more, and directing his followers to one who was to ' come after him.' This was another coincidence equally wonderful and favourable. " 4 Further, as to the most important parts : the way in which Jesus had lived, and had been received, and died. His A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. 179 character, as represented in the Gospels, had been peculiar in every respect; but especially remarkable for the union of meekness and constancy which it displayed. " Of unknown origin and humble parentage, he had attract ed considerable notice, and many followers ; yet he had not been generally acknowledged among his countrymen, and those who adhered to him were not the great and powerful. His life, upon the whole, was one of trial and hardship, not one of triumph and exaltation. In the end, he was sentenced to death with the notoriously wicked ; and suffered a punish ment, which even his judge confessed that his conduct had not deserved. Yet, though dying with malefactors, he was laid in a rich and honourable tomb. " A character answering this description was portrayed by that prophet who had always been considered as most parti cular in what respected the future Messiah. " It cannot be denied that the existence of these ancient prophecies would be very advantageous to men setting out with the purpose in question. But it is time to ask in our turn, how they came to find these prophecies ready to their hand ? prophecies of such a nature, that no man could have contrived a scheme dependent upon them, because they could not command the fact by which they were to be fulfilled. With respect to the birth-place, for example : in order that it might happen to be Bethlehem, it was requisite that a gene ral census should be held, convening all the inhabitants of the country to their chief town; by which means alone the mother of Jesus was called away from her usual residence, and her infant born at Bethlehem, instead of Nazareth. The preparatory ministry of the Baptist was equally beyond the control of the disciples. So were the minute details of inci dents, which agree in a wonderful manner with the circum stantial narrative. The entrance of Jesus into Jerusalem, at once hunfoleand triumphant, (a) The manner of his death, and his own countrymen the cause. The peculiar indignities which he underwent : the very words of mockery used against him.(d) The price which Judas received for his treachery The purpose to which that money was applied, (c) " Passages of this nature could not have been introduced by the apostles into the existing scriptures, because, as their countrymen were generally hostile to the design, such an at tempt must have proved fatal to their pretensions. And fur- ther,.because the books among which these scattered sentences are found, had now been extensively diffused during a period of three hundred years in a foreign language, defying the im posture of the whole nation, if the whole nation had concur red in the design. " We are reduced, then, to the necessity of supposing that the followers of Jesus, desiring to deify their teacher, selected from their national Scriptures these pointed allusions to cir cumstances like his, which happened to be written there, and brought them forward to confirm his pretensions. " But surely to ascribe coincidences like these to chance, to allege that all these passages were thrown out at random in the -Jewish Scriptures, and that the circumstances of the birth, and life, and character, and death of Jesus, turned out so as to agree with them, is to attribute to chance what never did or could take place by chance ; and in itself far more im probable than the event which such a solution is intended to disprove. For, allow io Jesus the authotity which he claims, and every difficulty vanishes. We should then expect to find prophetic intimations of his great purpose, and ofthe way in which it was to be effected. We should expect to find them, too, just what they are ; not united and brought together in a way of formal description, which could only be a provision for imposture ; but such scattered hints and allusions as, after the event has occurred, serve to show that it was predicted, by a comparison of the event and the prophecy. " It ought to be observed, in addition, that if the disciples of Jesus had framed their story and their representation of facts, with a view of obtaining this collateral support, they would have been more diligent and ostentatious in pointing out the circumstances of resemblance. They would have an ticipated the labours of those writers who have made it their business to show the completion of prophecy in the events re lated in the gospels. But, on the contrary, they bring these things forward in an historical rather than an argumentative way, and commonly leave the deductions which may be drawn from them to the discernment of after times."* I must be allowed to remark, before dismissing this branch of evidence, that though the prophecies of the Old and New Testaments chiefly relate to the Messiah, and are all so constructed as, in their accomplishment, to add strength to the evidence which confirms the Christian revelation, they are by no means confined to the delineation of his character and claims. They occupy a range most extensive, and carry the mind over the eventful history of the Jewish nation, and of almost all the nations of heathen antiquity. Let it never be forgotten, that Nineveh's predicted ruin has come upon it; that Babylon, in all its boasted splendour, has been " swept with the besom of threatened destruction;" that Tyre, the great port of the ancient world, has become, according to the warnings of Ezekiel, a place only for the drying of fisher men's nets ; that Egypt, the mother of arts, has become " the basest of kingdoms," and has never since been able "to exalt herself among the nations," as if to show that all the events of futurity are naked and open to that omniscient Spirit who foretold her doom, and predicted her permanent humiliation. Nor, in contemplating the great scheme of prophecy, and the support which it yields to the truth of Revelation, must we lose sight of the destines of the Jewish nation.* In the fearful destruction of Jurusalem by the Roman army; in the dispersion and long-continued peculiarity ofthe seed of Abra ham ; in the contempt, persecution, and infamy which they have so long endured ; in the promulgation of the gospel among Gentile tribes; in the many and hateful corrup tions of the religion of Jesus which have been introduced through the medium of Anti-Christian powers ; and in the preservation and growing triumphs ofthe Christian faith, we have such indubitable fulfilments of the prophetic record, that he who refuses to embrace, as divine, the wondrous volume (a) Com. Matt. xxi. 1, &c. with Zech. ix. 9. (b) Com. Isa. i. 6. Ps. xxii., lxix. 20. with Matt, xxvii. (c) Com. Zech. xi. 12. with Matt. xxvi. 15. xxvii. 3, &C * " The Evidence of Cliristianity derived from its Nature and Re ception." By John Bird Sumner, D.D-, Lord Bishop of Chester. Fourth Edition. 12mo. pp. 124 — 133.- * '" The great lawgiver of the Jews,' observes Mr. Home, (in his Introduction, vol. i. p. 327), foretold that they should be remov ed into all the kingdoms of the earth, — scattered among all peo ple from one end ofthe earth, even unto the other,— find no ease or rest, — 'be oppressed and crushed always; — be left few in number among ihe heathen, — pine away in their iniquity in their enemies' land, — and become an, astonishment, a proverb, and a bye-word unto all nations. These predictions were literally fulfilled during their subjection to tbe Chaldeans and Romans ; and, in later times, in all the nations where they have been dispersed. Moses foretold that their enemies would besiege and take their cities ; and this pro phecy was fulfilled by Shishak, King of Egypt ; Shalmaneser, King of Assyria ; Nebuchadnezzar, Antiochus, Epiphanes, Sosius, and Herod ; and finally by Titus. Moses foretold that such grievous famines should prevail during those sieges, tliat they should eat the flesh of their sons and daughters. This prediction was fulfilled about six hundred years after the time of Moses, when Samaria was besieged by the King- of Syria ; also, about nine hundred years after that time, among the Jews, during the siege of Jerusalem, be fore the Babylonish captivity ; and finally, fifteen hundred years after, at the siege of Jerusalem by the Romans. Though the He brews were to be as the stars of heaven for multitude, Moses predicted that they should be few in number, and his prophecy was fulfilled : for, in the last siege of Jerusalem, Josephus tells us that an infinite multitude perished by famine ; and he computes the total number who perished by it, and by the Avar in Jerusalem, and other parts of Judea, at one million two hundred and forty thousand four hundred and ninety, besides ninety-nine thousand two hundred who were made prisoners, and sold unto their enemies for bondmen and bondwomen ; and after their last overthrow by Hadrian, many thousands of them were sold ; and those for whom purchasers could not be found (Moses foretold that no man would buy them) were transported into Egypt, where they perished by shipwreck or famine, or were massacred by the inhabitants. Since the destruc tion of Jerusalem, they have been scattered among all nations ; among whom they have found no ease, nor liave ihe soles of their feet had rest ; they have been oppressed and spoiled evermore, especially in the East, where the tyranny exercised over them is so severe, as to afford a literal fulfilment of the prediction of Moses, — Thy life shall hang in doubt before thee, and thou shalt fear day and night, and shalt have no assurance of thy life. Yet, notwithstanding all their oppressions, they have still continued a separate people, with out incorporating with the nations; and they have become an as tonishment and a bye-word among all the nations whither they have been carried since their punishment has been inflicted. The very name of a Jew has been used as a term of peculiar reproach and infamy. Finally, it was foretold, that their plagues sliould be won derful, even great plagues, and of long continuance. And have not their plagues continued more than seventeen hundred years? In comparison of them, their former captivities were very short; during their captivity in Chaldea, Ezekiel and Daniel prophesied ; but now they have no true prophet'to foretell tbe end of their calam ities. What nation has suffered so much, and yet endured so long? What nation has subsisted as a distinct people in their own country so long as the Jews have done in their dispersion into all countries ? Anil what a sta*-di*-g miracle is thus exhibited to the world in the fulfilment, at this very time, of prophecies delivered consider ably more than three thousand years ago I What a permanent attestation is it to the divine legation of MosesJ" 180 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. of which it forms such a distinguished part, sins against all the laws of moral evidence, and, at the same time, risks his eternal salvation by rejecting the council of God against himself. 4. The evidence of Christianity derived from a correct estimate of its early success. It would be most inconclusive to infer the supernatural origin of Christianity from the mere fact of its success ; inas much as some of the greatest impostures the world ever knew have obtained, for many ages, a most powerful and extensive dominion over the human mind. The early preva lence of the gospel is, in itself, no decisive proof of its divine origin. Ere it can be regarded as such, a number of circum stances must combine with the fact of its success, which admit of no just or rational solution but the admission of the finger of God. The question then is, did such circumstances evince themselves in the early triumphs of Christianity? And, if they did, wherein did they consist? and how do they admit of being exhibited in the shape of a conclusive argu ment for the truth and divinity of the gospel ? It is then a fact that Jesus of Nazareth was put to death in the reign of Tiberius, by the order of Pontius Pilate, his Procurator.* It is a fact that as early as the time of Clau dius, who died within twenty years of the crucifixion, the religious assemblies of the Christians were proscribed under open pretext that they were withdrawing men from the wor ship of the gods.f It is a fact, that in the reign of Nero, the followers of Christ endured persecutions of the most fear ful kind, and that this wicked despot endeavoured to fix upon them the stigma of burning Rome, though it was justly and loudly charged on himself, j: It is a fact that Pliny the younger, a 'Proconsul under the Emperor Trajan, who was contempo rary with Ignatius, aifd who flourished about seventy-five years after the death of Christ, describes the Christian assem blies in Bithynia and Pontus as consisting of "avast multi tude'^ of all ages and sexes, and speaks Of Christianity as an inveterate superstition which had spread itself, not only through cities, but over villages and the whole country.* It is a fact, that Christian churches were established in every province of the Roman empire .within a very brief period of the death of Christ,-)- and that thousands and tens of thou sands of new converts maintained, with unshaken confidence, their adherence to the facts and promises of the gospel amidst the heaviest persecutions and calamities that ever befel mor tals in this vale of tears. It is a fact that the first propaga tors of Christianity were only fishermen of.Galilee, and that they sought and obtained no aid from human power in the prosecution of their extraordinary undertaking. It is a fact, that the experiment of Christianity was made in one of the most enlightened and refined periods in the history of the world, and on a theatre which laid it open to the scrutiny and detection of all Greece and Rome. It is a fact, that the first messengers of the cross entered into no Compromise with * See Tacitus, Anal. xv. 44. t See Suetonius in Claud. 25. •: See Tacitus, as above. I give Paley's translation. "But neither these exertions, nor his largesses to the people, nor his offerings to the gods, did away the infamous imputation under which Nero lay, of having ordered the city to be set on fire. To put an end therefore to this report, he laid the guilt and inflicted the most cruel punishments upon a set of people who were held in abhor rence tor their crimes, and called by the vulgar, Christians. The founder of that name was Christ, who suffered death in the reign of Tiberius, under his Procurator, Pontius Pilate. The pernicious superstition, thus checked for a while, broke out again, and spread not only over Judea, where the evil originated, but through Rome also, whither every thing bad upon earth finds its way, and is prac tised. Some who confessed their sect were first seized ; and after wards, by their information, avast multitude were apprehended, who were convicted, not so much of the crime of burning Rome, as of hatred to mankind. Their sufferings and their execution were aggravated by insult and mockery, for some were disguised in the skins of wild beasts and worried to death by dogs, some were cruci fied, and others were wrapt in pitched shirts and set on fire when the days closed, that they might serve as lights to illuminate the night. Nero lent his own gardens for these executions; and exhibited at the same time a mock Circensian entertainment, being a spectator of the whole in the dress of a charioteer, sometimes mingling with the crowd on foot, and sometimes viewing the spec tacle from his car. This conduct made the sufferers pitied; and though they were criminals, and deserving the severest punishments, yet they were considered as sacrificed, not so much out of regard to the public good, as to gratify the cruelty of one man" § " Ingens multitudo," a vast multitude, is the historian's expres sion. I insert the whole letter according to Milner's translation, though he has not preserved the full force of the original in his rendering of this expression. " C. Pliny to Trajan, Emperor. " Health. — It is my usual custom, Sir, to refer all tilings of which I harbour any doubts to you- For who can better direct my judgment in its hesitation, or instruct my understanding in its ignorance ? I never had the fortune to be present at any examina tion of Christians before I came into this province. I am, there fore, at a loss to determine what is the usual object either of inquiry or of punishment, and to what length either of them is to be carried. It has also been with me a question very problematical, whether any distinction sliould be made between the young and the old, the tender and the robust ; — whether any room should be given for repentance, or the guilt of Christianity once incurred is not to be expiated by the most unequivocal retraction ; — whether the name itself, abstracted from any flagitiousness of conduct, or the crimes connected with the name, be the object of punishment. In the mean time, this has been my method, with respect to those who were brought before me as Christians. I asked them whether they were Christians : if they pleaded guilty, I interrogated them twice afresh, with a menace of capital punishment. In case of obstinate perseverance, I ordered them to be executed. For of this I had no doubt, whatever was the nature of their religipn, that a sullen, and obstinate inflexibility called for the vengeance of the magis trate. Some where infected with the same madness whom, on account of their privilege of citizenship, I reserved to be sent to Rome to be referred to your tribunal. In the course of this busi ness, informations pouring in, as is usual when they are encouraged, more cases occurred. An anonymous libel was exhibited wiili a catalogue of names of persons, who yet declared that they were not Christians then, or ever had been ; and they repeated after me an invocation of the gods and of your image, which, for this purpose, I bad ordered to be brought with the images of the deities ;— they performed sacred rites with wine and frankincense, and execrated Christ ; none of which things, I am told, a real Christian ca-i ever be compelled to do. On this account I dismissed them. Others, named by an informer, first affirmed, and then denied the charge of Christianity ; declaring that they had been Christians, but had ceased to be so ; some three years ago, others still longer, some even twenty years ago. All of them worshipped your image and the statues of the gods, and also execrated Christ. And this was the account which they gave of the nature of the religion they once had professed, whether it deserves the name of crime or error ;— namely, that they were accustomed, on a stated day, to meet before day-light, and to repeat among themselves an hymn to Christ as to a god, and to bind themselves by an oath, with an obligation of not commiting any wickedness, but, on the contrary, of abstaining from thefts, robberies, and adulteries ; — also of not violating their pro mise, or denying a pledge ; — after which, it was their custom to separate, and meet again at a promiscuous harmless meal, from which last practice they however desisted after the publication of my edict, in which, agreeably to your orders, I forbade any socie ties of tliat sort ; on which account, I judged it the more necessary to inquire, by toutuue, from two females, who were said to be deaconesses, what is the real truth. But nothing could I collect, except a depraved and excessive superstition. Deferring, there fore, any further investigation, I determined to consult you ; for the number of culprits is so great, as to call for serious consulta tion. Many persons are informed against, of every age, and both sexes ; and more still will be in the same situation. The contagion of the superstition hath spread, not only through cities, but even villages and the country. Not that I think it impossible to check and to correct it. The success of my endeavours hitherto forbids such desponding thoughts ; for the temples, once almost desolate, begin to be frequented, and the sacred solemnities, which had long been intermitted, are now.attended afresh ; and the sacrificial vic tims are now sold everywhere, which once could scarce find a pur chaser. Whence I conclude, that many might be reclaimed were the hope of impunity, on repentance, absolutely confirmed. " The Emperor Trajan's reply to Pliny. " You have done perfectly right, my dear Pliny, in the inquiry which you have made concerning^ Christians. For truly no one general rule can be laid down which will apply itself to all cases. These people must not be sought after : if they are brought before you and convicted, let them be capitally punished, yet with this restriction, that if any renounce Christianity, and evidence his sincerity by supplicating our gods, however suspected he may be for the past, he shall obtain pardon for fhe future, on his repent ance. But anonymous libels in no case ought to be attended to ; for the precedent would be of the worst sort, and perfectly incon gruous to the maxims of my government. " * See Plin. Epist. Lib. x. Ep. 91. t " The rapidity and extent of the propagation of the gospel were such as to prove its divine origin. On the very first day of its pro mulgation, three thousand were converted ; these soon increased to five thousand. Multitudes, both of men and women, were after wards daily added to tbe new religion. Before the end of thirty years, the gospel had spread through Judea, Galilee, Samaria, almost all the numerous districts of Lesser Asia ; through Greece, and the Islands of the iEgean Sea, and the sea-coast of Africa, and had passed on to the capital of Italy. Great multitudes believed at Antioch in Syria, at Joppa, Ephesus, Corinth, Thessalonica, Bertea, lconium,Derbe, Antioch in Pisidia, at Lydda and Saron. Converts also, are mentioned at Tyre, Csesarea, Troas, Athens, Philippi, Lystra, Damascus. Thus far the sacred narrative conducts us. The religion being thus widely diffused, the New Testament carries us no further. But all ecclesiastical and profane history concurs in describing the rapid progress of the new doctrine. Tacitus, Sueto nius, Juvenal, Pliny, Martial, Marcus Aurelius, sufficiently testify the propagation of Christianity." — See Bishop Wilson's Evidences, vol. i. p. 260, 12mo. A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. 181 the vices and corruptions ofmankind, but thatthey denounced every system of evil, and sought only to win men's applause by bringing them to perceive and acknowledge the exquisite loveliness of truth, and by teaching them to submit to a course ol religious and moral discipline, which made them kind and forgiving, peaceful and holy. It is a fact, that the doc trine taught by the Apostles of Jesus of Nazareth was, in many respects, new; that it proclaimed facts of a strictly miraculous nature; that it sternly opposed every existing system of religion ; that it rebuked and condemned those vices and depraved habits which universally prevailed ; that, nevertheless, it rapidly spread, and that in less than three centuries it subverted the religion of pagan Rome, and es tablished itself on the throne ofthe Caesars. Had Christianity been adapted to the depraved inclinations of the human heart ; had it flattered men's pride, ambition, and vain-glory ; had it promised or secured worldly honour and prosperity ; had it been hailed by the great and noble of mankind ; had it been supported by human power, and de fended by the swords and shields of the earth ; had conquer ing armies been its heralds, and the spoils of enemies its re wards ; its success would then have been no mystery, and its triumphs would then have afforded no proof of supernatural interference. But if the reverse of all this was the case; if Christianity had nothing in it to pamper human corruption ; nothing to administer to the pride ofthe human heart; nothing to present to its disciples in the shape of worldly allurement; nothing to draw around it men of high renown ; nothing of power to terrify or subdue ; nothing to support the courage of its professors but the testimony of a good conscience and the hopes of a better life ; what shall be said if after all it triumphed ? Yes, if while it opposes itself to all the world it prevail, what shall be said ? if in the absence of all the ordi nary causes and weapons of success it prevail, what shall be said ? Let us look at the facts of this case, and impartially determine if there was any thing merely human* in the ori ginal agencies of Christianity to account for the results which followed their employment. The results are these : the whole Roman empire, in a few short years, was pervaded by the gospel ; multitudes of Jews and Pagans were won over to the sincere belief of the facts of Christianity ; the very aspects and institutions of society were completely changed and re-modelled by the new doctrine ; — the flames of perse cution were borne with exemplary fortitude, patience, and forgiveness ; the cause triumphed by means of its very disas ters ; and the power which attempted to crush it at last yielded to its mysterious influence. Such are the results; and what are the apparent agencies by which they were effected? The doctrine of one who w,as crucified at Jerusalem between two thieves, the preaching 'of a few illiterate fishermen of Galilee, and tbe exemplary zeal and consistency of those who ranked themselves as the disci ples of the cross. If, then, the agencies of Christianity were merely human, or if they were nothing more than a system of deliberately adjusted imposture, how comes it to pass that there was so little in theapparent process to account for the effect produced? If all was of man, how did it happen that he constructed a scheme in the very teeth of human prejudice? and, more than this,how did it happen that a scheme so constructed obtained a footing among mankind? Was it so easy a thing to subvert Jewish prejudice, in the very city of Jerusalem, and to silence the oracles of heathenism where they had ruled with despotic sway, that twelve fishermen, just quitting their nets, and de- ' termining to become the founders of a new religion, should be deemed equal to the task? Let such a case be imagined to take place in our own age and nation. Forif Christianity, be not from heaven, nothing forbids the success of such another experiment on the credulity of mankind now any more than formerly. But does any one in his sober senses believe that it would succeed, or that it would produce even any conside rable impression? We have had, it is true, occasional excite ment produced by certain extravagant persons, but their par tial success has mainly depended upon their appeal to the ge neral data of Christianity, and upon their professed adherence to its cardinal doctrines. We might challenge all the philo sophers who ever lived to invent or to propagate any impos ture answeringto the character of Christianity. The thingis impossible. Its facts and its success are solitary examples in the history of our world. Paganism and the religion of Jhe False Prophet have nothing in common with them * The * " No religion, purely as a religion," observes Dr. Wilson, the present Bishop of Calcutta, " was ever propagated but thq Christian, former accumulated its materials by a progressive departure from all right notions of the moral character of God, and by its marked coincidence with every thing base and polluted in hu man nature; and the latter was propagated at«the edge of the sword, and amidst all those promises of sensual indulgence which are so grateful to a nature prone to the love of sin. — But Christianity stood forth in the spotless purity of its divine Author, and refused to own any as its true discipleswho re mained under the dominion of their crimes. .It assailed men with none of the weapons of human power, but ma"9e its tri umphant appeal to the understanding and the heart. It boast ed of no earthly patronage; but went forth in a secret and hid den power, which was " mighty to the pulling down of strong holds." All weakness in its exterior agencies, it became " the wisdom of God, and the power of God to the salvation" of thousands and tens of thousands who embraced its merci ful provisions. It changed the very faee of society, and ef fected revolutions in the manners, customs, and laws of man kind, which all other systems had failed to achieve. It is un philosophical in the highest degree to trace its early preva lence to the mere influence of ordinary and secondary causes. There is no problem of the world's history bearing the least resemblance to it. The experience of mankind supplies no il lustration of any thing like the successes of Christianity spring ing from mere human instrumentality, whether well or ill di rected. Must men then acknowledge a miracle in their zeal to get rid of a miraculous history? This is indeed very pre posterous; but it is nevertheless the condition to which those reduce themselves who would attempt to account for the mighty revolution produced by Christianity upon mere natu ral principles. They discard the doctrine of miracles, they repudiate the testimony by which the miraculous facts of the Gospel are handed down to mankind; but they call upon their disciples to believe, without a title of evidence, that the fish ermen of Galilee could have done all that they did, and that Christianity could have gained all its conquests, without the slightest aid from heaven, nay, though imposture and decep tion were written on the entire undertaking. We demand of them an illustrative example, and we are sure that they can not produce it. In the absence, then, of all experience to guide our course, and in opposition to all enlightened calcu lations of what human agency can effect, in certain given in stances, we are called upon by infidels to believe that the early successes of Christianity might he traced to the opera tion of secondary causes.* To the mind of any unprejudiced person, this will present all the startling difficulty of a mira cle, without any of that credible testimony by which alone a miracle can be shown to have taken place. It is nothing short of an insult offered to my understanding, first to pfcint me to the great moral and intellectual revolution which was produced by Christianity, within a very short pe riod of the death of its founder, and then to assign as its sole cause, the zeal, energy, and talent ofthe fishermen of Gali lee; and the credulity, love of novelty, and versatility which obtain among mankind. Upon every sceptical theory, the early triumphs of the gos pel are not only unaccounted for, but totally unaccountable. Such a change was never wrought by mere human means. Heathenism was never a matter of dissemination or conversion. It had no creed, no origin distinct from the corrupt traces of a remote fabulous antiquity. It was a creature of human mould, contrived for the sake of human legislation. The Greeks aud Romans imposed it not on their subject nations. Mabomedanism was the triumph ofthe sword. Conquest, not religious faith, was its manifest object; rapine, violence, and bloodshed were its credentials. " No religion was ever attempted to be spread through the world by the means of instruction and persuasion, with an authority of its own, but Christianity. The idea never came into the mind of man to propagate a religion having for its set design and exclusive object the enlightening of mankind with a doctrine professedly divine, till Christianity said to her disciples, " Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature. " See " the Evidences of Chris tianity stated, &c. &c," in two vols. 12mo. Second edition, pp. 259, 260. * The reader will perceive that the author has not taken any dis tinct notice of Gibbon's attempt to trace the success of Christianity to the influence of second causes. The reason is simply this, that he deemed it better to pursue the arjjument without encumbering it by any specific reference to fhe special pleadings and inconclusive rea sonings of that great but unhappy day. The objections, however, have been met, though they have not been alluded to; and, indeed, it -is a matter of just surprise that arguments so weak and futile should have ever been raised to the notoriety of a grave refutation. Those who wish to see this sceptical philosopher exhibited in his proper light, are recommended to read the Rev. A. Reed's discourse on "The Evidence of Revelation derived from the success ofthe Gospel." See Note, p. 182. 182 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. The entire experience of the race, and all the great facts of history, combine to show the utter irrationality of supposing that a few obscure fishermen and mechanics could have baf fled all the wisdom of the wise, brought to nothing the coun sei of the prudent, and levelled in the dust the mightiest fabrics of superstition and vice. But when we admit the doctrine of a supernatural influ ence, according to the distinct announcements of Christianity itself, we are reminded of a cause adequate to produce the effects witnessed. Then we wonder not that the weakest in struments should prevail, that disaster should lead to triumph, and that the blood of the martyrs should be the seed of the church. If the mighty power of God was with the apostles, no wonder that thousands and tens of thousands should be come obedient to their message. If the quickening energy of the living Spirit was seen, on the one hand, in external signs and wonders, rendering all gainsayers inexcusable ; and, on the other, in inward, powerful, and all-subduing movements of the heart and conscience, what wonder was it if the con gregated multitudes of Pentecoste trembled, repented, and turned to God ; andif the Pagan world responded to the mighty and gracious impulse ? By the nature of the facts to be ac counted for, then, no less than by the actual data of Christi anity, are we driven to the conclusion, that there was an in terior and hidden but all controlling power, which accompa nied and rendered effectual the first propagation of Christian ity, which has watched over it from age to age, and which occasions all its success and all its blessed influence in the day in which we live. I conclude this branch of evidence in the language of an eloquent living author : — " Here is a re ligious system, denominated Christian, which enters the world at a most inauspicious period, supposing it to be an imposture. It has not one principle in common with the re ligions which then prevailed. It is attempted to be propa gated by a few persons who are signally disqualified for the undertaking, and are hated of all nations. It is opposed, from the very first, by Jew and Gentile, and chiefly by those who had most power and influence in their bands. Moreover, this religion is hostile to human opinion, human prejudice, human interest, human nature ; and this is apparent from the admit ted nature of man and the avowed principles ofthe gospel, as well as from the facts, that when men have been induced to adopt the Christian name, they have remained at enmity to the Christian faith, and that there has been, in every age, a predominant disposition to misunderstand and misrepresent, to pervert and degrade it. Yet has this religion been propa- ' gated over the earth with a facility altogether unparalleled by any art or science. Yet has it found a place for itself in ma ny a mind and country, to which the simplest mathematical demonstrations are at this moment unsolved problems. " What is tbe conclusion ? It is — it must be this — that the religion of Christ could not have been propagated by any earthly power — that it could not have been propagated by any mere external agency of Providence — that it could have been propagated only by a spiritual and supernatural influence ad dressed to the perceptions and affections of men, — and there fore that the religion of Christ is divine, and its propagation through all ages is a distinct, independent, and speaking evidence of its divinity."* 5. The Evidence derived from a survey ofthe moral and social benefits conferred on mankind by Christianity- This branch of evidence may be treated, like tbe prece ding one, as a question simply of fact. For if it can be shown that Christianity has done more than all other causes com bined to augment the resources of man's present enjoyment ; if it can be shown that it has heightened, to an almost incon ceivable degree, all the social virtues ; if it can be shown that human nature has risen to an unheard-of elevation under its benign auspices, it will follow, as by resistless consequence, after all the fruitless experiments of Greece and Rome, that it owes its origin to the Fountain of all wisdom and benevo lence. It is a fact, then, that "the world by wisdom" never re formed itself. For the space of four thousand years effort af ter effort was made, but without avail, to reduce mankind to some standard of obedience, and to rescue them from the do minion of selfishness and crime. This process of renovation was attempted in the fairest portions of the globe, and amidst all the advantages of the highest intellectual cultivation. It * See a Discourse by tbe Rev. A. Reed, on " The Evidences of Revelation derived from the success of the Gospel," in a Volume en titled " Lectures on some ofthe Principal Evidences of Revelation delivered at the Monthly Meetings, &c." pp. 225, 226. was tried in the heart of Europe and Asia, when philosophy and arts had reached their greatest eminence, and when the human mind had been nurtured in the schools to prodigious greatness. In a thousand forms the task of bettering man's moral condition had been tried, but without even the shadow of success. Many of the precepts, indeed, of the heathen philosophers were good ; but the motives urged by them were sometimes absurd, often vicious, and always powerless upon the great mass of the people. Their own standard of morals, in not a few instances, was glaringly defective; and as it res pected the community at large, the theories of the schools did not so much as reach even the outward ear. In all their pomp and magnificence, when poetry, and painting, and statuary, and arms, and empire had reached . the very zenith of their glory, Greece and Rome were as little purged from crime and moral degradation as were the savage hoards of the north, who, in wild fury, broke in upon the empress ofthe world's destiny. The extreme of* refinement, and the extreme of moral turpitude, met on the same theatre, and in tbe same actors. A base and monstrous idolatry every where prevailed, and every where associated itself with crimes which are reserved in Christian countries for the worst of men, and for the most hidden recesses ofthe basest and most degraded ofmankind. " It is a shame even to speak of those things which were done of them in secret." The very tem ples of the gods were the dwelling-places of sin. There virgin innocence was sacrificed at the shrine of the most scandalous lusts ; there human victims were immolated upon the blood-stained altars of a vile and unmeaning idolatry ; and there every species of impurity and heartless cruelty re ceived the sanction of a priesthood whose hands reeked with blood, and whose hearts were steeped in impenitence and covetous desire. It is a fact, too, that all other nations have shown the same propensities, and have been distinguished by the same moral habits as Greece and Rome. It might have been supposed, indeed, that they would have been much more vicious ; and that in proportion as they receded from the schools of philosophy, and from the sphere of the arts, they would put on a hue of pollution far deeper and more hideous. This, however, is by no means the case. The crimes of classic antiquity have never been exceeded in the African hoard, or in the Polynesian wild. Idolatry, human sacrifice, polygamy, female degradation, have everywhere abounded in heathen lands; while there stands not upon the record of this world's history one solitary instance of a nation rising, by its own energy, from the wor ship of false gods, or from the moral debasement and crimes which it uniformly involves. It is a fact, too, that Christianity did operate, and still continues to operate, a wondrous change upon the state of society. This change it produced, at first, by means the most unlikely. By preaching salvation through the cross of Christ, the first heralds of Messiah's kingdom, though in dividuals comparatively obscure, .brought about a revolution of public opinion and of outward manners such as had never been the result of any preceding attempt to enlighten and to purify mankind. In all the heathen provinces -of the Roman empire, and in the very capital itself, idolatry was every where laid aside or proscribed. The oracles of paganism were silenced by the living oracles of God ; and the horrid practices of the temples and the groves were exchanged for the decent solemnities of Christian worship, and for the sober and virtuous habits of Christian citizens. At Athens, and Corinth, and Ephesus, and, indeed, all the chief ckies of heathen antiquity, the doctrine of Christ Was the instru ment of changing and remodelling the whole frame-work of society. Wherever it reached, it meliorated human life; and wherever it was actually embraced, it ennobled and purified individual character. The limits of Christianity have been, from its first propagation to the present moment, the boundary wall beyond which idolatry has not dared, in' itsadireet forms, to pass. It has raised the standard of public morals above the most favoured models of pagan antiquity, not excepting those even of the far-famed kingdoms of Sparta and Syra cuse. Where Christianity has waved her triumphant banner, she has given birth to a state of things altogether new. The worship of dumb idols* in every palpable shape, she has ut terly abolished ; the cruel and bloody rites which were prac tised for ages and generations under the auspices ofthe gods of heathenism, have been laid aside at her enlightened and * Tbe idolatry of the Church of Rome, though practised under the Christian name, is of common origin with that ofthe Pantheon, and can be no less hateful in the sight of God. A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. 183 benevolent call ; the shameless, and even murderous, sports of the Colisseum she has frowned into total annihilation ; the destruction of slaves and of female children finds no sanction where her voice of mercy is distinctly heard ; the deprecia tion of the rights which belong to woman is no where counte nanced beneath the mild sway of the gospel ; the abominations of polygamy and capricious divorce are but little felt in any Christian state ; the vassalage of domestic slavery has ceased to foster tyranny, on the one hand, and ignoble baseness on the other;* the direful practice of private assassination,! by the dagger or by the poisoned bowl, finds no advocates in countries upon which the religion of Christ has exerted its beneficial tendency ; the horrors of war, great as they must ever be, are mitigated in a tenfold degree under the generous dictation of the gospel; the poor, -the aged and the afflicted are treated with a degree of consideration in Christian coun tries altogether unknown in pagan-lands ; and all the' rights of property and of personal safety are guaranteed, with a de gree of precision, in nations blessed with the light of re vealed truth, to which Rome, in all the glory of empire, never attained. All this is matter of fact, which no one who wishes his understanding to be respected will venture for a moment to deny. So palpably, indeed, is it such, that the traveller, blind-folded, may be able to tell' when he passes from Chris tian territories into pagan lands. The heathen world was one vast theatre of crime, relieved, indeed, by here and there some heroic example of virtuous conduct, but sunk as a whole into the abyss of moral putridity and vice. But when Chris tianity arose in the East, like some bright and" glorious lumi nary, it dispelled the darkness of the pagan world, and, in little more than two centuries from the time of its first publication, it shivered to atoms the whole system of idol worship,'recon- structed the entire fabric of society, introduced new maxims of government and of personal conduct, changed the manners and habits of mankind, drove vice from its ancient lurking places, shut the temples of the gods, abolished the sacrifices of an idolatrous priesthood, and made the hopes and fears of immortality the governing principles of thousands and tens of •thousands ofthe human race. Whence, then, sprung the power of a triumph so great, so speedy, and so benignant? — a triumph which proclaimed peace on earth, and good will to men ; a triumph bloodless. and serene ; a triumph which delivered such a large portion of the human race from the vassalage' of the most cruel and abominable idolatries ; a triumph which issued in a meliora tion in all the social relations of man which the wisdom of this world could never produce ? Whence, I ask, sprung the power of such a triumph ? Not from man assuredly ; for it was unlike all the other manifestations of his mental charac ter; and it was followed by such benign and holy results that it stood solitary and alone upon the page of this world's history. Nor wa.s there any thing whatever in its origin to indicate the wisdom of man. Had man constructed a scheme of moral renovation, it would have been introduced to the no tice of his fellow-creatures in a way very different from that in which Christianity began its auspicious career. Let two considerations then fully possess the mind, and it will be impossible to resist the conclusion, that Christianity is frOm heaven. In the first place, recollect that of all agencies that could be contemplated, the first heralds of the cross were the least likely to succeed in the proposed undertaking of con verting the world ; and, in the second place, bear in mind, as a matter of fact, that in spite of prejudice, in spite of a huge system of idolatry, in spite of all interest and power and terror, they did succeed in such manner as never before had been-known; and in doing so changed the whole face of so ciety, purified all the springs of human action, established the reign of peace and happiness, drove idolatry from the high places ofthe earth, and to the full extent of their triumph, paved the way for the realization of another paradise. The power which scattered so much darkness, and which spread so much light ; which wrought a change on mankind so pure and beneficial ; which diffused such a mass of happi ness, and checked such a mighty current of misery ;' which, like an electric shock, blasted and withered all the ancient fabrics of idolatry, and on their ruins erected a system of doc trine and a form of worship which promised and yielded peace and joy and happiness to all the dwellers upon earth, such a power as this could only have emanated from that throne from which issued originally the high behests of creation. And, 0 ! if a triumph which can yet only be regarded as partial, affords such intimation of the benevolent interposition ofthe Infinite Mind, what an evidence ofthe divine origin of Christianity will be supplied to mankind when its moral transformations are complete, when all nations are subjected to its righteous sway, when its disciples shall drink more deeply into its pure and benignant spirit, when that blessed influence which is now partial shall be universal, ahd when the church of the living God, vocal with his praise, shall re flect with sweetest lustre the radiance of his moral image. Great as were the first triumphs of the gospel, there can he no doubt but that greater triumphs yet await its peaceful heralds. In the morning of its strength it subdued the Ro man empire, and stood confessed the prevailing religion of the civilized world ; but the time is fast approaching when it shall be proclaimed the religion of the whole earth, and when the mighty changes it shall work. in the opinions, manners, and . hopes ofmankind, shall compel the most thoughtless of a re bellious race to exclaim, " this is the finger of God !" Then when "the people shall be all righteous," and When the Spirit of God shall be " poured out upon all flesh," shall it be seen that Christianity is the balm of bleeding hearts, the parent of peace and good will, and the angel of God's mercy to heal all the miseries and vices of an apostate race. * In ancient Attica there were 450,000 inhabitants, out of which population only 40,000 are said to have been free. It is a dreadful blot upon the character of this country, that still she permits eight hundred thousand British subjects to be bought and sold, in the colo nies, at the will of their masters. Christians should combine, as Such, and seek the immediate removal from the land of this crying sin. Alas ! tliat any of the American states should be found, to this day, engaged in the slave traffic! Surely the word liberty must freeze upon the tongues of such Americans, and surely Christianity itself can be known among them only as a name . t It was no uncommon thing for a Roman prcetor to convict, in one short season, in Italy, three or four thousand individuals for tie crime of private assassination; and among these, husbands were often con demned for the secret murder of their wives in order to obtain then- dowry ; and wives for the murder of their husbands in order to se cure a union to the miscreants who had seduced them from the paths of virtue. CHAPTER IV. On the Transmission of the Sacred Books. Though Christianity be a divine religion, it may be possi-" bie, in the lapse of ages, that the record which discloses its leading doctrines and facts has undergone some serious mu tilation. Is this or is it not the case ? This is an important inquiry, and it admits of an easy and'satisfactory reply ; a re ply which must carry conviction to every candid mind as to the genuineness, authenticity, and incorruptness of the Sacred Books. That they were written by the men- whose names they bear is a thing quite as well established as that the jEneid was composed by Virgil, the Iliad by Homer, and the Cyropaedia by Xenophon. The very literary character of the Old and New Testament Scriptures would go far to prove that they are genuine productions. They exhibit a diversity of style, which shows that they were written by various authors, and they display an idiomatic peculiarity corresponding to the ages and circumstances in which they were written. Thus, in the Pantateuch we meet with a slight mixture of Egyptian words, as might be expected if Moses was the writer ; while in the books of Ezra, Nehemiah, and Esther, there is a con siderable infusion of Chaldee and Persian, connecting them beyond all reasonable doubt with a period in Jewish history subsequent to the Babylonish captivity. If, moreover, we turn to the New Testament, we find its several parts written in a species of Greek partaking largely of Hebrew, Chaldee, Syriac, and Latin words and phrases, a circumstance exactly answering to all that might have been anticipated upon the supposition that men in the precise condition of the Evan gelists and Apostles had furnished their contents. Nor is it within the range of probability4o imagine for a mo ment that the sacred books are forgeries. If they are, then they must have been palmed upon the world by persons whose imposture could not be detected. But how could this occur in the matter of giving currency to the records of a public faith ? Take, for instance, the Books of the Old Testament Scriptures. If they are not genuine productions, I ask who were the parties concerned in the iniquitous forgery ? It could not be the men of heathen antiquity, for they were im- 184 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. perfectly acquainted with the national peculiarities and rites of the Hebrews ; and were not likely, moreover, to stamp the seal of their approbation upon records which accredited the posterity of Abraham as God's peculiar people, and condemn ed the whole Gentile world as sunk in a state of idolatry and crime. It could not be the followers of Christ, for it is mat ter of undoubted historical certainty that the Scriptures of the Jews existed many centuries before the Christian name was ever heard of. It could not be the Jews themselves, for never was there a more uncompromising exposure of the crimes, idolatries, and righteous chastisements of a rebellious and guilty nation than that which they contain. If we look at the New Testament, it is equally unreasona ble to suppose that it is not a genuine production, and that it was not actually written by the men to whonrit is attributed. Unbelieving Jews and Gentiles were happily, in this instance the guardians of revelation ; for as they were equally opposed to the doctrine of Him whom they had combined to cruoify, and as they were both zealous in persecuting all who ranked themselves as his humble and devoted followers, it stands to reason, that if the records of the Christian faith had not been genuine narratives of facts, furnished by the very men who assume to be the writers, the dishonest effort would have been detected and exposed, and the whole world, and all succeed ing generations, would have been warned against the iniqui tous attempt to originate a history not founded in fact. The genuineness of the Books of Scripture was never called In question by friends or enemies. From the earliest periods ofthe Jewish history downwards, the Hebrews regarded their 'sacred Books as their peculiar treasure, and associated them all with their several authors and ages ; and, in like manner, the Christians, from the apostolic age to the present moment, have had a regular succession of writers, who have quoted and authenticated, in various ways, the Books which compose the New Testament canon. It is an interesting fact that Celsus, and Porphyry, and Julian, and an endless race of heretics, combine with the apostolic and Christian fathers, Barnabas, Clement, Ignatius, Polycarp, Justin Martyr,- Ter tullian, Origen, and Eusebius, in accrediting the Books of Scripture as genuine productions. The most inveterate op ponents of revelation have been compelled to admit the fact that the Bible is no forgery. Nor is there the slightest reason to suspect that the Scrip-: tures have undergone any material alteration, or that they are not now in the same condition in which they were when they came from Moses and the prophets, the evangelists and apos tles. To say that the original Hebrew 'and Greek manu scripts of the Bible, or that the ancient versions and transla tions, had not been deviated from in a single particular, would be to assume a position ioo lofty. In the process of trans cribing some thousands of copies, before the art of printing was discovered, letters and syllables, and even words, without the intervention of a miracle, must have been left out. But that there has been any serious or fraudulent omission or in terpolation, or that any one. doctrine has been added or sub tracted, cannot be shown by any enemy of revelation, and need not he apprehended by any humble-minded or unlettered- Christian. As it respects the Old Testament Scriptures, it is a well- established fact that the Jews were their faithful guardians. They were often employed, indeed, in the act of transcribing them, but so strict were they in comparing the copies with the originals, that they numbered both the words and letters. That the Jews never altered their sacred Books is triumphant ly proved by the fact that neither their' own prophets nor Jesus Christ, though they laid many a heavy charge at their door, ever once intimated that they were guilty of such mutt 1 lation. The Great Teacher, indeed, told them, with the ut most fidelity, that they had made void "The commandment of God by their traditions," but he never insinuates that they had corrupted the Sacred Books. " It is one of the wonders of providence, that God, for the preservation of these books, should make use of that scrupulous, and I might say, almost superstitious, care that was among those Jews whose office it was to keep the Books of the Old Testament."* Among the one thousand me hundred and fifty manuscripts and versions of the Old Testament which are still extant, there is an essen tial agreement, an agreement most wonderful and striking, showing, beyond all conjecture or doubt, the uncorrupted pre servation of these precious records. Not is the protection less manifest which has been spread over the books of the New Testament. The early multipli cation of copies, together with the several translations into foreign tongues, rendered any serious deviation from the ori ginal manuscripts utterly impossible. Besides, in the course of one century from the period of Christ's resurrection, the gospel was spread over the greater part of the Lesser Asia, and over many portions of Africa and Europe; so that if any of the early Christians, in any particular district of the world, had attempted to alter or mutilate the sacred books, it would have been impossible that they should have escaped detection among the many disciples of Christ spread over other sections of the globe. The early heresis, too, which sprung up among the profess ed followers of Jesus, rendered the corruption of the sacred books next to an impossibility. " That passage of the apos tle," observes the immortal Howe, "is not greatly enough pondered according to the weightiness of the expression, that there must be heresies. This great use that hath been of the divisions in Christian' churches, is not, it may be, considered as it should be by'many. But nothing can carry a clearer evidence and demonstration with it than that, because of those divisions, any depravation of the said records £that is, any material, general, successful, continued depravation) is alto- * See John Howe's Lectures on the oracles of God. 'Works, one vol. imperial octavo, just publislied, p. 1075. The whole passage referred to is as follows: "It was known they used to count all the letters of the Old Testament, that they might be sure never to miss a letter. Again, in transcribing copies, (which was frequent, j every copy was always examined by an appointed number of their wise men, as they termed them. Further, if any copy should have been found, upon examination, to have four or five faults in it, in one copy ofthe whole Old Testament, that book was presently adjudged to be buried in the grave of one or other of their wise men. And, lastly, for tliose books that, upon examination, were found to be punctually true, it was very plain from the history of those times, that there was the greatest reverence paid to them imaginable. They never used to touch those perfect copies (taking them into their hands) without kissing them solemnly, nor to lay them down again without solemn kissing of them. They were never used to sit upon the place where one of those books were wont to be laid. If one of them by casualty fell to the ground, they appointed a solemn fast to be kept for it, as an ill-boding thing, that such a thing- should happen. So that it is most plain that these keepers ofthe Books of the Old Tes tament could never have it in design to corrlipt any Of them ; but it was. that which they did abhor above all things. And it was a prin ciple (as Philo tells us, and Josephus much to the same purpose) in stilled into the youth of that nation, and even those of the best qua lity, that they should run -the utmost hazard, and incur a thousand deaths, rather than they should suffer any alteration or diminu tion of those books, or that any of them should be lost in any other way. And then, b'esidcs all this scrupulous care of the keeper's" of the books ofthe Old Testament (with which a design of corrupting would no way consist), we may add, that the thing itself was .after wards impossible. If they would before, when it was in their own hands, they could; but afterwards, if they would, they could not; be cause that in Christ and his apostles' days, a great number of them were converted to the Christian faith, who knew all the Books of the Old-Testament'as well as themselves. Therefore, it was impossible now for the Infidel Jews, those that were not converted, to make any alteration but it must be presently spied and exclaimed against; therefore- it was a vain thing for any to attempt it, after so many were converted to the Christian religion. And thereupon we may further add, that the testimonies that were contained in these books against themselves, and with which contained in them they are trans mitted to us, do show that they never went about to corrupt them. The many- testimonies against idolatry contained in-these books, whereby their forefathers from age to age, for many ages, werewit- nessed" against, would have induced them to expunge all things that were, therein contained against idolatry (so tender were they of their reputation), if there had not been a great awe upon their minds never to, attempt , the corrupting or the alteration of any tiling in those books. The wickedness of their forefathers was, in these books, so highly remonstrated against, in respect of the testimonies they so of ten gave against their idolatry, and yet these books we find in- their own hands, with these testimonies iii them, against the Jews and their forefathers, for many foregoing ages, through sundry times and divers intervals, though we do' not find after the second temple that people relapsed into tliat crime. And then there is the fullest testi mony against their infidelity in these books thatcan be. "Who would not wonder that these books should come out of the hands of the Jews, with these testimonies, in the great controversy between the Christians and them? that is, of Christ being the Messiah, in which you have so punctual assertions against them that nothing can be more. Those many testimonies that do concern the Messiah, par ticularly that famous prophecy, that the sceptre should not depart from Judah till Shilo should come, and those numerous presages in many of the latter prophets, (Isaiah especially, and sundry others,) make it one of the greatest wonders of Providence that such a book should come, with these things iu it, out of men's hands, against' whom they are a continual remonstrance. But, however, this proves that they did never design any alteration; either they saw it impos sible for one while, and before that, they had no inclination or in ducement that would be prevailing with them to go about it, that is, that there should be an alteration with design." / A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. 185 gether impossible; because the one party would be continu ally declaiming and crying out against the other ; and then how would it be espied ?"* Indeed, it may be safely affirmed, that the Christians were never charged by their bitterest enemies with the crime of mutilating their Scriptures, and that these sacred records have suffered less from transcribers, copyists, and translators, than any other documents of a remote antiquity. " It is true, that in translations, persons have laboured to serve their own purposes, by translating this way and that, as they thought fit. But for alteration of copies, that is what never entered into the mind of any body to attempt; which is a thing so easily spied out, that nothing is more so ; and so must needs blast and dissever the cause and interest of that party it was designed to serve, and therefore could never be. And the impossibility of any such alteration it is easy for any man that us'eth his understanding to apprehend from a similar instance. And thus, do but take any one people that are un der the same government, and that have their laws, by which they are governed, -digested into some system or other ; as, for instance, our statute book ; why, suppose very ill-minded men in the nation should have a design to corrupt and alter the statute-book, every one would see it to be impossible. Which way would they go to work to impose a false statute book upon a nation, wherein every man's right and property is concerned? And if any such should have such a design, they would soon give it up, as finding it impossible, and a thing not to be done, and therefore a vain thing to attempt. But the difficulty is a thousand times greater of making de signed alteration of those sacred books and records that are spread so unspeakably further than a nation, and wherein the concernments of all that have them in their hands are recorded, not temporal only,1 but eternal. Here is their all for eternity, another world ! So that it must be altogether impossible that theTe could have heen such a thing effected ; and therefore it is the most unlikely thing that such a matter should ever be attempted. And then, I say, if there be that plain evidence, that for that reason these books must be the same, that they cannot have been altered with design, and consequently not materially, then it were the most unreasonable thing in all the world to expect that God could confirm it to us otherwise than he hath done, or that the nature of the thing doth admit of it; because, otherwise there must have been miracles wrought for every one to see and take notice of, nay, that would alto gether loose the. usefulness and significancy of miracles them selves, because it would make miracles so common in such a case. If every man must have a miracle to prove to him this is God's word, it would take off that particular thing for which they are only significant with men, that is, because they are rare and extraordinary things, and then they would cease to be so. It might as well be expected that every man should have a Bible reached him down by an invisible hand from heaven, as that there should be a miracle wrought to prove to him that this was the same book that was so and so con firmed and sealed in our Saviour's and his apostles' time. — And therefore I reckon that, upon the grounds that have been laid, it is very plain both that these books that were extant under the name of Scriptures in our Saviour's and his apostles' time, were of divine authority, and that the books that we now have in our hands, are the same with those books, and therefore, are of divine authority."! It is, then, a most animating consideration, that, by a vari ety of striking providences, it hath pleased Almighty God to preserve to us unmutilated and uncorrupted the very records which the first Christians held to be divine, and upon the doctrines and principles of which they were ready, in the midst, ofthe greatest dangers, to repose their eternal all. It is highly consolatory to those who have but little time and few advantages for research to be informed, upon the most indubitable evidence, that in their English Bibles they have the same precious document which was read in the first as semblies ofthe Christian church ; and that, in the multipli cation of manuscripts and translations, no serious or import ant alteration has been obtruded into the sacred text. For this fact let the humble and devout Christian bless God ; and, in the contemplation of it, let the rejecter of Revelation pause and tremble, lest peradventure he should be found fighting against God. Let this chapter be fairly weighed in connexion with what has been previously advanced on the subject of the evidences of our holy faith, and let him who still doubts say within himself — "Wherefore do I doubt?" To such a solemn in terrogatory, conscience may perhaps supply the ready and faithful response, — " How can you but doubt, while sin is blinding your perceptions and hardening your heart ?" CHAPTER V. On ihe Inspiration of the Holy Scriptures. Having glanced at the evidence which supports the conclu sion that the Bible is a Revelation from God, and having, moreover, ascertained that the books of Scripture have been transmitted to us in a pure and unadulterated form, it may now be proper to inquire into the true nature of inspiration, and to endeavour to determine to what extentthe sacred volume is entitled to the high and distinctive appellation of — " the word of God." The importance of this question is very great, for upon its answer must depend the degree of deference which is due to the Scriptures as an authoritative communication from Hea ven. It is a question which cannot be decided, I presume, by any arguments a priori, but by a direct appeal to the testimo ny of the infallible word. The real nature of inspiration, as belonging to the writers of Scripture, is a doctrine purely of Revelation ; and the only duty of a sincere inquirer in refer ence to it must be simply this, to ascertain for himself what is predicated or announced concerning it in the word of God. With this conviction on my mind, I shall not trouble my readers with any lengthened details of what others have ad vanced on the subject of inspiration, but shall, come almost immediately to the point in hand, viz., the doctrine of Scrip ture, as to the manner in which it was imparted. I must just be allowed, however, to premise, that writers of the Socinian creed have so relaxed their notions of inspira tion as to talk even ofthe inconclusive reasonings of apostles ; and that others, not of this pernicious creed, have spoken and written about degrees and kinds of inspiration until they have inadvertently weakened, on their own minds, and on the minds of others, the authority of God in the Scriptures. I would have all such writers remember, that these modified views of inspiration are of modern date, and that for full six teen hundred years they were unknown in the church of Christ. " Many considerable writers on the evidences of Christianity, of late, have satisfied themselves with proving its divine authority generally, but have tacitly, and most in consistently, given up or denied the infallibility of the books in which it is recorded. They speak of authenticity, veracity, credibility; but not inspiration. Some have limited the as sistance of the Spirit to the prophetical parts. Others have extended it to the doctrinal, but excluded the historical. Whilst many have lowered the whole notion of inspiration to a mere aid occasionally afforded to the sacred penmen. Thus the impression left on the minds of their readers has been, that the Bible is authentic indeed, and credible, and contains a revelation from God ; but that it was indited by good and pious men only, with little more of accuracy than would belong to them as faithful historians. An intermix ture of human infirmity and error is thus by no means exclud ed ; and the scriptures are considered as the work of fallible writers, doing their best, and entitled in all their main state ments to full belief, but not under that immediate and plenary influence ofthe Holy Spirit, which Tenders all they say con cerning religion, the unerring word of God."* Most ruinous to the souls of men must be such views of the blessed word of God, and most derogatory are they to that Spirit, who has not given so much as a shadow of coun tenance, in the sacred books, to such vague and sceptical notions. We ought to be jealous, not only of such latitudi- narian views of inspiration, but also of every approach to them. For my own part, after much deliberation, and I trust careful and unprejudiced examination ofthe arguments of op ponents, I have come to the conclusion, not only that the ideas contained in scripture were conveyed by the Spirit to the minds of inspired men, but that they were supernaturally guided in their diction- and in their writings. I shall not, however, bring this theory to the word of God, to seek coun tenance for it there ; but shall rather call the attention of my * Howe's Works, in one vol., p. 1076. Vol. II— Y. t Ibid. * See Bishop Wilson's Lectures on " Tho Evidences," fccc. 12mo, vol. i. p. 314- 186 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. readers to the word of God itself, that they may thence gather the true notion of inspiration. I begin, then, with that part of scripture which was in cluded in the Jewish canon, and which is known by the name of the Old Testament. And if it can be shown that the in fallible Teacher, whose divine mission has already been clearly established, fully accredits the divine authority, and'the in fallible character of that document, considered as a whole, and without a single recognised exception, an important step will have been gained towards ascertaining the perfection of the Jewish canon, and also the real nature and extent of in spiration. At an early stage in his public ministry, the Messiah an nounced, to an immense assembly of his countrymen, his views and determinations respecting their ancient Scriptures " Think not," said he, " that I am come to destroy the Law and the Prophets : I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil. For verily I say unto you, till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled." Every attentive reader of the New Testament must have discovered that the phrase " the law and the pro phets" denotes the sacred books of the Jews ; and every un prejudiced reader must perceive that the Saviour in this decla ration recognises them as an infallible standard, by which he was willing that his own pretensions should be rigidly tried On another occasion he charges those who reject him with not having the word of God abiding in them, because they believed not in him whom God the Father had sent to them ; and then he immediately adds — " Search the Scriptures ; for in them ye have eternal life ; and they are they which testify of me." " Do not think that I will accuse you to the Father : there is one that accuseth you, even Moses, in whom ye trust. For had ye believed Moses, ye would have believed me: for he, wrote of me." Here are several things to be noticed. In the first place, the Scriptures of the Jews, which did not abide in them through their unbelief, are distinctly re cognised as the word of God. In the second place, they are appealed to as a testimony from God concerning Christ, ren dering all those Jews inexcusable who rejected him. And, in the third place, they are spoken of emphatically as the wri tings, evidently including them all, and leaving no room to dispute the divine origin of their diction any more than the doctrines they contained. On many occasions, Jesus spake ofthe sacred books ofthe Jews as divinely authoritative writings. " He that believeth on me, as the Scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water." " If he called them gods, unto whom the word of God came, and the Scripture cannot be broken ; say ye of him whom the Father hath sanctified, and sent into the world, Thou blasphemest ; because I said, I am the Son of God." "Jesus saith unto them, did ye never read in the Scriptures, the stone which the builders rejected, the same is become the head of the corner : this is the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes ?" " Jesus answered and said unto them, ye do err, not knowing the Scriptures. " " Think- est thou that I cannot now pray to my Father, and he shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels ? But how then shall the Scriptures be fulfilled, that tbus it must be ?" " I was daily with you in the temple teaching, and ye took me not : but the Scriptures must be fulfilled." Now what are we to gather from this species of reference ? Why, two things — -first, that there is notthe shadow of adoubtupon fhe inspiration of any part of a document to which the infal lible Teacher made such implicit and authoritative allusion ; and, second, that simply considered as writings, the books thus referred to are the product of God's immediate inspiration Where is there any thing like a surmise that there is not as much authority in the writings as in the thoughts and ideas which they convey ? To the testimony of our Lord may be added that of his Apostles, who bore his commission, and who wrought stu pendous miracles in his name. " All Scripture," said Paul to Timothy, " is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, &c." Now, granting that the rendering of Grotius, " all divinely inspired Scripture is even profitable, &c." is the correct one, it is perfectly clear that the context main ly, if not exclusively, restricts the Apostle's declaration to the Old Testament Scriptures, — those sacred writings which Timothy had known from his infancy. The whole Scripture, in the knowledge of which this young evangelist had been trained, is here said to be given by inspiration of God ; that is, breathed by him into the minds of those holy men who were divinely and infallibly gifted to hand it forth to the church. The Apostle Peter, when speaking of the office and end of prophecy, as " a light that shmeth in a dark place," asserts, that " no prophecy of the Scripture is of any private interpre tation. For the prophecy came not in old time by the will of man ; but holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost." I cannot help thinking that an unprejudiced expositor would regard this as a distinct affirmation of the in spiration of the prophecies, both as it respects their matter and manner. As to their matter, they were not the result of any private impulse,-* and as to their manner, "holy men spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost." The pro phets are also represented, by the same Apostle, as " search ing what, or what manner of time the Spirit of Christ, which was in them, did signify, when it testified before-hand the sufferings of Christ, and the glory that should follow." From this passage it is plain that the prophets did not always, nor even frequently, understand the import of their own predic tions ; from which it may be inferred, with indubitable cer tainty, that the words in which they were couched, no less than the thoughts which they contained, were imparted by the Spirit of God ; for surely they could not have been trusted with the diction and verbiage of a communication which con fessedly they did not understand. It is upon this same principle that we find the Old Testa ment Scriptures styled " the Oracles of God," and " the lively oracles ;" to indicate, doubtless, that they were given forth by God himself. Hence the following expressions — " Now all this was done, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord, by the prophet." "How then doth David*, in. spirit, call him Lord ?" " For David himself saith by the Holy Ghost." " As he spake by the mouth of his holy pro phets, which have been since the world began." " Which the Holy Ghost spake by the mouth of iJavid." "He saith (that is God) also in another Psalm, thou shalt not suffer thine Holy One to see corruption." " Well spake the Holy Ghost, by Esaias the prophet,unto ourfathers." " Wherefore, as the Holy Ghost saith, to-day if you will hear his voice." Now all this corresponds with what we find in the Old Testament Scriptures themselves. Take the case of Moses, the great prophet and lawgiver of Israel, and the inspired author of the Pentateuch. When he was commanded to go to Pharaoh, and to lead forth the people of Israel, he entreat ed that^he might be excused from the performance of a task for which he deemed himself so utterly unqualified. His sense of weakness was, in a high degree, proper ; but his re fusal to go, when God had assured him that he would be "with him," evinced great want of faith. God reproved him for his sinful timidity, and said to him, " Who hath made man's mouth? or who maketh the dumb, or deaf, or the seeing, or the blind ? have not I the Lord ? Now, there fore, go, and I will be with thy mouth, and teach thee what thou shalt say." The leader of Israel again repeats his difficulty, and again receives a similar reply. At last his scruples are overcome by the feeling of supernatural aid, and ever after his addresses to the chosen tribes are couched in terms indicative of their immediate divine origin — " Thus saith the Lord," — "These are the words which the Lord hath commanded, that ye should do them." Had he not been conscious that the inspiration under which he wrote extended to his words as well as thoughts, would he have adopted the phraseology attributed to him in the following passages ? — "Ye shall not add unto the word which I command you, neither shall ye diminish aught from it, that ye may keep these commandments ofthe Lord your God which I command you." "And these words which I command thee this day shall be in thine heart, and thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children." "Therefore shall ye lay up these my words in your heart and in you soul, and bind them for a sign upon your head that they may be as frontlets between your eyes.' > And ye shall teach them to your children, speaking of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. And thou ' Dr. Doddridge's paraphrase is as follows : — " Knowing this first, as a matter of chief importance, that no prophecy of Scripture is of private impulse," or original : "For prophecy was not brough' ofoldtothe minds of those that uttered it by the will of man ; the' could not work themselves up to the attainment of this extraordi nary gift, nor divinely foretell what they themselves desired, and whenever they pleased ; but holy men of God, whom be honoured with that important work, spake [as they -were] borne on by the Holy Spirit ; and they were only his organs in declaring to the people what he was disposed to suggest to them." A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. 187 shalt write them upon the door posts of thine house, and upon thy gates." In like manner all the prophets represent their entire com munications as from, God; they all address themselves to the people, " Thus saith the Lord," and some of them, as in the case of Elijah to Ahab, personate the Diety, and utter his threatenings as if they were their own : " Behold I will bring evil upon thee, and will take away thy posterity ;" this was the voice, indeed, of. Elijah, but .the speaker was God. Hence the word of the" Lord is said again and again to come to the prophets, and the sweet Psalmist of Israel says, " The spirit of the Lord spake by me, and his word was in my tongue." It may, indeed, be said that, though in the prophetical and doctrinal parts of the Old Testament Scriptures the sacred writers were under the influence of a full and verbal inspira tion, this could not be necessary in furnishing the historical parts of the word of God. Now, this is a distinction which is never once made, to the best of my recollection, in the in spired volume itself; and when the vast importance of the chronological and historical details of Scripture is taken into account, in the relations which they bear to the transcendent scheme of human redemption, I think it will be regarded as futile and dangerous. Upon the whole, I am satisfied that there is no solid foundation for any theory of the inspiration of the Old Testament Scriptures which does not consider all their several parts as written under the immediate teaching of the Holy Ghost, both as to sentiment and diction. Nor is the complete inspiration of the apostles and writers of the New Testament less satisfactorily demonstrated than is that of Moses and the prophets. Such full inspiration they eminently needed, in order to the faithful execution of their responsible task. They were to be employed in raising up disciples to their risen Lord, and as the historians of his life and death ; and as the authoritative counsellors of his church in all ages, they needed " an unction from the Holy One." We find accordingly that such unction and such in fallible guidance as were necessary were distinctly promised to them. Twelve men were selected as the heralds of his kingdom, who enjoyed his familiar intercourse, and were in every way qualified for bearing witness to his doctrine, mira cles, sufferings, death, and resurrection. " Go ye," said Christ to his chosen band, " and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost; teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you ; and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world." When, during his own per sonal ministry, he sent them forth to visit the cities of Israel, he gave them this miraculous assurance, — " But when they deliver you up take no thought how or what ye shall speak ; for it shall be given you in that same hour what ye shall speak. For it is not ye that speak, but the Spirit of your Father which speaketh in you." And when our blessed Lord was about to ascend up on high arid to leave his apos tles and disciples, he delivered to them the following ani mating promises : — " And I will pray the Father, and he will "give you another Comforter, that he may, abide with you for ever; even the Spirit of Truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth him. But ye know him, for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you. The Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will sefid in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever 1 have said unto you. I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now. Howbeit, when He, the Spirit of Truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth ; for he shall not speak of himself, but whatsoever he shall hear that shall he speak ; and he will show you things to come." " Here," observes an eminent writer, " are all the degrees of inspira tion which we have seen to be necessary for the apostles ; the Spirit was to bring to their remembrance what they "had heard ; to guide them into the truth, which they were not then able to bear ; and to show them things to come ; and all this they were to derive, not from occasional lllapses, but from the perpetual inhabitation of the Spirit."* Hence we find that the apostles laid claim to that inspira tion which their divine Master had so distinctly promised. " We shall not find," as the above writer well observes, that claim formally advanced in the gospels. Thw °mi9Bion has sometimes been regarded by those superficial critics, whose preTudfocs seem toXccount for their hastcjis an objection against the existence of inspiration. But if you attend to the reason of the omission, you will perceive that it is only an instance of that delicate propriety which pervades all the New Testament The gospels are the record of the gTeat facts which vouch the truth of Christianity. These facts are to be received upon the testimony of men who had been eye witnesses of them. Tha foundation of the Christian faith being laid in an assent to these facts, it would have been pre posterous to have introduced in support of them that influence of the Spirit which preserved the minds of the apostles from , error, b or there can be no proof of the inspiration of the apostles unless the truth of the facts be previously admitted. The apostles, therefore, bring forward the evidence of Chris tianity in its natural order when they speak in the gospels as the companions and eye-witnesses of Jesus, claiming that credit which is due to honest men who had the best opportu nities of knowing what they declared. This is the language of St. John; "Many other signs did Jesus in the presence of his disciples. But these are written that ye may believe; and this is the disciple which testifieth these things."* When the following circumstances, then, are taken into account, the absence of any formal announcement of inspira tion in the gospels is no barrier in the way of admitting their full claim to this high distinction. In the first place, there was an assistance promised by our Lord, ere he left his dis ciples, which, from its very form, must have been partly at least intended to qualify his disciples for the task of record ing the history of his earthly sojourn. By that assistance they were to have " all things whatsoever the Lord said to them brought to their remembrance;" they were to be con ducted " into all truth ;" they were, to be shown the " things to come;" and Christ was to be with them always. , In the second place, we find that no distinction whatever is made, by Christ, between the authority of those whom he accredited and his own. " He that heareth you, heareth me ; and he that despiseth you, despiseth me ; and he that de spiseth me, despiseth him that sent me." This is the language which equally accredits the gospelst and the epis tles, and which renders it a high affront to the Son of God to cavil at any thing contained in -the one or the other. In the third place, we find the apostles placing their own communications on a level with those of prophets and in spired men of old. "That ye may be mindful," said the apostle Peter, " of the words which were spoken before by the holy prophets, and of the commandments of us the apos tles of the Lord and Saviour." Hence the language of the great apostle of the Gentiles : " Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ, by the will" or " commandment of God :" " Paul, an apostle, not of men, neither by man, but by Jesus Christ, and God the Father, who raised him from the dead. I neither received the gospel of man, neither was I taught it but by the revelation of Jesus Christ. When it pleased God, who separated me from my mother's womb, and called me by his grace to reveal his Son in me, that I might preach him among the heathen, immediately I conferred not with flesh and blood, neither went I up to Jerusalem to them which were apostles before, but I went into Arabia."^: In the most unequivocal forms that can be adopted, the apostles assert their inspiration in their epistolary correspond ence. " Now," said Paul, "we have received not the spirit of the world, but the spirit which is of God ; that we might know the things which are freely given us of God, which things also we speak, not in the words which man's wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teacheth." "If any man think himself to be a prophet, or spiritual, let him acknowledge that the things that 1 write unto you are the commandments of the Lord." " For this cause, also, thank we God without ceasing, because when ye received the word of God which ye * Sec- the Rev. Richard Watson's Thcolog the article "Inspiration." ical Dictionary, under * See "Watson's Theological Dictionary, on the article " Inspira tion." t It may be said, indeed, that Mark and Luke were not apostles, and that, therefore, the infallible assistance promised to such dis tinguished servants of the church did not belong to them. In reply to this, it may be stated, tliat early general tradition places Mark among those seventy disciples whom Christ sent out through the land of Israel with miraculous endowments and a promise of super natural aid ; and awards to his gospel a place among the canonical books of the New Testament ; and that Luke, who appears to have written his gospel first, (though several uninspired accounts of the history of Christ obtained before, Luke i. 1.) was the contemporary and intimate companion of Paul, (Col. iv. 14.) who, it is universally conceded, examined and approved his gospel, stamping it with apos tolic authority, and thereby ushering it into the church of Christ with the full credentials of canonical and inspired scripture. i. Gal. i. 1, IU, 15— 17, compared with Act, x.\\i. 12—18. 188 CHRISTIAN LIBRAJRY. heard of us,yereceiveditnotasthewordofmen,but, as it is in truth, the word of God." " We are of God," said the apostle John ; " he that knoweth God, heareth us : he that is not of God, heareth not us." And, speaking ofthe New Testament Church, Paul declares that it is " built upon the foundation ofthe apos tles and prophets, Jesus Christ being the chief corner stone.' Such a form of expression must have been blasphemous in the extreme, if the writings and the authority of the apostles did not stand upon an equal footing with the writings and the authority of the prophets. In all the passages which demon- trate the inspiration of the word of God, there is not one, as far as I remember, that limits the divine afflatus to the senti ments conveyed ; and, on the other hand, there are several texts which extend it, beyond all reasonable doubt, to the words which the speakers employ :* the conclusion I draw from this is, that the distinction between mental and verbal inspiration is altogether of man's devising, and that the only safe way of receiving the entire Scriptures is to regard both their sentiment ahd their language as " the word of God." There may be difficulties to some minds in this view. But what view of truth is without difficulty? If we believe no thing till we get rid of all difficulty, we shall verily soon be in the condition of believing nothing. Some have said, if inspiration be plenary and verbal, how can the difference of style among the several writers of Scrip ture be accounted for ? My reply is, that the Spirit of God was as capable of influencing the mind of a prophet or an apostle in coincidence with his own taste, predilections, and education, as in opposition to them. If the inspiration is ad mitted at all, there need, therefore, be no doubt or perplexity here. I may just add, however, and though there is a strik ing variety in the diction of the inspired writers, there is, at the same time, an inexpressible peculiarity attaching to the books of Scripture at large, which distinguishes them from all apocryphal and uninspired productions in the several ages to which they belong. The individuality of the writers is in deed preserved; but the individuality ofthe divine agency is not less conspicuous. " Is it not evident," observes an eminent divine, " that God may exercise a perfect superintendency over inspired writers as to the language they shall use, and yet that each one of them shall write in his own style, and in all. respects according to his own taste? May not God give such aid to his servants, that, while using their own style, they will certainly be secured against all mistakes, and ex hibit the truth with perfect propriety ? It is unquestionable that Isaiah, and St. Paul, and St. John might be under the entire direction of the Holy Spirit, even as to language ; and, at the same time, that each one of them might write in his own manner ; and that the peculiar manner of each might be adapted to answer an important end ; and that the variety of style thus introduced into the sacred volume might be suited to excite a livelier interest in the minds of men, and to se cure to them a far greater amount of good than could ever have been derived from any. one mode of writing. " If we should admit that the divine superintendence and guidance afforded to the inspired writers had had no relation at all to the manner in which they exhibited either doctrines or facts; how easily might we be disturbed with doubts in regard to the propriety of some of their representations ? We should most certainly consider them as liable to all the inad vertencies and mistakes to which uninspired men are com monly liable ; and we should think ourselves perfectly justified in undertaking to charge them with real errors and faults as to style, and to show how their language might have been improved ; and, in short, to treat their writings just as we treat the writings of Shakspeare and Addison. ' Here,' we might say, 'Paul was unfortunate in the choice of words; and here his .language does not express the ideas which he must have intended to convey.' ' Here the style of St. John was inadvertent; and here it was faulty ; and here it would have been more agreeable to the nature of the subject, and would have more accurately expressed the truth, had it been altered thus.' If the language of tbe sacred writers did not in any way come under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, and if they were left, just as other writers are, to their own un aided faculties in regard to every thing which pertained to the manner of writing, then, evidently, we might use the same freedom in animadverting upon their style as upon the style of other writers. ¦ But who could treat the volume of inspira tion in this manner without impiety and profaneness? And rather than make any approach to this, who would not choose to go to an excess, if there could be an excess, in reverence for the word of God."* To these excellent remarks I would add, that he who ob jects to the doctrine of verbal inspiration on account of the variety of style which obtains among the sacred writers, might, on the same principle, object to mental inspiration on account of the variety of thought by which they are equally dis tinguished. It is in receiving "all Scripture as given by inspiration of God" that the mind finds repose from those endless suspicions which must assail tliose who regard the Bible as the word of God as to doctrine, but the word of man as to the channel of conveyance. CHAPTER VI. Some popular objections to the full inspiration ofthe Holy Scrip tures^ 1. It has been objected, that if the inspiration ofthe Scrip tures be plenary and verbal, it will then follow, that the im proper and wicked sayings of bad men, and even devils, which are introduced in Scripture, must lay claim to an immediate inspiration. The answer to this Very flimsy difficulty is sim ply this, — that though, in such cases, the Holy Spirit dicta ted to inspired men the very woTds which were uttered by the sinful agents referred to, he dictated them not as his, but theirs. 3. It has been objected, that, as the inspired writers were thoroughly acquainted with many things of which they wrote, they could not in such matters require any immediate afflatus from the Holy Spirit, and that therefore such a redundant in fluence would not have been vouchsafed by that infinitely wise Being who never lavishes his supernatural bestowments. To this I reply, that the authority of a messenger must cease when he acts merely in his own name, and gives forth that only which comes within the range of his own personal knowledge, without reference to the express dictation of the power by which he is delegated. On this principle, a writer of Scripture recording that which was simply the result of his own knowledge, is a contradiction in terms ; inasmuch as he must cease to be the medium of an infallible record the moment that he is thrown, in a single instance, on his own unaided resources : — that is not Holy Scripture which is not given by inspiration of God. 3. To the full view of inspiration here contended for, it has been objected, that some things are introduced by the inspired writers of too trifling a nature to be the subject of a direct communication from God. As, for instance, when Paul says to his son Timothy—" Drink no longer water, but use a little wine for thy stomach's sake, and thine often infirmities ;" or as elsewhere, when the same apostle says—" The cloak that I left at Troas with Carpus, when thou comest, bring with thee, and the books, but especially the parchments.," It is assumed, by objectors to the full inspiration of such texts, that they are below the standard of a divine communication, and that therefore they were the simple unaided dictates of the "apostle's own mind. Could*, we see no design couched in them worthy of God, this would be a most irreverent way of dealing with any part of a book which gives no counte nance to the idea of one part being more inspired than another. "The question is not at all whether the Apostle Paul needed inspiration to enable him to give such directions, but whether it was without inspiration that these doctrines form a part of a book, all of whiclTcomes to us as the word of God, and in spired by him. There are many parts of Scripture that might have been written without inspiration ; but the question is, were the sacred writers left without inspiration to select what they would put into this book, and what they would keep out of it? If so, then the book is theirs, not God's. Be sides, if it be thought absurd to suppose that there is any in- i * Take all tliose parts of the Prophets and the Pentateuch which begin with, " Thus saith the Lord ;" and also such parts of tbe pro phetic announcements as were unintelligible to the prophets them selves. Dan. xii. 7 — 9. In the New Testament, sec also John xiv. 16, 17, 26. xiv. 12, 13. Luke xxi. 15. Matt. x. 19, 20. 1 Cor. ii. 13. I* Pel. i. 21. * Dr. Woods, on Inspiration. 1 1 cannot but strongly recommend to my readers a work which I have found of great use to myself on thi s subject, by Robert Haldane, Esq. , entitled, " The Books of the Old and New Testaments proved to be canonical, and their verbal inspiration maintained and estab lished, &c." 12mo. A PORTRAITURE OF MODERN SCEPTICISM. 189 spiration in the direction which the apostle gave about his cloakand his books, it may very naturally be thought that as little inspiration was necessary to tell us how often he had received forty stripes save one ; that he had fought with wild beasts at Ephesus ; that he had undergone an endless variety of perils; that he had been let down over the wall of Damas cus in a basket, and put into the stocks at Philippi. Of all these, and many other similar instances, it may be said, that these are cases in which, as it would be absurd to suppose any inspiration, so it was unnecessary to disavow it. 'We shall thus get quit of the whole account of the sufferings of the apostles. The apostle says, that ".all Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable," &c. If there be many passages, or any passages, in which it would be absurd to suppose any inspiration, or which is not profitable, then he is guilty of stating what is not true."* Besides this general defence of the full inspiration of the passages in question, they admit of a [more specific support. Take the first of them, viz : — Paul's, counsel to Timothy res pecting the use of wine. Does not the exhortation in ques tion stand in the midst of a group of precepts, the most sol emn and weighty that can be conceived of? Who, then, can prove to me, that the apostle was under inspiration in deliv ering them, if not in delivering it? And was it altogether un worthy ofthe Holy Spirit to dictate to Paul such an injunc tion for the use of Timothy, when the preservation of his health, and his continued labours and usefulness in the church might depend upon it? Besides, does not the very permis sion to Timothy of a " little wine" inculcate the doctrine of temperance, especially upon all the ministers of Jesus Christ ? As to the second passage, we may fairly assume, with Grotius and Erasmus, the poverty of Paul, but not surely the absence of inspiration. "See," said Grotius, " the poverty of so great an apostle, who considered so small a matter, left at such a distance, to be a loss to him!" " Behold," said Erasmus, "the apostle's household furniture, a cloak to de fend him from the rain, and a few books !" With regard to the "books or parchments," unless we knew what they were, it would be the height of presumption to affirm that the re quest which relates to them was uninspired. 4. I shall only notice one supposition more, viz., that the writers of Scripture sometimes intimate themselves that they are not speaking by inspiration of God. Now, before refer ring to the instances in question, I would here take leave to observe, that should it even appear, in certain given cases, that inspired men do disavow the immediate dictation of the Holy Spirit, all that can be fairly gathered from this factwill be, that on all other occasions, not thus limited, they spake under his immediate guidance. In reference to certain delica cies belonging to the marriage compact, the apostle thus ex presses himself in his first Epistle to the Corinthians : — " I speak this by permission, and not of command." Now who permitted Paul to lay down the rules referred to ? Why, un questionably, the. Spirit of God. What is meant, then ? That Paul spake by inspiration, but that there was no express command from the Lord on the subject. As at the 10th verse * Mr. Carcw, as quoted by Mr. Haldane. of the same chapter: — " Unto the married," said Paul, " I command, yet not I, but the Lord, Let not the wife depart from her husband." The meaning is, that upon this particu lar Christ had issued his own mandate ; nevertheless Paul gave command by the Spirit of Christ. " To the rest," said he, " speak I, not the Lord." That is, the remaining coun sels ofthe apostle were such as the great- master had left no express injunction about, but which were nevertheless en trusted to him by the Spirit. At the 35th verse of the same chapter the apostle has the following expression: "Now, concerning virgins, I have no commandment of the Lord ; yet I give my judgment as one that hath obtained mercy of the Lord to be faithful." The thought is the same here as in the former instances. Though no express command had been given by Christ, on the subject treated of, yet the apostle, as one of his inspired servants, had received that grace which qualified him for a full development of the divine will, in all those things to which the personal ministry of Christ had not been directed. In the last verse of the chapter the apostle adds — " And I think, also, that I have the mind of Christ;" an expression which some of the most eminent critics have shown not to indicate an uncertain opinion, but full conviction and unhesi tating knowledge, as in John v. 39. But supposing all the above passages, and some others which might be quoted, to be instances in which the apostle spake without the immediate guidance of inspiration, — a thing which I cannot admit for a moment, — it is clear that he must have acted under inspiration in apprising the church that the Spirit did not influence him in such communications ; so that nothing can be derived from the objection against the imme diate and full inspiration of other parts of the word of God ; but on the contrary, it would rather go to the conclusion, that nothing short of an apostolic denial of such inspiration can justify any man in hesitating about the immediate divine au thority of a single portion ofthe word of God. CONCLUSION. From the whole of the preceding remarks, we may infer the paramount duty of entire and unreserved submission to the authority of God in the written word. Our reason, our conscience, our affections, are all called to surrender them selves to the heavenly vision. In this inestimable volume God speaks to us upon subjects ofthe highest interest ; and7 refusing to listen to his voice, we seal our own unhappy doom. " Hear ye the word of the Lord," is the message ad dressed to all who possess the sacred boon ; and he who by prejudice or sin excludes himself from the benefits of this message, which reveals the only method of salvation, is chargeable with a degree of rashness and folly which eternity itself will but fully disclose. Let the prayer of each one who reads this little treatise be—" Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wonderful things contained in thy law !" A MEMOIR OF MISS MARY JANE GRAHAM, LATE OF STOKE FLEMING, DEVON. BY THE REV. CHARLES BRIDGES, M. A. VICAR OF OLD NEWTON, SUFFOLK. CHAPTER I. Her Early Life. " The works of the Lord are great ; sought out of all them that have pleasure therein." Elevated, indeed, is the Chris tian's pleasure in " seeking out the great works" of creation But it is the work of " Redemption," which mainly attracts his delighted -eontemplation ; as the mirror in which the glory of his God and Saviour is most fully unveiled before him. The "new creation" on the heart of man is one grand division of this perfect work of God ; and often does its dis play of " the beauties of holiness" constrain the world to a reluctant acknowledgment, and excite the Church to joyful adoration — " What hath God wrought !" For not only will ,-t.he Redeemer's glory be manifested in his saints at the bliss ful era of his coming; not only will they then be seen as the "jewels" of his everlasting crown ; but even now are they " the glory of his inheritance," set forth for the conviction of the world, " that they may see, and know, and consider, and understand together, that the hand of fhe Lord hath done this, and that the Holy One of Israel has created it." It is the ob ject of the following sketch to bring forth to view one of these striking manifestations of Divine power and grace, and to il lustrate, in connexion with this memorial, some of those edi fying and instructive lessons which it will be seen to present before us. Mary Jane Graham was born in London, April 11, 1803. Her father was engaged in a respectable business, from which he retired a few years before his daughter's death (and chiefly from regard to her delicate health,) to the village of Stoke Fleming, near Dartmouth, Devon. She appears to have been the subject of early religious convictions. At the age of seven she had acquired those habits of secret prayer, which may be considered a favourable mark of Divine influence upon her soul. But we will give the history of this era of her life in her own words. To a friend, who had evinced some incre dulity of the genuineness or permanency of early impressions of religion, she thus writes: March 20, 1827. ' You appear, my dear friend, to think very early piety too wonderful a thing to be true. It is wonderful, so wonderful that, when David was contemplating tbe starry firmament, he was drawn for a moment from his meditation on the wonders he there beheld, by the still greater wonder of " God's ordain ing strength out of the mouths of babes and sucklings." But David's wonder and yours were of a very different nature ; he wondered and adored. Jesus, too, that " man of sorrows,'' once "rejoiced in spirit," because God "had hid those things from the wise and prudent, and revealed them unto babes. Even so, Father ; for it seemed good in thy sight." 'Even so, Lord Jesus; in thy rejoicing Will I too rejoice; let the world think me a fool or an enthusiast, or beside myself, as they thought Thee.' The story of ' Little Henry and his Bearer,' to which I believe you allude, I have been assured by Miss , is every word of it true. Do not then bring upon yourself the dreadful sin of limiting the power of the Holy One of Israel. Jesus has said, "Suffer little children to come ;" and they will come, if He calls them. As facts are the strongest of all proofs, bear with me a little longer, while I tell you briefly the history of a child, for the truth of which I can vouch. I knew a little girl, about sixteen years and a half ago. She was much like other children, as full of sin and vanity as ever she could hold ; and her parerrts had not as yet taken much pains to talk to her aboutreligion. So she went on in the way of her own evil heart, and thought her self a very good little girl, because she said her prayers every night and morning, and was not more passionate, wilful, and perverse, than most of her young companions. The God of love did not think this sinful child too young to learn of Je sus. He so ordered it about the time I am speaking of, when she was just seven years old, that she was led by a pious ser vant into some almshouses belonging to Rowland Hill, who had just been preaching at them. The servant and an aged woman entered into a long conversation together, to which the little girl listened, an'd wondered what could make them like to talk about such things. But at the close of it, the old woman took the child affectionately by the hand, and said to her, 'My dear child, make the Lord Jesus your friend now that you are so young ; and when you come to be as old as I am, He'll never leave you nor forsake you.' God the Spirit sent these simple words to the poor sinful child's heart. She walked home in silence by her nurse's side, thinking how she could get Jesus to be her friend. Then she remembered how often she had slighted this dear Saviour; how she had read of Him in the Bible, and been wearied- of the subject : how she had heard the minister preach Jesusj.'and wished the 'ongdry sermon over; how she had said prayers to Him with out minding what she said; how she had passed days, weeks, and 'months, without thinking of Him; how she had loved her play, her books, and her toys, and her play-fellows — all, all better than Jesus. Then the Holy Spirit convinced her of sin. She saw that no one good thing dwelt in her, and that she deserved to be cast away from God for ever. Woul4g Jesus love her now ? Would he ever forgive her ? She fearedg not ; but she would try. She would make herself very good, and then, perhaps, Jesus would be her friend. But the more this little girl tried to be good, tho more her naughty heart o-ot the better of her; for she was tryingin her own 'strength. She was led to give up tryingin that way; and many long nights MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 191 did she spend in praying " with strong crying and tears" to Jesus, that He would teach her how to get her sins pardoned, ,, ?nd, make her fit to have Him for her friend. Let me mention it for the encouragement of those who seek Jesus, that He ' did not disdain to listen to the prayers of this little child. He put it into her heart to read the Bible, of which, though she understood not all, yet she gathered enough to give her some comfort. One day her attention was fixed on these words, ¦ "Ihe Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin ofthe w°rld\ . ^ow something that could take away sin was just what this little girl wanted ; and she asked her father to tell her who this Lamb of God was. He explained the precious verse. But who can describe the raptures which filled the bosom of this little child, when made to comprehend that the " blood of Jesus cleanseth from all sin." Now she fled to Jesus indeed. Now she knew that He had loved her, and given himself for her; now the Spirit of God, who often "chooseth the weak and foolish things of the world, to con found the wise and mighty," "shed abroad the love of God in the heart" of a weak and foolish child, and " filled her with peace and joy in believing." She had no one to whom she could talk to of these things. But she held sweet converse with her reconciled God and Father ; and gladly would she have quitted this life to go and dwell with Jesus. Since then she has spent nearly seventeen years of mingled happiness and pain. But she has had Jesus for her friend; and He never has, and never will, forsake her. She has forsaken Him more than once for a season, and turned to follow the vain things of the world. But her Shepherd's eye has been oyer her in her wanderings, and He has never suffered her quite to depart from Him. To this day her vain and treacherous heart is continually leading her to provoke her heavenly Friend. He "visits her transgressions with the rod, and her iniquity with stripes ;" but He has sworn never to " take His loving-kindness from her, nor to suffer His faithfulness to fail." She is constrained to acknowledge, that during all this time she has never done one thing that could merit God's favour. Free-grace, free-mercy, are all her song: " It is of the Lord's mercy she has not long ago been consumed." She is quite sure she could never have changed her own heart. No ; God has begun the good work in her, and he must carry it on ; and from first to last, let glory be ascribed to Him, and let her fake shame and confusion to herself. At this moment she desires to live, if she may be made the means of converting one sinner to Jesus; but if not, she would rather " depart and be with Christ, which is far better." She is far from despising earthly blessings. Every morsel she puts into her mouth, the very air she breathes, is made sweet and refreshing by the loving hand that sends it. Once there was a curse on all her earthly blessings. But now " Christ hath redeemed her from the curse of the law, being made a curse for her." She would give it as her living ex perience, and leave it when she goes hence as her dying tes timony, that there is nothing worth living for except to know Him, and see others come to Him-, and wash their guilty souls in the blood of the Lamb. God has given her the bless ing of seeing a happy change take place in some of the dear companions of her childhood and youth. She waits upon Him for the salvation of the rest ; and there is no one whom she longs after more ardently in the Lord, than that dear and valued friend of her earliest days, to whom this letter is ad dressed ; and to whom she wishes every spiritual blessing, that God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, can bestow now and for evermore ! Amen and Amen !' , -Some apparent discrepancy may be observed between this exquisitely beautiful and natural letter, and her published ac count of this important crisis.* Her apprehensions of Divine truth, as expressed in her letter, were indeed clear and en livening far beyond the average spiritual capacity of children. Yet her ' view of many of the doctrines of Christianity,' which she afterwards so fully developed and so richly en joyed, were at this time ' very indistinct.' Doubtless also much of natural feeling and excitement was mingled with these early impressions of religion ; while what was of a spiritual character, as she afterwards discovered, was not suf ficiently o-rounded upon that sense of universal guilt and help lessness which prostrates the sinner at the foot of the cross, Simply dependant upon a free salvation. This superficial cast of impression, without invalidating the reality of a Divine change, will account for the instability which marked her early course in the ways of God. From her own history we learn TTest of Truth. By Mary Jane Graham. This yery valuable work has just been republished by J. Whetham, Philadelphia— Ed. that she ' was enabled to walk with God in sincerity.and without any considerable declension during the greater part of her childhood, and the commencement of a riper age.' Af ter this period, however, ' more than once,' as her letter in forms us, she ' forsook' her Heavenly Friend, ' turned to follow the vain things ofthe world,' and " wenton frowardly in the way of her own heart" — " leaning to her own under standing," and led captive in her own folly. Of this period future notice will be given. Meanwhile we revert to her early years as spent under the roof of her parents or at school. Her parents considered her virtues as those of every day, and not merely called forth on particular occasions'. She was a most amiable, affectionate, and dutiful child, sel dom needing correction, tender-hearted when told of her faults, and by her general kindness of disposition attaching all the members of the household to herself. She was remarka bly free from selfishness ; always ready to yield to her com panions, even to deprive herself of what she valued. Her lit tle pocket money was generally reserved for some object of distress, or for some token of affection to a friend. Her quickness of mind was a subject of early observation. Her reading was chiefly obtained by attending to the lessons which were given to her brother, then preparing for school. She was seldom seen without a book in hand, and seemed never so happy as when employing herself in the improve ment of her mind.. Yet this thoughtful cast of character was by no means tinged with unnatural gloom. In all the harm less games of childhood none of her companions excelled her in playful activity ;* while in the midst of her cheerful tem perament, it was abundantly evident that the main concern of religion was uppermost in her mind. ' I recollect,' her cou sin writes, 'that when we were quite little children, she made some attempt to talk to me about religion ; once espe cially, when we were sitting behind the curtain in the drawing- room at . I did not like the subject, and therefore walked away and joined my more worldly-minded companions.' Her school career commenced soon after she was seven years old. She was however shortly removed, from ill health, and again, about the age of ten, sent to a school of a different kind. Many of her companions who survived her will pro bably long preserve the remembrance of her peculiar kindness and gentleness of spirit, combined with her superior powers. One of them remarks her great carefulness to screen, as far as it was lawful to do so, the fault's of her fellows, and her anxiety to plead for them when in disgrace : and so powerful was her advocacy, that her preceptress was constrained to remove out of her way, when her judgment compelled her to persevere in her discipline. In all the school difficulties, she was the constant resource, ever ready and willing to assist, without any assumption upon the ground of her acknowledged superiority. One trait of peculiar loveliness was here exhibi ted, (the spirit of which was marked on various occasions in after life,) in her consideration of any of her companions who from any unfavourable causes might, appear to be neglected. Those were the objects of her particular notice, and with them she shared all her little indulgences. Her religious impressions appear to have been cherished by the familiar exhortations of the husband of her perceptress, and by devotional exercises with those of her companions who were living under the practical influence of their Chris-. tian instructions. To one of them she proposed to learn every day a portion of Scripture in private, and to repeat it to each • other when they retired to rest. At this time she committed to memory the whole of the Prophecy of Isaiah, besides other portions ofthe sacred Volume. At the age of twelve her delicate health again occasioned her removal from school. Her illness lasted for about two months, during which time, when confined upon the sofa, she committed to memory tbe whole Book of Psalms. Indeed her powers of memory were of an extraordinary order. She was much delighted with Milton's Paradise Lost, and had learnt, the greater part, if not the whole, of that magnificent poem. For many successive mornings she repeated to her father most correctly upwards of three hundred lines each morning. Upon her recovery from illness she passed several months with a careful servant by the seaside. So instinctive were her habits of active usefulness, that she employed her self, though only in her thirteenth year, in collecting a few children for the purpose of instruction, and in distributing tracts. In returning home to her parents, she enjoyed with * One of her early friends however remarks, that her games and manner of amusing partook more of imagination and of talent than those ofthe generality of children. 192 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. them the rich and responsible privilege of the ministry of the late Rev. Samuel Crowther, Vicar of Christ Church, New gate Street ; an eminent " watchman of Ephraim, now with his God." Under his faithful and affectionate instruction she was brought to the ordinance of Confirmation about the age of sixteen, and publicly "joined herself to the Lord in a per petual covenant never to be forgotten." These interesting materials of Miss Graham's early life may suggest a few profitable remarks. Let Christian parents be excited to an immediate and per severing discharge of their anxious responsibilities. Early impressions are of the highest moment in reference to the fu ture course of their children. Let them be prayed for, expected , cherished. They cannot be too early or too urgent in present ing (after the example of the believing parents of old) the petition of the Angel of the covenant ; " How shall we order the child, and how shall we do unto him ?" They can scarce ly fix the precious seed too soon into the fresh soil. The pure simplicity of the rudiments of the Gospel is specially suited to the dawn of infant intelligence ; and well would it be, if our children should never be able to recur in after life to the time when these vital truths were first presented to their minds. The child's intellect opens faster than is commonly considered. The first impressions often retain a firm and per manent grasp through life. And abundantly has the experi ence of the Church testified, that early piety is eminent piety.* It may appear suspicious, that so little shade is discovera ble upon the records of Miss Graham's childhood. But de fects cannot be noticed, where they were not observed. Probably our own sphere of observation, if not our immediate circle, is not wholly unfurnished with similar cases, sufficient to preclude an unwarranted incredulity. And indeed these instances often afford the most striking illustrations of the total depravity of the fall. For while Miss Graham was in the estimation of her parents all that their fond hearts could wish, what was she in the sight of God ? Self-knowledge under Divine teaching soon discovered to her, that under this attractive garb was hid the mighty principle of alienation of heart from God. There was no natural preparation for heav enly influence. It was only a more lovely appearance of the death that reigned within. Her subsequent expressions there fore of self-abhorrence were not the ebullitions of a false humility, or of misguided fanaticism, but the genuine con vietion ofthe Spirit of God upon her heart. The subject of our history suggests also the importance of an early excitement of the principles of active usefulness. No doubt Miss Graham's habits of early activity had an im portant influence in maturing her character for the high privi lege of devoting herself to the interests of her fellow- creatures. It was Cotton Mather's practice to endeavour to enlarge the minds of his children, by engaging them daily in some ' Essay to do good.' He encouraged and commended them, when Vie saw them take pleasure in it, and never failed to show them that a backwardness would subject them to his displeasure. This example cannot be too strongly inculcated To give to children an object beyond themselves, would tend much to counteract the natural principle of selfishness, so baneful to their personal happiness, and to their intellectual, moral and spiritual improvement. CHAPTER II. Her Relapse into Infidelity. About the age of seventeen, Miss Graham's mind underwent a most extraordinary revolution. She fell, for a few months, from the heavenly atmosphere of communion with God, into the dark and dreary regions of infidelity. Allusion has al ready been made to this afflicting circumstance, in her letter, But for a most interesting and graphic detail, the reader must be referred to her own published account; some digest of which will here be given, in order to connect the thread of her history, and ta^exhibit a clear view of one of the most important eras in her life. Miss Graham's mind opened in a metaphysical form, un- ' favourable to a simple reception of truth. And this, con nected with a defective apprehension of her lost estate, induced a spirit of self-dependence, one of the most subtle and suc cessful hindrances to the Christian life.* Thus was the way opened to a secret habit of backsliding from God. The foolish vanities of the world for a while captivated her heart; and her manners were remarked to be like any other thought less girls of her own age. From frivolity she sought refuge in her more solid intellectual pursuits. All sources of self- gratification within her power were resorted to with the fruit less attempt of obtaining peace in a course of departure from God. Wearied at length with disappointment, this prodigal child "began to be in want;" and many a wishful eye did she cast towards the rich provision of her father's forsaken house. In turning, however, to religion for comfort, she found, to use her own words ;"' Alas ! I had no religion: I had refused to give glory to the Lord my God ; now my feet were left to stumble upon the dark mountains.' The doctrine of the Divinity of Christ had often been to her (as to many other minds cast in the same mould), an oc casion of perplexity. Now it was " a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence." Though repeated examination had fully satisfied her that it was the truth of ihe Bible, -yet so repulsive was it to her proud heart, that she. was led from thence to question the truth ofthe Bible itself. ' I suspected,' said she, ' that a system of religion, which involved such apparent absurdities, could not possibly come from God. Determined to sift the matter to the utmost, I eagerly ac quainted myself with the arguments for and against Chris tianity. My understanding was convinced that the Scriptures were divine. But my heart refused to receive the conviction. The more my reason was compelled to assent to their trutlv the more I secretly disliked the doctrines ofthe Bible.' Continued resistance to convictions was the natural and* melancholy result of this inquiry. She determined to lay the subject aside for a while, still 'persuading herself that there must be flaws in the evidence of so strange a history,' which only her want of maturity of judgment, prevented her from discovering. Those early religious impressions, that usually form a bulwark against infidelity, in her case proved a stum bling-block to her faith. Ignorant of the native bias of her heart against the Gospel, she considered them as the effect of prejudice, before her mind had been intelligibly informed or exercised. She now, therefore, determined to burst her chains, and to think and examine for herself. Hitherto she had confined her perplexities within her own bosom ; partly dreading the influence of external bias, and partly fearing to infuse into another's mind doubts concern ing a book, which, she could not conceal from herself, might after all be true. She endeavoured now to strengthen her mind by pursuing a course of intellectual study, with the di rect design of preserving herself from becoming a dupe^to " cunningly devised fables." And here she did not fail sub sequently to acknowledge the special forbearance and wisdom of her heavenly Father. Justly might he have deprived her of that reason, which she had so presumptuously set up in his own place.' Yet was he pleased to overrule this way wardness of his child as an ultimate means of her restoration, in applying her course of mental discipline to the effectual discovery ofthe fallacies with which she was now deluded. The immediate effect however of these studies was deci dedly injurious. Their absorbing interest diverted her mind from the main subject of inquiry; while they proved also a temporary refuge against the uneasy disturbance of her con science. Even her intervals of reflection were too easily soothed by the indefinite postponement of the*"great concern to "a more convenient season." Occasional convictions * ' Barker's Parent's Monitor' gives an useful digest of informa tion, well calculated to guide the instructor, and to encourage the diligence and patient perseverance of parental faith. The principles of Christian Education are brought out with much simplicity and practical detail in the valuable and well-known works of Mrs. Hoare and Mr. Babington, which cannot be too highly recommended. Per haps the most full and interesting illustration of these principles will be found in the Biographies ofthe Henry Family, (Life of P. & M. Henry, and Mrs. Savage) by Mr. AA'illiams, of Shrewsbury. * She alludes to an injury, which her own mind, in common (as she conceives) with many others, had received from adopting Dod dridge's form of covenanting with God. (Rise and Progress, chapter xvii. ) This was in her thirteenth year. Let it however be remembered, that, though this mode of dedication may have frequently ministered to a legal spirit, yet it by no means necessarily partakes of an un- evangelical character. This " subscribing of the hand unto tbe Lord," has been found by many eminent Christians, (as, for exam ple, in Philip Henry's family) to be a cord of love, not a yoke of bondage. Allusion is probably made to it as an acceptable ordi nance in the service of the Gospel. — Isaiah xliv. 3 — 5. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 193 were indeed felt, but without any permanent or practical influence. Through the Divine mercy this state of infatuation did not prove of long duration. After a few months' captivity, she was brought, though not without severe conflict of mind, to the full light and liberty of scriptural truth.* The conviction of the being of a God, in her darkest moments had never wholly forsaken her. A "few hours' contemplation of the starry heavens darted into her mind a piercing reflection upon her stupidity and ingratitude, in what she justly called an 'unnatural and parricidal attempt to banish God from his own creation, to depose him from his natural supremacy over her heart' *r~ -*--'- '-•¦*- *- f -.,-{-*¦- Her whole life now appeared to her (what in deed the Scriptures declare it to be) one continued act of sin and folly. Her convictions however of sin, being wholly unconnected with any discovery of the way of forgiveness, naturally tended to despondency. Every fresh sense of the corruption of her heart and of the unsullied purity of the Di vine character, brought with it a corresponding sense of guilt. She could expect therefore nothing but punishment propor tioned to the infinite sinfulness of her offence. She could not conceive the consistency of her forgiveness with the claim of Divine justice; and the alternative of her eternal punish ment seemed even less dreadful than the supposition of any inconsistency in Him, who, in her view, was the Perfection of Holiness. ' I had acquired,' she remarked, ' such a per ception of the beauty of holiness, that the thought of an un holy God was worse than hell to me. I felt that I had rather God should pour out on me all the vials of his wrath, than that, carried away by an unworthy softness and weakness, he should forgive, and thereby encourage sin. To undergo eternal punishment was horrible. To acknowledge an un holy God was more horrible.' As her last expedient, her despised Bible was brought to mind. And ' how different' — she observes — ' was the tem per of mind, in which I now addressed myself to its perusal, from that in which I had read it in the commencement of my disbelief of Christianity ! I was no longer a proud sophist, triumphing in the strength and penetration of human reason, and in the comprehensiveness of human knowledge. The contemplation of my own ignorance, weakness, and wicked ness, had laid my pride in the dust. My eyes were opened to view myself as I really was — depraved and blinded in my reason, judgment, and understanding. And this is the pro cess, which must take place in the soul of every man, before he can pursue the search after truth in a right spirit. Her interest was early directed to the promises of Divine teaching to the sincere 'inquirer after truth. Their suitable ness fixed her attention. Their freeness encouraged her heart. " Ask, and it shall be given you ; seek, and ye shall find. He giveth his Holy Spirit to them that ask him"— especially arrested her. She determined to make trial of them, conceiving that their fulfilment in her own case would ^ be a ' Test of the Truth' ofthe book, which held them forth for her acceptance. Though hindered at first by a sense of unworthiness, she ventured to apply ; justly considering, that whatever might be her apprehensions of her own demerit, yet a state of submission and desire could not be so displeas ing to God, as one of carelessness and .rebellion. But the description of this anxious crisis must be given in her own striking words. ' Impelled by these reflections— fearful and uncertain, but with uncontrolable, unutterable longings, I directed my applications ' To the unknown God.' 0 my Re deemer ! the first breathings of my soul were not uttered in thy name ! I rushed into the presence of my Judge without a mediator. But doubtless even then Thy comeliness was thrown over the deformity of my soul ; and the eye of my Father beheld me with pity, for thy dear name's sake. My prayer ascended up to heaven, fragrant with the incense of thy merits ; though the poor wretch who offered it thought to please God by leaving thee out of it. ... ., In this prostration of soul, she continued "watching daily at her Lord's gates, waiting at the posts of his doors." It need scarcely be added, she did not seek in vain. The Divine character now appeared before her, not, as before, in its con suming holiness ; but in the combined glory of holiness and love. Her apprehensions of sin, of Christ, and ofthe whole ' system of Christian truth, were now irradiated with heavenly light ; and with simplicity, and godly sincerity of heart, she was enabled to " believe unto righteousness." The cha racter of Christ, as a proof of tbe credibility ofthe Christian revelation, arrested her particular attention. A minute scru tiny of His spotless life was most satisfactory in its result.* 'The more,' said she, 'I studied this Divine character, the more I grew up as it were into its simplicity and holiness, the more my understanding was enabled to shake off those slavish and sinful prejudices, which had hindered me from appreciating its excellence. Truly his words were dearer to me " than my necessary food." He was my " All in all." I did not want to have any knowledge, goodness, or strength, independently of him. I had rather be " accepted in the Be loved," than received (had that been possible) upon the score my own merits. I had rather walk, leaning upon his arm, than have a stock of strength given me to perform the jour ney alone. To learn, as a fool, of Christ ; this was better-to me than to have the knowledge of an angel to find but things for myself.' After her recovery from this fearful snare of Satan, she was mercifully preserved from " turning again to folly," and led forth in " the path of the just," with increasing light, strength, and establishment. ' From that moment,' she adds, ' I ceas ed to stumble at the doctrines of the cross. The doctrines of Scripture, which had before appeared to me an inexplica ble mass of confusion and contradictions, were now written on my understanding with the clearness of a sunbeam. Above all, that once abhorred doctrine ofthe Divinity of Christ was becoming exceeding precious to me. The external evidences of Christianity, though I now perceived all their force, were no longer necessary to my conviction. From that time,' she concludes, ' I have continued to " sit at the feet of Jesus, and to hear his word ;" taking him for my Teacher and Guide in things temporal as well as spiritual. He has found in me a disciple so slow of comprehension, so prone to forget his les sons and to act in opposition to his commands, that were he not infinitely " meek and lowly in heart," he would long ago have cast me off in anger. But he still continues to bear with me, and to give me " line upon line, and precept upon precept." And I am certain, that he "will never leave me, nor forsake me ;" for, though I am variable and inconstant, " with him there is no variableness, neither shadow of turn- ing." ' f The Writer cannot but hope, that at this awful crisis, when a moral pestilence (far more dreadful than the late providen tial visitation) is stalking through the land, the preceding narrative may suggest seasonable caution, conviction, and encouragement to some, especially of his young readers. Let them mark the connexion of the first principles of infidel ity, with the exercise ofthe understanding, and with the state ofthe heart. Pride of intellect in Miss Graham's case, was evidently one main cause of her departure from God. When her mind left the strong-hold of faith, her scriptural light, which could only be apprehended through spiritual optics^, became obscured, until she was gradually left to the Egyptian darkness of her own understanding. And this we apprehend to be a very usual commencement of an infidel course, upon principles equally opposed to reason and to revelation. Man, in his prurient desire to pass the bounds of revelation, forgets that while " the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children," the " secret things" are no less the property of God. As he has, therefore, reserved them for himself, this * It may be remarked, that severe providential afflictions about this period concurred with the exercises of her own mind, to awaken ,,er Sto this self-abasing recollection of her fearful departure from God. Vol. II— Z * This is not a solitary instance of impression from the contem plation of the character of Christ. Even Mr. Chubb must have felt some conviction, when he describes his life ' as a beautiful picture of human nature in its native purity and simplicity ; and showing at once what excellent creatures men would be, when under the influ ence and power of that gospel which he preached unto them. ' (True Gospel, p. 56.) Rousseau's exquisite contrast between Socrates and Christ is well known, concluding with the remarkable acknowledg ment respecting the latter : — ' The inventor of such a personage would be a move astonishing character than the hero.' Yet could this man's heart resist the clear conviction of his judgment — * I can not' — he subjoins — ' believe the Gospel.' His Confessions, however, clearly trace his unbelief to its proper cause — the love of sin. See John iii. 19, 20, — a text which throws more light upon the secret springs of infidelity, than whole volumes that have been written upon the subject. t Test of Truth, pp. 112 — 117. The extracts given from this in teresting little work, will be sufficient to commend it to the read er's attention, as the production of an author of no common power, and deeply imbued with the glowing principles of the Gospel. It will remind the reader of some of Mr. Scott's painful exercises of mind described in his ' Force of Truth' and of the argument so suc cessfully haudlcd by Bishop Burnet in his disputations with Lord Rochester. 194 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. " intrusion into the things which we have not seen," and can not see, is the unhallowed indulgence of a "fleshly mind.' The extent and precise boundaries of revelation are determi ned by infinite wisdom ; and could we discern them with a single eye, they would be found equally illustrative of a high regard to the happiness of man. A more expanded view un der present circumstances would only increase instead of clearing up our difficulties. The eye would wander over the field of infinite space with a disproportioned power of percep tion. The objects, therefore, would be less distinctly appre hended ; and the result would leave us more restless and dis satisfied, while the happy influence of humility, simplicity, and faith had been wholly disregarded. If we have not the whole view before us, let it suffice, that we have all that is needful for our happiness and present duty. The attempt to supply what we conceive to be wanting by the conjectural effort of reason, would be to subject "vain man" to his Ma ker's merited rebuke — " Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge ?" Every step of advance be yond the Divine record is fraught with danger and uncer tainty. , " In God's light" alone " can we see light." The intellectual "light that is in us," when applied by the pride of man to the contents of revelation — "is darkness ; and how great is that darkness !" Simple faith, therefore, however mistaken or despised, may justly be deemed the highest act of reason ; while rational religion, ' falsely so called,' may easily be proved to be of all schemes the most irrational.* We would add a few words upon the connexion of infidelity with the state ofthe heart. We are not exclusively intellect ual beings. The affections so materially influence the judg ment, as often to incapacitate it for the accurate discernment of truth. The natural bias of the heart is to sin, and conse quently to infidelity, the excuse and covering for sin. The point at issue is, whether men shall remain the servants of sin, or become the servants of God ; whether they shall be degraded as sensual beings, or raised to the elevation of in telligent or spiritual existence. Now, as the Gospel stands in the way of natural indulgence, it must be removed. So that if a course of infidel reading, or intercourse with scoffers, has not furnished the necessary arguments, they must be invented from the man's own heart. The danger of infidelity is not, therefore, confined to the ungodly and profane. Every unconverted man must secretly wish the Bible to be untrue ; and under this bias he will (except restrained by an Almighty power) endeavour to prove it untrue. A wrong state of heart, as with Miss Graham, gives the power and advantage to this active and malignant principle. In her early state of child-like simplicity she would have been safe. But the "fulfilment of the desires of the mind," probably more than of " the flesh," combined with ignorance " of Satan's de vices," brought her into his snare; and she was "taken captive by him at his will." Depending upon the teaching ofthe Spirit of God, our "path" in Divine knowledge will be " as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day." And ' whenever- (as an original and pow- * The writer cannot forbear to add some admirable remarks from an unpublished manuscript of Miss Graham's shortly to be noticed. ' It is true that faith compels our assent to many things beyond the reach of reason, even of the renewed reason. But this implicit cre dence is itself the highest and noblest exercise of the understanding. It is a reasonable assent to the testimony of One, in whom we repose unlimited confidence, because we have reasonable grounds for con cluding Him to be infinitely wiser than ourselves. An exercise of the reason is presupposed, whereby we are assured that the Bible is God's testimony ; and an act of the Understanding, whereby, having obtained this assurance, we infer, that every word of the- Bible must be true. The Divine philosophy of faith, then, sets out upon these two propositions. The first — an assurance, founded in reason, that the Bible is the revelation of God. The second — an inference, equally founded in reason, that every word of the Bible is true ; and must therefore be taken in preference to all the deductions of our own reason, which may or may not be true. Neither of these pro positions is shaken by the fact, that the Bible contains many things which we do not understand ; or in other words, that God may know many things which we do not know ; that many things may appear to his infinitely holy and unclouded understanding, in a very differ ent light, from that in which they are viewed by our narrow and prejudiced minds. When the first proposition is once proved to the entire satisfaction of the mind, the second must follow of course. Then faith, an implicit, childlike faith, becomes the only rational mode of proceeding. Every departure from this faith isa departure from reason j an insult to the understanding ; a violation of com mon sense. And tliat we do make such departures, only tends to prove, that while the renewed understanding "consents to the law of God that it is holy, just, and good ;" " the law of sin," which is ' yet working " in our members," occasionally beclouds and perverts it. erful writer remarks) 'he opens the Scriptures, that same light that discovers the meaning, will not fail to affect and make our hearts burn within us with the sense of Divine light, authority, and power. Of this the experience of the people of God, as they grow in knowledge, furnishes them daily with new instances; and therefore they do not stumble at the want ofthe present sense of that light, but are quickened to diligence, excited- to frequent cries for opening of their eyes, that they may understand the wonders, that by the knowledge of other parts of the Word, they are induced to believe couched in those parts, which yet they knew not.' One further remark suggests itself from this interesting record to avoid unnecessary distress and misconception. Let not Miss Graham's vivid portraiture of her own feelings and views be considered as a general standard, as if the same in tensity of mental exercise, and clearness of spiritual per ception were the exclusive evidences of a sound conversion of heart to God. Self-renunciation, diligent investigation of Divine truth, and a conscientious improvement of the light vouchsafed, are indeed indispensable marks of Christian sin cerity. Yet while the enjoyment of our high privileges will vary in proportion to the energy of these holy principles, the measure of their influence is almost indefinitely diversified within the precincts ofthe true church of God. It may also be important to observe, that many of Miss Graham's most painful trials (such as her intellectual pride) arose out of the peculiar form of her natural character. No sympathy there fore can be expected or need be desired in minds cast in a different mould ; and any effort to excite or encourage it, for the purpose of establishing an ideal connexion with this ob ject of attraction, (which would probably be unaccompanied with a desire to imitate the spiritual excellences of the pro posed model) can only originate in deceit, and tend to self- delusion. CHAPTER III. General sketch of Miss Graham's life ; her views of study ; extensive attainments ; and active devotedness to God. Miss Graham continued to reside in London for some time after her deliverance from that awful delusion, into which she had been permitted to fall. The remembrance, however, of this temporary apostacy was " ever before her" with all that holy shame and self-abasement, which attaches to the "purified" conscience ofthe pardoned sinner; humbling her in the dust, while yet faith, hope, love, peace, and joy, were the dominant principles in her soul. Deeply also did she feel the constraint ofthe command given by anticipation to a backsliding apostle ; " When thou art converted, strengthen - thy brethren." Itwas the great object of her 'Test of Truth,' to set forth her own case as a beacon of warning, an example of encouragement, and a monument of Divine grace, for the special use of those who might be brought into the same seductive atmosphere of temptation. There is reason to be lieve, that her work in its original form produced its measure of conviction upon her principal correspondent; and we may confidently expect, that, in a wider circulation, an answer to her prayers for a Divine blessing upon it will be abundantly manifested. During her residence in London, the ministry of the Rev. Watts Wilkinson, and a deep study of the sacred volume, were the ordained means of advancing her knowledge and experience of Scriptural truth. Her intellectual habits were a source of much gratification to her ; and mainly con tributed, under the blessing of God, to form her character into a mould of solid and permanent usefulness. It is however delightful to observe her Christian simplicity and watchful ness, to subordinate these valuable enjoyments to the primary object of the glory of God. Of this the following prayer, found among her papers, will furnish an interesting and edify ing illustration. ' Before study of any kind, remember that it is but lottL labour, except the Lord bless it. Summary of things to be sought of God before study. ' I desire to thank Thee, my God and Father in Christ Jesus, for this and every other opportunity of improver/tent Thou hast given me. "May the opportunity Thou hast given MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 195 me be blest of Thee ! Enable me to receive it with thanks giving, and sanctify it to me by the Word of God and prayer. O let me know nothing but Jesus Christ and Him crucified ; and other things just so far as may be for my good and thy glory, and no further. I would mourn before Thee the base ingratitude with which I have hitherto abused my time and talents, by loving thy gifts more than Thee, and seeking myself, not Thee, in them. Now I bring all my things to Thee ; for they are not mine, but thine own. Take that ac cursed thing, self, out of them all, and condescend to use them for thy glory. I thank Thee, that the meanest employment is acceptable in thy sight, when done in the name of the Lord Jesus. May I set about this, in His name, and in His strength, and to His glory ! May I not once seek my own things in it, but the things that are Jesus Christ's .' Let me no longer lean to my own understanding ; but may I so ac knowledge Thee in all my ways, that Thou mayest establish my thoughts, and direct my paths ! Suffer me not to be wise in my own conceit, nor vainly puffed up in my fleshly mind. Make me to lean from mine own wisdom. Be Thou my wisdom. Holy Lord God the Spirit! who dividest unto every man severally as Thou wilt, bless such of my studies, and in such a degree as may be most to thy glory. If it be thy will, prepare me by them for the work to which I desire thou wouldst call and separate me.* I commit this work, to which I would devote myself, into thy hands. Prosper it or not as Thou seest good. Thy will be done respecting it, only take all self-seeking out ofit; get thyself glory, Lord, in all that I do ; and keep me from ever wishing to rob Thee of thy glory. Lord, if thou wilt bless me abundantly, grant that in whatever Thou givest me, I may remember I have received it, and not glory as if I bad not received it. I set myself to this employment in the name of Jesus : may I have fellowship with Him in it ! Let it not become a snare to me; but may the Lord who. is my confidence, preserve my foot from being taken in this net, which has so often en tangled me ! ' O Thou Glorifier of Jesus ! take of the things that are His, and show them unto me, and unto all Thy people, with such light and power, that our wills, desires, and affections may be quite swallowed up in His love. Let us have no will but Thy most holy will. Convince us thatall things else are mere dross and dung, in comparison with that most excellent knowledge of our dear Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, which do thou give us every day more abundantly, making us to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge. Even so, Holy Spirit, for the sake of thy great mercies in Christ Jesus, to whom with Thee and the Father, be all the honour, all the praise, and all the glory, now and for ever. Amen.' In the same spirit, an extract from a letter to a young friend engaged in the work of tuition, gives the following sensible advice, with a modest reference to her own case March 22, 1827. ' ' You ask me whether I think study is wrong. I think, on the contrary, if we study with a view to the glory of God, it becomes a duty to do so. If we study merely to please our selves, I think it is wrong. Your situation seems to render study necessary; and when we reflect, how few of those who are engaged in teaching are truly pious, it ought to stir us up to the'best improvement of our time and talents. The love of study and mental amusements has been my great snare, and has so very often led me astray, that 1 have been tempted to give it up altogether. I feel thankful to God, that whenever I have- begun to make some progress in my favourite study, he has thwarted- my attempt to excel by some seasonable in terruption, a fit of illness or some domestic trial. But when 1 think how very useful a moderate degree of mental cultiva tion may make me, and particularly that it seems the way of usefulness most suitable to me, if I should recover my strength, I mea%to resume it as soon as I can ; and I hope in Christ, through whose goodness every opportunity of im provement is given, that he will not suffer these opportunities to become hindrances to my advancement in the knowledge of him. Let us pray to be taught to feel, that all earthly know ledge is mere dross and dung, in comparison with the most excellent knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; and then I trust we may pursue, without abusing it, only tak ing care never to' neglect any present duty, or any spiritual duty for it.' ^_^ * This was a plan, which lay very near her heart, for the -jratui- tous instruction of the children of Missionaries, and of Cliristians in reduced circumstances, with a view to qualify them for the situation of teachers. But we will here give some large extracts from an unpub lished Treatise ' On the Intellectual, Moral, and Religious uses of Mathematical Science,' as conveying her full and matured views upon this important subject.* Speaking of study generally, she marks with accurate dis crimination the different principles of the worldly and the Christian student. ' Many and varied are the motives by which the worldly student is actuated. But his views all centre in some way or other in his own person. Self-gratification, self-advance ment, self-interest, are mingled with them all. The Chris tian student is also variously influenced. But he has learned to transfer all his actions to another centre. The glory of his reconciled God is the point on which they all turn, the com pass by which they are all directed. The outward conduct of the two characters may present many points of similarity. Their inward intentions are totally and irreconcilably differ ent. The intrinsic excellence of science, its ennobling influ ence upon the mind, the delights that are to be enjoyed in the pursuit of it, and the benefits that are to be reaped in its at tainment ; — these are objects common to the man of the world, and to the religious man. But mark wherein the difference consists. With the former they are primary objects of con sideration ; the latter beholds them only in a secondary point of view. The Christian student is far from despising the ad vantages of study. He has felt what it is to thirst after knowledge, and possesses a keen relish for the. pleasures of intellect. But he puts all these considerations away from him, till he has answered a question of higher importance. His first inquiry is — ' How shall I study for God ? How shall I render my acquirements subservient to his glory ?' If he cannot answer the question to his complete satisfaction, the uneasy recurrence of it will prove a continual drawback to the spirited and successful prosecution of his studies.' Upon a very prevalent misconception upon this subject, she gives the following just remarks, — ' It has been too much the practice with a well-meaning but injudicious portion of the religious world, to decry human learning, as if it were a thing absolutely unchristian and per nicious. They attack it in the gross, and apply to it all that the Scripture has said concerning " the wisdom of this world." They appear to forget that these censures apply not to the use, but to the abuse, of human learning. Those who "lean to tbeir own understanding," who are " wise in their own con ceits," who set human wisdom in the place of the Holy Ghost's teaching — these are the wise and learned, of whom the Scripture affirms, that the things of the kingdom are hid from their eyes. But the description was never meant for the * We subjoin an analysis of this manuscript, which will give some view ofthe extent, general accuracy, and spiritual character of Miss Graham's mind. Introduction. ChapteiiI. The Usefulness of Math ematics in learning to Reason ; Groundwork of Mathematical Sci ences; Art of Stating a Question ; Modes of Demonstration; An alysis ; Connexion; Art of Simplifying Processes; Intermediate Principles. Chapter II. The Beneficial influence of Mathematics upon some parts of the Intellectual and Moral Character ; Atten tion ; Abstraction ; Penetrativeness and Invention ; Arrangement ; Moral Habits of Mind. Chapter III. The Disadvantages of Math ematical Studies ; Engrossing attention of the Pursuit ; Contempt or Mistrust of other Evidence ; Effect on the Imaginative Faculties. Chapter IV. The Advantages of Mathematical Science, and of the Cultivation of Reason in general, considered in a religious point of view. Chapter V. A review of the Disadvantages and Tempta tions to which the Religious Student is Exposed. In the Introduc tion she specifies the persons for whom she primarily wrote — ' those who, in the ardour of their pursuit after human learning, are not un mindful of its immeasurable inferiority to " the wisdom which is from above." To them,' she remarks, ' study of every kind pre sents considerations of higher import than even the intellectual ben efits that are reaped from it. The introduction of religion into secu lar matters is too often censured as impertinent and unseasonable ; and many will think it wholly out of place iu a work professedly on science. I can only reply,' she adds, ' by the simple confession, that I should grieve to be acquainted with that science, which might not, under God, forward in some way or other the grand object of my existence. "Thou shalt teach them diligently to thy children, and shalt talk of them, when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up" (Deut. vi. 7. ) These are the commands of God concern ing the momentous truths of Scripture. They leave us very little time for science, independent of religion. Every believer in the Bible will endeavour to act in the spirit of these words. He will consider that time as lost, which is spent without regard to eternity ; and that learning as useless, which he cannot employ in subservience to hea venly knowledge. ' This valuable manuscript was written about two years before her death. She had'intended, during her last illness, to have revised it for publication. But increasing weakness, and the overwhelming impression ofthe near prospect of eternity, compelled her to relinquish her design. 196 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. discouragement of those who pursue human study in a simple, child-like dependence upon God. It sometimes happens, that the young convert, full of religious zeal, and possessed with some vague and ill-defined notions of the worthless ensnar ing nature of human learning, is led by a mistaken sense of duty either entirely to abandon it, or greatly to slacken his efforts in the attainment of it, and so to shut himself out from a wide field of future usefulness.' Upon the lawfulness of study she draws the line with great precision and Christian simplicity. ' Does the time' — she asks — ' you now devote to study, break in upon any known and immediate call of duty ? If it does, your way is clearly pointed out. No prospect of future good can justify you in the neglect of present duty. Your stu dies must, according to circumstances, be wholly abandoned, or laid aside, till you can resume them without feeling that conscience is drawing you another way. Perhaps you are ready to exclaim, that "this is a hard saying." You cannot contentedly resign or postpone your hopes of mental improve ment. Still less can you consent to hazard the loss of all that you have already acquired. SuffeT me to remind you of two points of view, in which it imports you to consider this question. 'I readily admit, that the studies of worldly men may be successful, notwithstanding the evil spirit in which they are prosecuted. "They have their reward." But nothing that you do can prosper, without the divine blessing. This must be the crown of" your undertakings, or you labour in vain. If you know any thing ofthe spirit of prayer, you make it your con stant request, that all your doings may prosper, as far as they will promote the glory of God, and no further. In answer then, to your own petition, God must withhold his blessing from your most laudable employments, if they do not lie in the direct path pf duty. On this account you have no rational prospect of success. If you do succeed, be assured that some root of bitterness will spring up from the very accomplish ment of your purposes. To continue your studies, therefore, under existing circumstances, would be to subject yourself to certain vexation and disappointment. 'On the other hand, I would remind you,'that if you simply attend to your duty, and resolutely forego the most beloved pursuits the moment they come into competition with it, there is no fear that you should lose any thing by such conduct. He who made and who preserves your intellectual faculties, can surely enable them to retain anything that will be really useful to you. Your small stock of knowledge will, with his blessing, carry you further than the acquisition of the whole circle of human science could do without it. We may affirm of intellectual gains, no less than of those which are gross and tangible, that " a little that a righteous man hath is better than the riches of many wicked." We are commanded to " be careful for nothing, but in every thing to make our re quests known unto God." You may therefore, in faith, com mit your studies and acquirements to Him. You may freely ask, and confidently expect, that he will take care of them for you, and return them to you, whenever they shall be wanted for his service.' The lawfulness of study being proved, its expediency, im portance, and responsibility, are next considered. ' But perhaps the contrary to all this is your case. You feel that you can devote a certain portion of your time to study, without infringing upon any prior and more imperious de mand of duty. If it be thus with you, your studies are un doubtedly lawful. It only remains to inquire, how far they may be expedient for you. ' Of this, you must yourself be the best judge. It must de pend on a variety of circumstances, the particular bent of your talent; the opportunities of improvement which lie with in your reach ; your present situation, or your future pros pects in life. Let us suppose that all or any of these combine in such a. degree, as to give you reason to hope that your studies may open a door of usefulness. I shall endeavour to convince you, that no fancied dread ofthe snares and tempta tions attendant upon human learning ought to deter you from the pursuit of it. In your case the acquisition of knowledge is not merely a permitted employment, but a positive duty. God has made nothing in vain. He has given us nothing, which we may not use to his glory. This we admit without reluctance in reference to every minor blessing, with which his bounty has enriched us. We acknowledge, that our health, time, riches, influence, are all entrusted to us for God's ser vice, and capable of being used to his glory. But do not they make a strange exception to this general admission, who so roundly assert the utter inefficiency of human reasoning, and of human learning ? If so many things, which we possess in common with unbelievers, may yet be legitimately improved to the glory of God, why is the understanding to be excepted ? Why must that bestand fairest of God's common gifts be suf fered to lie waste, only because it is a common one ? None can deprecate more earnestly than I do the idea, that the un assisted light of human reason can ever, make us wise unto salvation. But shall we therefore say, that the reason takes; no part whatever in our reception of truth ? Remember, that he who gives you spiritual teaching is the very same, who gave you this human understanding. He gave you not the former to supersede and overpower, but to guide and enlighten, the latter. Both are alike his gifts ; and though the one is inferior to the other, and useless without its aid, yet we must neither neglect nor despise it. Nothing that he gives can be worthless. So much for reason itself. And as for those parts of human learning, which contribute to strengthen and im prove this faculty, they also are given by God ; means which he has adapted to the fulfilment of no ignoble purpose. We are just as much bound to use those instruments, which Pro vidence has placed within our reach for the cultivation of .our understandings, as we are bound to attend to the culture of our fields. Nay, unless we deny that our minds are better things than our fields, we are more called upon to encourage the growth of the former than of the latter. If God has' given. you superior faculties, and the means of improving them, there cannot be a more manifest token, that he intends they should be improved. The parable of the talents is never more fairly exemplified, than when, in the way of duty, we go and trade with the natural abilities which our Divine Master has distri buted to .us, till we can bring them back to him with, the grateful acknowledgment, " Lord, thy pound hath gained ten pounds.*'' ' If then you are possessed of superior powers of mind, re member, that the source from whence they emanate is divine. Esteem the gift very highly for the Giver's sake ; and seek to bring it to that perfection, of which he has made it sus ceptible. Use your talents, as not abusing them. Keep them in the dependent, subordinate station which they are intended to occupy. Expect not from them more than they are capa ble of performing. But expect something from them. Do something with them. Cannot you find any use for them ? Take them to God. He has large fields for their employment. There is ample room in his vineyard. Pray that he would send you forth to labour in some way or other in that plente ous harvest, whose labourers are so few. There is nothing so sweet as this simple committal of your way to one, who is infinitely able to guide and protect you in it. " In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths." Then they become paths of usefulness indeed. The most brilliant fancy, the profoundest judgment, clearest understand ing, the most extensive learning, are in themselves less than nothing. But intreat the blessing of God upon them ; and you shall find they will be worth just so much as he pleases. The infidel exerts the whole force of his understanding, blinded as it is by the god of this world, in opposing the doctrine ofthe cross. Let yours, illumined by a beam from the fountain of light, be no less unequivocally devoted to the service of the cross. Think not the time lost that you spend in study, if you are studying in and for God. Do not say ; ' I, will lay aside the vanity of human learning, and trust only to the di vine teaching for powers of sound argument and appropriate expression.' You might with equal justice say, ' I will" aban don the superfluous toil of ploughing my lands, and confide in Providence for a plentiful crop.' It is true in both these cases that the increase cometh from God only ; but it is no less true, that he will have the planting and the watering to be ours. God will not help you, if you refuse to help yourself. The trust ofthe slothful is an impious and a foolhardy trust. His mind, like his vineyard, shall be grown over with weeds. 'In intellectual, as well as in spiritual gifts, "the Spirit divideth unto every man severally as he will.'I Thus we read, that " Bezaleel was filled with the Spirit of God, in all man ner of workmanship, to work all manner of work, of the en graver, and of the cunning workman, and of the embroiderer." And ifthesemeaner talents come directly from him, how much more the nobler properties of the understanding ! Are you in debted to his bounty for the possession of a piercing and com manding intellect, and strong powers of reason ? I am sure he did not give them to you for nothing ? Why fold that napkinf round them ? It is your Lord's treasure. What possible right have you to "bury it in the earth?" Do what you will with your own, if indeed you can find any thing which is your own. But beware how you trifle with what is his. He is coming, and will expect to " receive it with usury." MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 197 ' Consider, had those powers of mind belonged to you as the bondman of Satan, how would you have toiled to perfect them for his service ! How much mischief would you have contrived to do with them ! And shall " the Lord's freeman" take no pains to improve his talents in his Redeemer's cause ? Shall no good be done with them, now that they are Christ's ? It is in truth a strange doctrine, that they must lie- dormant, because Satan has no longer any claim upon their exertion. ' Why is it, that we have such a dread of calling in the aid of our reasoning powers ? Is it not, because we look upon rea son as something of our own ? If we reason in faith, is it not the Spirit of our Father speaking -within us, just as much as in any other mode of addressing the unconverted ? If we em ploy human means only so far as we have the warrant of Scripture, of past experience, and of present providences ; if we cultivate our faculties in the humblest and simplest de pendence upon God ; surely this is neither making flesh our arm, nor «« leaning to our own understanding." ' Some difficulties connected with study are then discussed in interesting connexion with Christian principles. ' I cannot but attribute many of the difficulties which per plex and obstruct the Christian student, to his not studying sufficiently in faith. We do not pursue our intellectual con templations in the same simple, child-like dependence, which we are sometimes enabled to carry into our other duties. We make study an employment too entirely secular. We are apt to consider it as something wholly apart from religion. It is one of those subjects, upon which we do not permit ourselves to converse freely with our heavenly Father. To apply to him at every step for counsel and assistance, would convey to us an idea of presumption. We are afraid to trifle with the majesty of God, by expecting that he will take an interest in the mere earthly improvement of the intellect. That he both gave us this intellect, and bestowed on us the means of its cultivation, is admitted by us beyond the possibility of a doubt. We adore the bounty which has adorned and enrich ed us. But we hesitate to believe in a condescension, which shall stoop to notice the petty progress of each minute portion of this intellect, and make its daily and hourly advancement the object of benevolent concern. I would not, my beloved fellow Christians, utter one single expression, which might impair your veneration for the Divine Majesty. But in this timid reserve I perceive no marks of genuine veneration. Your privilege is to draw near to God with the tender rever ence, the sacred familiarity, of a beloved child. To shrink from his presence with the retiring fearfulness of a slave, is to dishonour the scripture representation of his attributes. And in which of your earthly affairs can you hope that the be nevolence of your Father will be interested, if not in the cul tivation of your reason? It is the gift, by which he has distinguished you from the rest of his earthly creation. It is that, which stamps you with the impress of Divinity, which tells you, you are born to immortality. The immensity of condescension by which the Most High bends his regard to any of our paltry concerns, is indeed beyond conception, as it is beyond praise. But if, where all is so unworthy, I might dare to mention one thing as less unworthy of his notice, it would be the progress of the mind. We " are fearfully and wonderfully made." But our intellectual faculties are the surpassing wonder, the crowning excellence of God's creation. The countless worlds that are scattered over the infinity of space, declare the glory of God. The magnificence which created, the strength which upholds, the wisdom which gov erns the mighty system, afford inexhaustible matter of won der and adoration. But the intellect, which is able to reflect upon all this, is something far more admirable, in which the glory of God is more greatly conspicuous. The original for mation of reason is not, however, more wonderful, than tbe improvement of which it is capable. A man of a highly cul tivated understanding appears altogether a being of a different order from one*g*holly destitute of the advantages of educa tion. Reason, as it is the noblest of our faculties, so it is the most capable of being conducted to a high degree of perfection. And God is glorified in the perfection of his works. When therefore you cannot confidently look for communion with God in the exercises of your understanding; when you are afraid to expect his co-operation in the use of the meanest of those human aids which he has given you for its improvement, it can only be accounted for in two ways. This hesitation proceeds eith er from the absence of a religious motive, or from an infirmity of faith. If you have nO decidedly religious mo tive for your studies, I do not see how, with any colour of propriety, you can devote yourself to them at all. I am not surprised to hear, that doubts and difficulties throng your path But if you are seeking to cultivate your understanding with a single eye to God's glory, you may so conduct each one of your literary employments as to enjoy his presence all the time you are engaged in it. You may draw near to God, even in your studious hours. He will not despise any thing that you do for him. His love accepts your worthless ser vices with as much complacency as the princely obedience of an angel. I repeat it; to study in faith, in a humble, simple, child-like faith, removes every perplexity and temptation inci dent to its pursuit. Your employments will then cease to appear altogether secular. Cultivating your reason as God's gift, and assured, that he beholds not with indifference your feeble attempts to glorify him in this greatest wonder of his creative power ; its commonest exercises will become in a measure sacred as the exercises of religion. Spiritual im provement, with no lingering step, will accompany your intellectual progress. " Holiness to the Lord" will be written upon the most trivial of your studies.' The influence of a vain-glorious spirit, as the canker upon this holy principle of faith, is pointedly illustrated. ' When once the thought of what men will say of us is permitted to mingle with our studies, all spiritual comfort in them is at an end. Onr.faith must necessarily languish. It can no longer be a living faith, an active principle. " How can ye believe, which receive honour one of another?" was the severe rebuke of Jesus to the vain-glorious Pharisees. When I observe a Christian delighted with the homage that is paid to his eloquence, his judgment, or his taste, should he tell me, that his " love is not waxing cold," that his faith is as strong as when none but God cared for his obscure name, I should be beyond measure astonished at such a cir cumstance, if indeed I could credit its reality. But in truth, the assertion only proves that the man's heart must be al ready " hardened through the deceitfulness of sin ;" or that he has never known what true faith is, for " how can he be lieve," so long as he is " receiving honour from men ?" ' The snare of self-indulgence connected with study, is most profitably treated. 'I have all along supposed, that you are studying with a view to the benefit of others, rather than to your own gratifi cation. Yet even in this case self-indulgence may insinuate itself into your pursuits. If you possess a talent for them, they will prove so attractive to you, that you will become attached to them for their own sake. You will be tempted to prolong your pleasing employments, and suffer them grad ually to steal something from the time appointed for other duties. We have already touched upon the absorbing nature of our mathematical studies, and the intellectual disadvantages which ensue from giving way to their silent encroachments. These, however, are of small moment, when compared with their corroding influence upon our spiritual enjoyment. An excessive fondness for these abstruse meditations, a habit of indulging in them for their own sake, will be as a worm at the root of our communion with God. A lamentable declen sion from his ways, will be the probable consequence. By insensible degrees the thoughts of our literary pursuits will begin to mingle with our serious meditations. Then the hour of study will break in upon the hour of prayer, and per haps in time may totally interrupt or supersede it. Who can tell the train of evils which will follow such an intermission of our spiritual watchfulness ? When prayer is omitted, study is unsanctified. Every selfish motive has free permission to enter ; nay, is invited, as it were, to take possession of the heart, whose sentinel has thus deserted his post. And with what impertinent excuses do we entertain conscience all the time! 'I am just now so occupied, that I am scarcely in frame for prayer. Were I to attempt it, I should find it im possible to disengage my thoughts from the busy, perplexing reflections which have taken fast hold of them. When I have followed out these investigations to some satisfactory con clusion ; when I have considered this or that point a little more fully ; when I have conquered this difficulty, or corrected that mistake, then my mind will be in a placid uninterrupted frame. Then shall be my hour of prayer. I shall then be take myself to my spiritual duties with tranquillity and de light ; whereas now they would be a weariness, a formality.' Thus the hour of prayer is put off to " a more convenient season." Our contemplations detain us longer than we had anticipated. The evening shades thicken round us; still we are deeply engaged in our inquiry ; still unsatisfied with the result. Midnight surprises us at our labours ; and at last the lateness of the hour warns us to repose, before we have found time to pray. A sense of languor and drowsiness, the natural result of our intense mental exertions, either quite prevents 198 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. our devotions, or compels us to insult God with a prayer from which tho heart is absent. We retire to rest with the painful feeling that we have lost a day. For every Christian must be sensible, that he cannot rob God of his portion of the day, without robbing himself of the whole. Still the deceit- fulness of sin will follow ns with a lying consolation. ' It is but one day; to-morrow I shall awake refreshed, and my first thoughts shall be with God.' Let us not silence conscience with this deceitful plea. If I am not greatly mistaken, this one lost day is the forerunner of many more. Our foot has begun to slide, our steps to decline. To a heart prone to depart from God, this retrograde motion is natural and easy, while the effort to regain a forward progress is immensely difficult. The sin to which we have yielded to-day, will revisit us to-morrow with more urgent solicitations. Self, having obtained the indulgence of one da}"-, will plead hard for another. To make no more than one deviation from the straight path, is infinitely more difficult than not to deviate from it at all. " The backslider in heart shall be filled with his own ways." Perhaps the very circumstance of having a religious motive for study, may then be used by us as a cloak to hide our defection. 'All my pursuits are designed to fit me for engaging in God's service. I cannot therefore go very much out of the way of duty, by devoting to them a little more time than prudence might otherwise have dictated. My present diligence will one day be turned to account in the cause of religion; it cannot therefore be wholly misplaced.' Thus, in the plenitude of self-indulgence, we can talk to our selves about our zeal for the Lord Hosts. Our conduct re sembles that of the priests, who " offered polluted bread upon the altar, and then said, ' Wherein have we polluted thee?' " If we would offer any acceptable service to God, it must not be thus defiled with self. " Hath the Lord as great delight in" our worthiest pursuits, "as in obeying the voice of the Lord ?" We are told that " to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams." Our poor worthless attempts in the cause of our Redeemer can be of no value, but as they are accepted by God through his intercession. How foolish then to imagine that we can succeed, while we ne glect thus offering them to God in frequent and faithful prayers ! If we will work in our own strength, we must expect to be left to such success as our own strength is able to ensure. ' Do you, upon serious reflection, perceive that you are now yielding in any way to this self-indulgent temper? Let me earnestly recommend a temporary cessation, if possible, from the employments that have ensnared you. A month, a week, in some cases even a day, rescued from your too fondly cher ished occupations, and devoted to earnest prayer for future preservation and direction, may enable you to resume them without danger. But, as you value your peace and spiritu ality of mind, beware of returning to them, till you experience so much sweetness in heavenly things, as to make the very best of earthly things appear trifling and insipid in the com parison. The memory of Henry Martyn is sacred to every Christian student. The rule by which he regulated his lite rary pursuits, deserves to be called the golden rule of study. Let us cany it into all the parts of human learning. It will strip them of every excessive and ensnaring attraction. ' So deep,' says his biographer, ' was his veneration for the word of God, that when a suspicion arose in his mind, that any other book he might be studying was about to gain an undue influence over his mind, he instantly laid it aside; nor would he resume it, till he had felt and realized the paramount ex cellence ofthe Divine oracles.' She adverts to what she had said above, as suggesting a safe-guard against some temptations of self-sufficiency and self-dependence. 'The only effectual remedy I have met with, is to consider human reason and spiritual teaching in one respect exactly in the same point of view : I mean, as both freely bestowed by God, to be increased, continued, or suspended, at his plea sure. I would consider every little improvement in my stu dies ; the smallest extension of my intellectual powers ; the least ray of light that shines in upon my natural reason, when engaged in the commonest earthly speculations ; all these I would consider as coming just as directly and absolutely from the Spirit of my God, as I do those sacred influences which inform and comfort my spiritual existence. Ceasing to look upon reason as our own, we should cease to lean upon it with a misplaced confidence. What we expect from it would be expected from the God to whom it belongs, not from our selves, who have no right in it. The only way to preclude all glorying and trusting in our own things, is, to have nothing of our own. Then, when all is God's, we can neither confide too much, nor expect too largely. Thus David acted. He said, " I will not trust in my bow, neither shall my sword save me." Did he therefore resign the use of the sword and of the bow ? No : but he ascribed the strength which moved his arm in wielding them to God ; " It is God that girdeth me with strength ;" " He teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight." There is nothing so reasonable or so delight fui as this unreserved ascription of all our intellectual powers to " God our Maker, who teacheth us more than the beasts ofthe earth, and maketh us wiser than the fowls of heaven." He who thus realizes the property of God in his reasoning faculties, may without arrogance indulge in anticipation of their usefulness, which to a weaker faith, would seem the height of presumption. It is not that he esteems the instru ment too highly; but that, viewing it as God's instrument,he can set no bounds to its efficiency. He does not imagine that his own arm can bring victory. But through God he knows he shall do valiantly. He enters deeply into the prophet's feelings; "I cannot speak, for I am a child." But the answer of the Lord is graven upon his memory ; " What- sover I command thee thou shalt speak." He is ready to exclaim with Moses, " Who am I, that I should go upon the Lord's errand ? I am slow of speech, and of a slow tongue." But his diffidence vanishes before the firm assurance that God " will be with his mouth, and teach him what to say." To cultivate our reasoning powers with this absolute hope lessness of their single efficacy, and these large expectations from them as instruments in the hand of God, is to bring a certain blessing upon all that we do with them. Hope nothing from yourself. Think nothing too great to hope from the bounty of your God. A firm adherence to this simple rule would enable you to bring your reason to the highest degree of perfection ; for God will honour those who thus honour him. " Cease then from your own wisdom." "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not to your own un derstanding." Sure I am that if your trust be thus in the Lord, he will teach you " excellent things in counsels and knowledge." You shall both "know the certainty of the words oftruth," and be able to " answer the words of truth to them that send unto you." ' Again, ' It is the perfection of intellectual enjoyment to receive reason entirely as the gift of our God, and every improvement of it, as a fresh token of his love. Every thing is good, must be good, if we view it in this light. How shall it not be good, if it comes directly from our Father's hand ? How shall it not be very good, if sanctioned by our Father's blessing? You know that " a gift is as a precious stone in the eyes of him that hath it ; whither soever it turneth, it prospereth." And then, " the blessing of the Lord, it maketh rich; and he addeth no sorrow with - it." The poorest trifle becomes valuable, if it be the gift of love. "But reason is itself a precious stone, a costly gem. When received as a gift it becomes a charmed stone, a talis man to shield from harm, and to ensure prosperity. Only acknowledge all your earthly acquirements in this light, and you shall find, that, whichever way you turn them, success shall attend your endeavours. Regard every one of your mental faculties as given to you by creating love. Rejoice in the gift, because redeeming love has restored it to you with a seven-fold blessing. Here is a shield of love, if the shield of faith appear insufficient for your defence. For will not you earnestly guard against the abuse of a thing so given and so blessed ?' Her encouragement and advice in the resistance of self-in dulgent temptations is truly excellent. ' It is encouraging to reflect, that if " you are Christ's, all things are yours." Whatever talents he has given you are yours, freely to use and improve. They are also His; therefore you may confidently expect, that he will get glory to himself out of them. And this, if I mistake not, is your wish. Your ac quirements are of no value in your eyes, except as you can use them for Christ. Begin then and end all your studies with him. Seek to find communion with God in every one of them. "Do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, and to the glory of God." The curse which clings to the best of earthly things, and which once shed its baneful influence on all your intel lectual faculties, is now taken away in Christ Jesus. Once perhaps your talents might have made you a splendid mis chief, a brilliant pest to society. Now if you use them in faith, they shall be an instrument of healing and of blessing.' The following closing remarks place the balance between intellectual and Christian wisdom with admirable clearness and beauty. ' On the whole, in attempting to decide upon the true mer- MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 199 its of human learning,- my readers will not acquit me of the charge of inconsistency, unless they bear in mind the two fold principle upon which my assertions are founded, and from which I hope I shall not appear to have deviated. On the one hand, I conceive that to enlarge and strengthen, to culti vate and refine, to enrich and beautify the intellect, is of all the objects of mere earthly attainment, incomparably the most worthy. Viewing study in this light, I cannot but speak in its favour with some degree of liveliness and pas sion, as one who has tasted, though very slightly, of the bene fits which flow from it. On the other hand, when I compare this best of earthly things with the lowest and meanest of heavenly attainments, it sinks ineffably in my esteem ; no longer possessing any intrinsic worth, but valuable only from its subserviency to these higher objects. Considering it, therefore, in this point of view, I am exceedingly fearful of overrating its efficacy. I. am led to speak of it with the cau tion due to a pursuit, which is equally capable of becoming a singular blessing, or an extraordinary snare. Thus when I weigh intellectual cultivation in any earthly balance, I cannot but adjudge to it a decided superiority. But when I place it in the balance ofthe sanctuary, I perceive that it has no weight at all, but what it derives from the blessing of God on ac companying circumstances. By affixing to human learning any independent value, we take from it that which it really has; for though exceedingly useful as a submissive attendant upon divine knowledge, it can do us nothing but harm, if we permit its entrance as a dominating usurper. 'We should be less apt to set our hearts upon the pleasure of intellect, if we reflected how much they partake of the eva nescent nature of all earthly enjoyments. When this little mo ment which we call life is fled, of what use shall our studies be to us ? Our enlarged faculties will then discern in an in stant more than a thousand lives of intense application would now enable us to discern. Our earthly pursuits and attach ments are among those " childish things, which we shall put away," when we arrive at man's estate. The very best and wisest of them are but the " summi amores puerorum, qui una cum prsetexta ponentur." While, however, we are in this fleeting state of existence, we must not despise those tempo rary delights and assistances, which the goodness of God has so wonderfully adapted to our imperfection ; nor need we fear to avail -ourselves of them with due moderation, and in a sim ple dependence upon God's blessing. But never let it be said of the Christian, that he is so much absorbed in " things temporal," as to neglect, for one moment, " the things which are eternal." ' The intrinsic excellence of these remarks render an apology for their introduction needless. The high and general im portance of the subject, the full development of its true prin ciples, the solid and expanded views, and, above all, the Christian -wisdom, spiritual simplicity, and unction "which pervade the discussion, will commend it to the profitable at tention of every intelligent reader. The treatise itself (the writer here speaks from more competent judgment than his own) might probably be considered by men of science, as not formed upon the more approved system of mathematical study; and, though displaying much power and clearness of mind, is occasionally inaccurate in definition and illustration. The practical and excursive remarks (judging from the preceding extracts, and some others hereafter to be adduced) will how ever be generally considered to possess no common value. The writer has been induced to extract so largely from this instructive manuscript, chiefly with a view to two impor tant classes of persons in the present day. In this era of re ligious excitement the minds of a large mass are at work, in quiring, or rather speculating, in a feverish state of restless ness and perplexity. Their feelings are interested, animated, and more or less intensely occupied with the engrossing sub jects now brought before the church. Yet often — among the young especially — whether from defect of education or of mental cultivation, their judgments have little power of dis crimination ; their principles are confined; and their profess ion mainly characterized by spiritual dissipation, which ex poses them to the besetting snares of a disputatious temper, self-conceit, and self-delusion. To such we would strongly recommend the principles, obligations, and advantages of Christian study, which Miss Graham has so admirably laid out before them. The solid influence of these intellectual habits upon her own character, furnishes the most satisfactory illustration of their importance. So far from diverting her at tention from the supreme concerns of eternity, they enabled her, through Divine teaching, the more steadily to concentrate her interest in habitual, enlivening, and practical contemplation. To Christian professors, whose habits and pleasures are found in the field of intellect, we cannot but observe, how much they may learn from this highly-gifted saint, of that " sim plicity and godly sincerity," that careful inspection of mo tives, that watchful subordination of natural indulgence to the supreme object of the glory of God, which can alone exclude the blast of Divine jealousy from these legitimate sources of enjoyment. All her views of science were received through a spiritual medium, and elevated her soul to the hallowed at mosphere of communion with her God. The spirit of prayer was tbe constant guard upon her intellectual studies. Never did she enter upon the daily course of tuition with her young cousin without earnestly imploring the blessing of her heavenly Father. We have already seen a specimen of her spirit of supplication on this interesting subject, upon which it would be well for the student to meditate, till his heart becomes deeply imbued with its simple spirituality and enlargement. How delightful again is the pattern set forth in one of her let ters ! Speaking of some perplexities relative to the pursuing of her studies, she adds — 'I am now resolved, God helping me, to give this week to prayer, presenting each of my stu dies to Jesus, that he may prosper and sanctify it by his Spi rit, take from it all self-love, and cause me in all my employ ments, even in the least, to aim at his glory, and to labour in his name. Join with me in this prayer.' Not less instruc tive is the practical spirit that pervaded her studies. Nothing was done for self-indulgence. Her pursuits were only val uable in proportion as they were consecrated. In every thing, to her to live was Christ. Nothing besides seemed worthy the name of life. Nothing seemed to command her interest independent of this great object. To a correspondent, who had inquired her sentiments relative to the cultivation of her mind, she writes — 'I think it may be done, with apfeyer however, and a resolution, that all that we do shall one day be employed in the service of Christ. I think the only thing is, never to lose sight of this great object. And to this end I know no other means than that of making it a subject of prayer. I have often been prevented from praying for suc cess in study, because I thought it was better only to mention spiritual wants at the throne of grace. But I now think, that after having asked a blessing upon our common occupations, we are less likely to forget the end, which alone can enable us to follow them without danger.' Apart from this holy simplicity of principle, (which is the exclusive character of the Christian Student,) ' learning' — as Mr. Baxter tersely re marks, — ' is but the pleasing of the fancy in the knowledge of unnecessary things.' Intellectual pleasures will be purchased at the fearful expense ofthe loss of heavenly communion with God. In the cultivation of this spirit, we shall be enabled to honour our God, and to receive his needful aid in literary as well as in religious pursuits. The solid advantages of study indeed will be safely enjoyed, and therefore will become a medium, by which the Divine glory will be displayed, and the presence of our God will be realized with a higher zest and a more abiding influence. But in returning to Miss Graham, we may add, that her studies were not confined to the severer branches of know ledge. She had cultivated an acquaintance with the Roman classics with considerable success.* In the field of modern * To one of her correspondents she recommends the study of the Latin Grammar, as the means of a clear understanding of 'tliat no ble language,' and of ' ennobling the intellect by the reading of the poets and historians of that language.' Two other advantages she notices — that of a more distinct and enlarged acquaintance with our own 'language, in great part deduced from the Latin,' and that of forming a good style, adding — 'that the English style of a person well-instructed in Latin acquires great richness and fertility from the number of classical and energetic words of which it is com posed. ' While however in her manuscript she points out the sub stantial advantages of this instructive field of intellect, she does not fail to advert to the restriction, which sound Christian judgment is constrained to impose upon an indiscriminate indulgence. ' If,' she observes, ' we cultivate classic literature with a view only to increase our fund of critical knowledge, we shall miss many of the benefits, which we might have derived from pursuing it with a more valuable and extensive design. The true ends of that fascinating study are to impart chasteness and elegance to the style, to enrich the mind with manly sentiments, beautiful images, and poetical associations.' She elsewhere recommends the cultivation of this field of literature as 'a corrective to' what she calls 'the cold and jejune expression, which marks the style of the mere mathematician. I acknowledge,' she adds, 'the Christian objections, that are urged, not without weight, against the study of the ancient authors. I am only advo cating them under proper restrictions, and with due moderation. Thus guarded from abuse, let them walk hand in hand with the more abstruse sciences. They will mutually aid and correct each other. A high degree of classic elegance is consistent with strong- 200 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. literature and taste, she was perfectly familiar with the French, Italian, and Spanish languages. For the first two, she had proper masters. The last she learnt from a Castilian, who was introduced to her father's house, in exchange for teaching him her own language. In order to improve her'self in the knowledge of the languages, she made considerable use of them in mutual correspondence with her young friends. For the same purpose she translated Goldsmith's Vicar pf Wakefield (a work not congenial to her taste, but selected as a good specimen of English style) into French, Latin, and Spanish, and commenced an Italian version. She made a similar use of Gil Bias, to perfect herself in the Spanish language for an important object, which will shortly be no ticed at length. She appears, however, to have ultimately relinquished this work for a reason equally characteristic of her good sense and Christian simplicity, ' Should I become,' she writes to her correspondent, 'perfect mistress of the pleasing and pregnant style of Gil Bias (of which I intend to write at least two volumes,) it would be almost too light for the serious subject on which I wish to write.' In the same spirit the project even of these two volumes seem to have been quickly laid aside. The next week she writes to the same correspondent : ' I told you that I had begun to write Gil Bias very diligently. But yesterday I thought of the folly of thus employing myself about a work in which I wished Christ to do all. I am therefore determined to give the re mainder of this week and the following to reading the Bible with prayer. The best English writers were familiar to her, especially the standard works connected with the philosophy of the mind. She appears to have made herself thoroughly acquainted with the principles of Locke. She speaks in one of her letters of reading his important Essay on the Conduct of the Under standing -for the twentieth time with renewed interest, and recommends to her correspondent the study of this work with great earnestness, as the means of giving her an increased thirst for pursuits purely intellectual. Stewart was read with much improvement to herself. Butler's Analogy was also upon her first shelf. The following letter to her cousin gives a lively and intelligent view of her interest in these' vajuable writers. Hastings, July 26, 1823, ' I am very glad that you like Butler ; I found, as you do, not only that he is humble himself, but that he inspires his readers with sentiments of humility. He shows them the littleness of human reason, and how weak it is where it will not submit to the light of revelation. I will tell you the good Stewart has done me. I have long felt that all the ef forts I have made to obtain true knowledge have been almost useless. Stewart has shown me the reason of this. It is because I have always allowed the greatest confusion in my ideas. I have never arranged them. He has shown me that my mind is like a large sack filled with rubbish of all kinds, and where perhaps something that is useful may be found, but all is packed together in so confused a manner, that whosoever sought for it would be seeking a needle in a bundle of hay. I am almost in despair ; however I am re solved to make every effort to arrange a little better the confused mass, and I am more than ever convinced, that the only sure way of having the head filled with clear and well-defined ideas is to accustom oneself to put one's thoughts upon paper. I must tell you a resolution which I desire to execute : it is to write down from time to time all the new ideas and facts, whether original or acquired by reading or conversation, which I have gained. By doing this we should know the progress which our minds make; and we shoud not forget, as we now do, tbe ideas which pass through the mind without making any impression, but which might be very useful if gathered together, and reserved to a proper occasion.' Her acquaintance with the Greek language only extended to the reading of the Greek Testament. The further progress in this department of literature was hindered- by her applica tion to other studies necessary for the superintendance of the education of her cousin. She was proposing to commence the study of Hebrew, but increasing indisposition precluded her from engaging in any new branch of study that excited her interest and exercised her habits of application. powers of sound argumentation. The combination forms a style of reasoning as pleasing as it is convincing. The simplicity of a mathematical style is thus kept from degenerating into poverty, and its cautious correctness is not permitted to stiffen into a frozen sterility-' Miss Graham studied the theory of music with much at tention, and wrote a short hut correct development of its principles* for the use of a young cousin, then preparing for the situation of governess, and whom, as" we have before hinted, she had in part educated for this important sphere with anxious pains and interest. Apart from this object, she would not probably have devoted so large a* portion of her valua ble time to this study, as it was a matter of frequent concern to her t'o observe the preponderance given to this elegant and fascinating science above the more solid and useful ac complishments. In some of her lively- exercises of mind she took up the subject of Chemistry with great delight, making long extracts from the books which she had read, and going over every part till she thoroughly understood it. Without having any more definite object for this study, she felt that some absorb ing occupation of this character wgs necessary to beguile the long and wearisome hours of sickness. For the same object Botany also attracted her attention. Thus with various and successive occupations her mind was always maintained in active, intelligent, and profitable exercise. A striking fea ture of her character (one which entered into her recreations equally with her studies, and which formed the basis of her high mental superiority) was a total concentration of every power of thought and feeling, in the object of pursuit imme diately before her.f Indeed, as her father observes, ' she followed Solomon's advice in every thing she undertook. " Whatsoever thine hand findeth to do, do it with thy might!'" Her peculiar singleness of aim preserved her in the midst of her intellectual employments from the baneful influence of self-indulgence, and stimulated her to apply her literary pur suits to valuable practical purposes. Her great object in the study of the Spanish language, was to obtain a medium of communication with the Spanish refugees. The discovery of a strong tincture of infidelity among them, combined, with the recollection of her own fall, to excite a compassionate, earnest, and sympathizing concern on their behalf. The second part of ' The Test of Truth' opens with an exquisitely touching view of her feelings on this painful subject. Indeed the work contains the substance of her communications with some of those interesting but unhappy men. It was sent to them, with much and earnest prayer, upon the eve of their departure from England. She had intended to have translated some ofthe most striking extracts from Paley and other writers upon the Evidences of Christianity, and in one of her letters she men tions having no less than eleven English volumes before her- mind for this purpose. Finding, however, that Paley had been translated, , she purchased the work, and sent it to her Spanish friends with her own. The following notices will give an interesting view of the exercises of her mind and faith strongly called out towards these objects of her compassion, alter she was removed from immediate intercourse with them. Sept. 8, 1825. ' As to my Spanish, we have been so busy .about the schools, that I have not been able to do much. But I find a delightful confidence thafthisbook, havingbeen the suggestion of Christ, and belonging to him, and not to ine, will be blessed by him. I have read one part of ' Las Ruinas,'-|: and in reading it I was struck with the reflection, that the best answer would be a continual reference to the word of God. I thought there fore of placing my observations on the blank pages, and of * A Letter to a young Piano Forte player. f One of her letters gives a graphical picture of this remarkable concentration of mind. Plymouth, May 10, 1825. '¦ When the fury of learning takes possession of me, I cannot think of any thing else. If I am seized with a fit for studying any parti cular thing, I cannot give my mind to any other studies, however much I usually delight in them. I now wish to study Spanish and Music. But I am so carried away with my ancient mania for Mathematics, that, although my head aches, and I cannot think with out inconvenience of any thing, I am perpetually puzzling my brains to resolve questions which will never be of any use to me. It is said, that every thing is given for some good. I cannot imagine why I have been endued with this invincible propensity to a study, which is always diverting me from more useful and feminine occupations.' This letter, it will be remarked, was written several years before her Treatise on Mathematical Study, and before the important in tellectual and moral benefit of that study, which her Treatise so fully develops, had opened to her mind. $ Volney's Ruins of Palmyra, translated into the Spanish — an in fidel work of much authority with her Spanish friends. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 201 filling the margin of the printed paper with references. I be seech you to pray, that if I be not a fit instrument for the con version of the souls of these poor Spanish exiles, the Holy Spirit would be pleased to raise up some other.' .Miss Graham obtained a copy of the book, interleaved with blank paper for the insertipn of her remarks. She did not however complete this task, thinking that the simple ar gument of ' The Test of Truth' was better adapted for her purpose. April 9, 1827. * Last week my blessed Master gave me the power of writ ing in his name to the poor Spaniards. I have written three sheets in English. But as I have not studied Spanish for a long time, I find myself in some difficulty, and must give this week to the language. Next week I hope to translate what I have written, and to send it to you ; if you will oblige me by seeing it put into" their hands. My faith in seeing them converted to God increases every day. At present, " the strong man armed keepeth his palace, and his goods are at peace." " But I have a confidence given me from hea ven, that I shall see the " stronger than he," who will con quer him, and " take from him all his armour wherein he trusted." I may not perhaps see this while I am here ; but 1 shall not rejoice the less, because I see it in heaven.' About a month afterwards, we find her mind deeply exer cised upon this work of labour and love. May 5, 1827. 'I wrote the Spanish book in the name of Jesus, and in the belief that he would give me a spirit and a wisdom, which by nature I do not possess. I had a strong faith in the promises of God to manifest himself in his own time to his own elect, But in the way of preparing to send it, my faith vanishes, and I have now Only " an evil heart of unbelief."* To say to all the bones in the church-yard at Stoke, " O ye dry bones, hear the word of the Lord," — would almost seem to me easier than to say the same thing to souls dead in infidelity. How ever, I feel that I have courage even for this, since " Jesus is the resurrection and the life," because all the glory will be to him alone; and because he has assured me, that having con fided myself to him, my expectations can never be disappoint ed.' The next letter was sent some months afterwards, with 'The Test of Truth,' and 'Paley's Evidences.' Dec. 20, 1827. 'I send you Paley, which pleases me very much, with the letter, in which, without entering upon any argument about the Evidences, &c. I have leant upon the simple proposition, that God having promised in the Scriptures to give his Spi rit to whoever asks it with sincerity, must either keep his promise, or not be God ; and I have endeavoured to show them, that according to their own principles they are without excuse, if they neglect to seek their Creator in this manner. But if even now it do not succeed, it has been a blessing to me ; it has been the cause of many prayers, of many sweet moments of communion with Jesus. I cannot therefore but hope, that in the time and manner which please him, my prayers will be answered. I recommend these unhappy peo ple to you. Pray for them often and fervently; possibly amongst them may be found some of those who were " cho sen before the foundation of the world." ' In another letter formerly quoted, after having begged her friend to join with her in prayer for a blessing upon her stu dies, she added in conclusion — ' And pray for me, that I may have something to say to those poor Spaniards, and that my love for them may not grow cold.' The full result of her prayers and " trials of faith" on be half of her Spanish friends, is among the secrets which " the day will declare." Meanwhile, what Christian can fail to be invigorated by this exhibition of prayer, faith, self-denial, and patient hope in the work of our Divine Master ? Allusion has been already made to a disinterested project which she had formed of devoting herself to. the work of tu ition. To her cousin, she writes as if her heart was full of itr-' I think of it day and night. The opportunity of my ill ness appears to me excellent for preparing myself for my plan, if the ability for putting it into execution should be grant- Her care and anxiety for ed me.' Her gracious Lord however was pleased to accept her in the desire, not in the performance of her work. Pro tracted indisposition hindered her from giving any definite shape or execution to the plan, which only remains on record, as one among the many instances of the ceaseless activity with which her energies were employed in the service of her Redeemer, and of his Church. It is natural to expect to see her a " fellow-worker with God," in the daily course of active devotedness. She was a constant visiter of the poor in the most miserable abodes, un der circumstances trying to her delicate frame and tender spi rit. For some time she took a daily and somewhat distant walk through an uninviting part of the city, to spend an hour with a dying young woman, whose case had deeply interested her, and to whom there is every reason to believe that she was found the blessed messenger of life and salvation. Her sympathy was much called out by the temporal wants of the poor. Much of her leisure timewas employed in working for their benefit. A large chest of useful articles of clothing was constantly kept in her own room, while the opportunities of dis tribution were always improved as means of spiritual instruc tion to the objects of her consideration. Her Sabbaths were entirely devoted to the service of God. She became ateacher in the Christ Church Sunday School, and though she was often exhausted at the close of the day by the continued ex citement of her exertions, yet she ever counted her toil in the work of Christ to be her highest privilege and delight. Upon her removal from London, the interest of her intel lectual mind continued to be called forth in the employment of a village sphere. A deep and abiding constraint of re deeming love regulated every mental effort. Though she diligently improved her retirement in adding to her already well-furnished storehouse ; yet she chiefly regarded it as the means of secretly recruiting her strength for the service of God. Hers was not the mind to repose luxuriously in 'the Castle of Indolence.' Hers was not the soul that could rest even in spiritual self-indulgence, insensible to the urgent calls of active duty. Even her delicate health was not suffered to preclude her from the self-denying exercise of Christian de votedness. During the first summer of her country residence, she regularly attended at the parish workhouse at seven o'clock, to explain the scriptures to the poor previous to the commencement of their daily labour. This however, like every other " labour of love," was an exercise of her faith and conflict with the great enemy. She mentions to her cou sin the repugnance, which at one time she found to this work, and her yielding to the temptation of deferring it from day to day. V et it was not long before she found the victory of faith over inertion ; and gladly did she give the praise to Him, who enabled her to make a successful effort ; ' I told them of my intention' she writes ' to go every morning to pray with them, and read the word of God. My Saviour removed every difficulty out of thetway, and caused the women to receive me with the greatest civility. The children of the parish were the objects of constant solicitude. She wrote a few simple addresses for their use. She drew out also questions upon the parables and miracles for the assistance ofthe Sunday School Teachers ; and, when prevented by indisposition from attending the school, she as sembled the children at her own house for Scriptural instruc tion. The young women also in the parish occupied a large share of her anxious interest ; and, finding them unwilling to assemble at the same time and place with the children, she appropriated a separate evening for their instruction. She was, as might be supposed, a constant cottage visiter. The following beautiful extract from her mathematical manuscript will show the high and consecrated spirit with which she connected this humble ministration with her intellectual plea sures. Warning her Christian student ofthe dangerous snare of self-complacency,* she inquires of him — * Her remarks upon self-complacency are so just and searching, that the writer is tempted to add them in a note- " Self-complacency is another of tliose temptations, to which the student is pemliarly exposed. He may so far distrust his own heart, as to abstain from ' doing any thing through strife or vain glory. ' He may keep out ofthe way of human praise. And yet there may be an inward complacency, a proud consciousness of superiority, equally destructive to his growth in grace. He ' thinks of himself more highly than he ought to think.' He courts not the breath of applause: but he drinks in the intoxicating vapour of self-gratulation and es- There are some men, in whom pride stifles the impulses of As a token of affectionate Sympathy, as well as some acknowledge- because they think so well of tliemselv-es Their own opinion needs ment for ^ah able instruction received, she gladly appropriated the no confirmation. Their solitary plaudit is so abundantly satisfac- oceeds of her Musical Tract to the fund rlised for their relief. tory, that the buzz of admiring multitudes would be a superfluous proc Vol. II— 2 A 202 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. ' Do you ever experience this proud internal consciousness of superior genius or learning? God has placed a ready an tidote within your reach. The abode of learned leisure is seldom far from the humble dwelling of some unlettered Christian. Thither let your steps be directed. " Take sweet counsel with your poor uneducated brother." There you will find the man whom our " King delighteth to honour." His mean chamber, graced with one well-worn book, is as " the house of God, and the very gate of heaven." Observe how far the simplicity of his faith, and the fervour of his love, ex ceed any thing you can find in your own experience, cankered as it is with intellectual pride. God has taught him many lessons, of which all your learning has left you ignorant Make him your instructor in spiritual things. He is a stran ger to the names of your favourite poets and orators. But he is very familiar with " the sweet psalmist of Israel." He can give you rich portions of the eloquence of one, who " spake as never man spake." He can neither " tell you the number of the stars, nor call them all by their names." But he will discourse excellently concerning " the star of Bethlehem.", He is unable to attempt the solution of a difficult problem. But he can enter into some of those deep things of God's law, which to an unhumbled heart, are dark and mysterious. He will not talk to you "in the words which man's wisdom teacheth ;" but oh ! what sweet and simple expressions of divine love are those "which the Holy Ghost has taught him !" He " knows nothing but Christ crucified •" but this is the ex cellent knowledge, to which all other knowledge is foolish ness. He has " the fear ofthe Lord ; that is wisdom. He departs from evil ; that is understanding." When your soul is refreshed by this simple and lowly communion with one of the meanest of God's saints, return to your learned retire ment. Look over your intellectual possessions. Choose out the brightest jewel in yonr literary cabinet. Place it by the side of " the meek and quiet spirit" of this obscure Christian. Determine which is the " ornament of greater price." Com pare the boasted treasures of your mind with the spiritual riches of your illiterate brother. Run over the whole cata logue. Let not one be omitted; the depth of your under standing, the strength of your reasonings, the brilliancy of your fancy ; the fire of your eloquence. Be proud of them. Glory in them. You cannot. They dwindle into insignifi cance. They appear to you " as a drop of a bucket, as the small dust ofthe balance." ' The following letter gives a beautiful illustration ofthe truly Christian spirit, with which she inculcated upon her friends the responsibility of persevering effort in the work of God: Stoke, August 4, 1825. 'I think that visiting the poor is an excellent help to spir ituality of mind, because it shows us our own weakness, when we lose sight for a moment of the strength of Christ. It also brings to light many secret corruptions, of which we were before ignorant. I am very anxious to hear about the Infant School. Do not be discouraged by the cold answers of . Rather pray for them, that more faith may be given to them, and a spirit of love for the souls that are perishing around them. Such a prayer offered in faith by one Christian for another will bring down a blessing upon both. I am very sorry that I was angry with , instead of praying for her. I do not think that Christians pray enough for each other. Perhaps the Lord is proving your faith and love by making you wait in this cause. If it be so, do not doubt his power to carry you through all you undertake in his name. From the mouth of the children for whom you are interested, he will cause his praises to be sounded. Do " not" then, " be weary in well-doing." If you have not already begun, let me advise you not to begin, till you have given a special time to the scriptures and to prayer. I desire all our undertakings to be "sanctified by the word of God and prayer." ' Then refer ring to her own intention of setting apart the next week for spiritual exercises in reference to her Spanish communica tions — she adds — ' I thought perhaps that you would give next week to these things, and that it would be^Jelightful to me to remember, that we were both thus employed at the same time. But if you cannot do this, pray at the time fixed addition. Can any thing like this be found in the disciple of Jesus ? Yes — for the law of sin still dwells in his members. Neither this sin, nor any other, shall be permitted to have dominion. (Rom. vi. 14.) But its assaults will sometimes vex and discompose him. He will be tempted, according to the natural bent of his character,' to seek the applause of others, or to rest in his own. by us, that I may have grace and faith to pass these days in dedicating myself to this work, and that we may both of us in all that we do be delivered from a self-seeking spirit, and may take every step with our eyes fixed upon the cross of Jesus. I am afraid of annoying you by this mode of speak ing of these things. But if you knew how full my heart is of tenderness, while I write, you would pardon the importu nity, with wbich I beseech you to give yourself entirely and without reserve into the hands of Christ. He can give yoii from the treasures of his grace all the zeal, love, and warmth which you need. All is ours already by virtne of his blood. Let us make use of it. Let us go to him in holy boldness, and ask for all the grace which he is so ready to give. — Psalm lxxxi. 10.' The pressure, however, of increasing illness constrained her to relinquish her own habits of personal activity forsome time previous to her death. It was her appointed dispensa tion rather to suffer, than to do, her heavenly Father's will ; while her solitary hours were cheered by the contemplation , of the glorious prospects opening now upon her view — " look- ? « ing for the mercy of her Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." CHAPTER IV. Further Extracts from her Writings and Correspondence. it is not to be expected, that the quiet tenor of Miss Gra ham's habits in a retired village could furnish much variety of incident or detail. We shall, however, abundantly com pensate for this deficiency by a more full exhibition of her fine, powerful and spiritual mind, as illustrated in her writ ings and correspondence. But this department of our work is too large to be compre hended in one mass. We will therefore set it forth in several distinct divisions, and give her sentiments upon the funda mental doctrines of the Gospel ; upon subjects of interesting theological discussion; upon some points of moment con nected with Christian experience and profession ; and upon miscellaneous subjects. 1. Her views of the great doctrines ofthe Gospel. Her apprehensions and statements of the grand funda mentals ofthe Christian faith, were eminently Scriptural. On the humbling doctrine of original sin, she justly remarks in a posthumous work : ' It is the very first lesson in the school of Christ : and it is only by being well rooted and grounded in these first principles, that we can hope to go on to perfection. The doctrine is written in Scripture as with a sun-beam. If we do not feel some conviction of it in our own hearts, it affords a sad proof that we still belong to that " generation that are pure in their own eyes, and yet is not washed from their filthiness." ' After adducing some of the most convincing Scriptural evidence, she proceeds forcibly to illustrate the subject by the case of infants. ' Would we know the reason of this indelible pollution, which fallen man has transmitted to his latest descendants ? let that given by Scripture suffice : " Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? not one." But is not the new-born babe innocent? yes, from the commission of actual sin; but not from the pollution of a nature altogether sinful : for " who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean?" " " Death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." Why then is death so often commissioned to snatch away the babe in the first hour of its existence? why, but because that babe is a sinful creature ? Sin, that root of bitterness, has already shot its fibres into the inmost soul. That infant "born of the flesh, is flesh ;" and " as such cannot please God"— cannot bring forth any other than the accursed fruits of the flesh. As surely as the cockatrice's egg will hatch into a viper, so surely will the babe born of unclean parents be itself un clean ; so surely it will be " by nature a child of wrath, even as others." And therefore it is as the Apostle tells us, that " Death reigneth over all, even over them that have not sinned after the similitude of Adam's transgression." I entertain not a doubt that these little ones are redeemed by the blood of Jesus : but that they need redemption, that they are sinners, " children of wrath by nature ;" of this truth I am equally well assured ; and every little mound in the churchyard seems to have a voice that tells me so.' Then, after citing our Church's recognition of this doctrine MEMOIR OF MARf JANE GRAHAM. 203 in the Ordinance of Infant Baptism, she returns to her Scrip tural ground of argument. 'The Holy Ghost has instructed the Apostle to give us such a full comment upon the spiritual death we all die in Adam, that we cannot too often read and pray over the follow ing passages, Rom. v. 12, 21. 1 Cor. xv. 21, 22, 45, 49. Eph. iv. 22, 24. Col. iii. 9, 10. There are many others, in which our nature in Adam is spoken of, in contradistinc tion to the new and holy nature we receive in Christ Jesus. So essential is a right understanding of this truth, that until we receive it, many of the most beautiful parts of the Church service must appear just as unintelligible to us as if they were written in an unknown language. Nay, worse than unintelligible ; they must seem extremely foolish and ridicu lous. How absurd (to an understanding not convinced of the original defilement of our nature) must it appear to talk of remitting an infant's sins; of causing the old Adam to be buried, and his carnal affections to die in him ; while all the time the hearer thinks that the infant as yet has no sins, no carnal affections ; while the very existence of the old Adam or original sin is doubted by him !' The second records of Christian experience furnish full con firmation of her humiliating statement. ' OhT what an unmeaning heap of words,' she exclaims, ' has been handed down to us in the law of Moses, the Psalms of David, the confessions of Ezra, Nehemiah, Job, Daniel, Jeremiah and the rest of God's saints, if that evil nature which caused them to groan did not really exist! Above all, what shall we make of Romans iii. and vii. ? What shall we understand by the conflict between the flesh and the Spirit, between the old man and the new man, between the carnal and spiritual affections? Was St. Paul dreaming, when he said, " I know that in me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing?" Was he beside himself, when he declared, " that he found in himself a law, that when he would do good, evil was present with him?" that, though by Divine grace he had learnt " to delight in the law of God after the inward man, yet still he saw another law in his members, warring "against the law of his mind, and bringing him into captivity to the law of sin which was in his members ?" The apostle of the Gentiles, " who laboured more abundantly than they all ;" he, who " had been caught up to the third heaven, and heard unspeakable words which it was not lawful for him to utter" amongst sinful men ; he, who " counted all things but dung, that he might win Christ;" he, who was " ready, not only to be bound, but also to die for tbe name of the Lord Jesus ;" this chosen vessel of mercy, full of zeal and full of love, and under the immediate inspiration of the Holy Ghost, so groaned under the burden of the original cor ruption of his nature, " the law of sin warring in his mem bers," that he was compelled to cry out, " 0 wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death ?" And from the time of Paul there has never been a real Chris tian, who has not often felt himself constrained to adopt his language, and to say in the anguish of his soul, " Who shall deliver me from the body of this death ?" The remedy, as is usual in Scripture, follows close upon the complaint: " I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord." ' From her mathematical manuscript we extract the follow ing method of proof ofthe total depravity of man. In speaking ofthe three modes of demonstration, Inference, Coincidence, and. Reductio ad absurdum, she thus applies the last mode to the subject alluded to : " If man be not utterly depraved, he must be in one of these two states, either perfectly good, without any mixture of sin; or good, with some admixture! of evil and imperfection. Tbe first of these suppositions car-| ries its own absurdity upon the face of it. The second is| plausible, and more generally received. Yet it is not diffi-j cull to prove, that if man had any remaining good in him, that is, towards God, he could not possibly be the creature that he now is. There could not be that carelessness about his eternal welfare, that deadness to spiritual things, which . we perceive in every individual, whose heart has not been renewed by Divine grace. Man would not love pleasure more than God. He would not prefer " the things which are seen and temporal" to " the things that are not seen and eternal." He would not trifle with sin. He would not sneer at holi ness. He would not habitually neglect to pray. 'All these things are utterly incompatible with the hy pothesis, that man is only partially fallen from God. The very least spark of innate godliness would imply a restless dissatisfaction In what is evil; an importunate longing to1 be freed from it. The man in whom such a spark of good ness existed would breathe after lost communion with his Maker. He would prefer God's will and pleasure to his own. " The honour that cometh from God only" would be dearer to him than the most splendid tribute of human ap plause. Is any thing like this to be found in man before his reception of Divine grace? No. He "lives without God in the world :" chooses his own will and pleasure, and seeks his own glory. He is utterly selfish; therefore he is utterly fallen. ' We find then that the doctrine of man's partial depravity in volves absurd consequences. Itleads to conclusions which are wholly at variance with fact. These reflections bring us back to the Scripture statement. We admit that the heart of man may yet be the seat of many noble and tender affections towards his fellow-men. But in regard to God, we declare his affections to be alienated, his understanding darkened, his will depraved. ." There is none that understandeth ; there is none that seeketh after God. They are all gone aside ; they are altogether become filthy ; there is none that doeth good, no, not one." ' The utter helplessness of man she adduces with great clear ness and power to prove, that the work of grace, from its earliest commencement to its final consummation, is " all of God." ' Grace will be given' — she observes — ' to all who dili gently seek for it. But, if we attend to the Scripture account of every man, woman, and child by nature, we shall find that this seeking also is the effect following upon grace received 'j not the cause producing it. By this I mean to say, that the very act of seeking grace proves that we have received grace already ; and that the very ability to seek, is itself the free gift of God's sovereign grace. If " every thought of man's heart is evil, and that continually," surely it is not out of that heart that the first desire of any good thing can spring. If, by nature, " there is none that seeketh after God," whence can the first attempt to seek him arise, but from free grace draw ing us contrary to nature ? Freely must grace be given to enable us to seek at first; and. freely must it be continued, to enable us to go on seeking. I know that none shall seek the Lord in vain ; none who come shall be cast out ; none who be lieve shall come short of everlasting life ; none who choose the better part shall have it taken from them ; but then none can seek the Lord, unless he first seek them. None can come, except it be given him of the Father ; — none can believe, save as many as are ordained to eternal life ; none can choose Christ, except he first choose them. If again we consider the magnitude of the change which must take place in every sinner's heart be fore he can truly and earnestly seek God, we shall be con vinced that no part of it is properly his own. He must " be born again ;" must " become a new creature ; old things must pass away, all things must become new,-" he must "pass from death unto life ;" " from darkness to light — from the power of Satan unto God ;" — " from going about to establish his own righteousness, to submit himself to the righteousness of God ;" and this, to a proud carnal heart, is the most diffi cult of all. And who is sufficient for these things? Who but He, that first formed us in the womb, can cause us to be born again ofthe Spirit ?" Who but He, that originally cre ated us, is able to " create us anew in Christ Jesus ?" Who but the giver of natural life can give spiritual life ; " and quicken those that were dead in trespasses and sins ?" ' When the Lord of life stood by the grave of Lazarus, and said — " Lazarus, come forth ; and he that was dead, instantly came forth ;" who would say, that this act of lifting himself up was the cause of his coming to life ; and not rather, that his coming to life was the cause of his being able to lift him self up ? It is thus, when Jesus by his word and Spirit says to the heart of a sinner — "Awake, thou that steepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light." In stantly that dead soul arises, and its first act is seeking, or prayer ; but this same act of seeking is the effect of spiritual life, not the cause. We pray because we are alive, not that we may live. We cannot quicken ourselves when dead in sin, any more than we can bring a dead body to life. But when Jesus has quickened us, we shall as surely perform all those actions, which demonstrate the soul to be spiritually alive, as a dead body when raised by divine power, will surely per form all the functions of a living person. Grace, great grace, must be infused, to enable us to seek at all ; and he who first gave grace to seek, will give more grace in answer to that seeking, thus fulfilling that precious Scripture, which saith — " To him that hath, shall be given." We neither be gin nor carry on the work of grace in our own hearts. " Jesus is the author and finisher," the Alpha and Omega "of our faith." From the first spark of grace that faintly glimmers 204 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. upon us here, to the full blaze of glory which shall burst upon us in heaven ; all, all is his doing; it is he that made us alive (spiritually,) not we ourselves. It is God who both begins the good work in us, and also will " perform it unto the day of Jesus Christ." ' Then after having confirmed her statement by the strong and unequivocal language of the Church, she proceeds to exhibit in connexion with it, the perfect freeness of Divine grace. ' It is absolutely necessary to a clear and full view of this doctrine, that we ascribe to the free, sovereign and unmerited grace of God, the first desire after him that ever arose in our hearts, as weil as the fulfilling of that desire when expressed in prayer. We must be convinced that nothing in the work of salvation is our own, but only the gift of God's love to us in Christ Jesus. Christ died for us when we were enemies. The benefits of his death are applied to us, for the purpose of reconciling us, not in consequence of our making any ad vances towards being reconciled. He " died for the ungodly," for those " who were without strength," without strength to come to him ; without strength to form so much as a wish to come to Him. The desire to come is given for his sake .- the ability to come is given for His sake .- the acceptance on coming is an acceptance for the beloved sake of this beloved Saviour, " without whom we can do nothing." Those who say — ' Grace will be given if we ask ; but then asking must precede or procure the given grace' — are in effect robbing God of much of the glory due unto his name. For the power and the inclination to ask are of themselves a part of the free gift of God's grace to us in Christ Jesus. They are the beginning of God's work in the heart ; and to say, that we begin this work, is no other than to say that we can create ourselves anew in Christ Jesus. I will venture to affirm, that if God waited to give us his grace till we asked him for it of our own accord, we should go without it to all eternity. ' The great source of error on this head, even amongst seri ous people, is, that they cannot bring themselves to think they have nothing of their own in the work of salvation Therefore it is, that, when constrained to acknowledge that the grace»given them when they seek, is from God only ; their self-righteousness betakes itself to another strong hold ; and we find them laying claim to their asking and seeking, as if that at least was the effort of their own will, the spontaneous act of their own power. This is just as if one should take a dead person by the hand, breathe life into him, and lift him up upon his feet ; and that person should make a show of acknowledgment to his benefactor, by allowing to that benefactor the praise of lifting him up after he was alive, and keeping him alive ever since, and yet should maintain, that the first breath of all came into him by his own spontaneous act, by the effort of his own unassisted power. The absurd ity of such an assertion with regard to temporal life, would strike us at once ; but we are not so struck with it in refer ence to spiritual life ; and the reason is this, — when we speak of a corpse, we know what we speak about, — there it lies be fore our eyes, incapable of breathing, moving, speaking. We perfectly know what we mean, when we say that a dead body cannot raise itself to life. But when we speak of a soul " dead in trespasses and sins," we too often use the phrase, merely because we find it in the Scriptures ; without the slightest conception of the awful reality expressed by it. Nor is it till we have ourselves in some measure " passed from death unto life," that we begin to perceive the dreadful and close analo gy which really exists between the two states of natural and spiritual death. If God were to come to an unconverted per son with the question — not — "Can these dry bones" — but Can these dead souls — "live !" he would be apt to reply — Why not? What should hinder them from raising them selves up, and breathing the breath of spiritnal life ? But when God has quickened us from our own death in tres passes and sins, our eyes are opened to see what spiritual death really is, and then we learn with trembling awe to reply, " Lord, thou knowest." This is thy work, ft is thou that must make us alive, and not we ourselves. ' Since then men are universally disposed to " go about establishing their own righteousness," how carefully ought we to close up every avenue through which this besetting sin might gain admittance, and rob us of our peace, by lead ing us to rob Christ of his praise ! Many are the windings of our own treacherous hearts ; many are the devices of Sa tan, by which he would tempt us to ascribe to our own strength what God has done for us of his mere mercy. Nor let us think that a mistake here can be of trifling importance. God is very jealous for his great name ; and he has declared, that " if we will not lay it to heart, to give glory to his name, he will send a curse upon us, and will even curse our bless ings." Many and glorious are the crowns which adorn the sa cred head of Immanuel ; let us not try to pluck thence the bright est and fairest of them all, for well does it become this King of kings. When we reach heaven, and receive the crown of glory, we shall be ready enough to cast that at his feet, and to say, Thou only art worthy. Let us do the same with the crown of grace here ; for surely we have as little right to ar rogate the one to ourselves as the other.' These Scriptural statements of man's total corruption are well connected with the calls of the Gospel ; not as implying man's natural free-will and power to turn to God ; but as dis playing the riches of Divine grace, as stamping the mark of guilt upon the moral inability of the sinner, and setting forth the means by which the Lord accomplishes the purposes of his everlasting love. In the valley of dry bones, to which Miss Graham has just alluded, the prophet was commanded to " call the things that be not, as though they were." The almighty power of God gave effect to the feeble voice of his servant. He fails, not to manifest the same Divine power in the resurrection of souls under the ministration of his Gospel ; while the sovereignty of his grace is not less apparent in " quickening whom he will." Perhaps, however, Bliss Graham may be considered some what defective in an exhibition of the free invitations of the Gospel. Many exclusive writers* deem it unnecessary to ad dress the language of pleading love and urgent remonstrance, where the want of inclination opposes a moral harrier to its success. But this is to obscure the riches of the grace of God by the narrow and perverted reasoning of man. Our Lord's personal ministry was in no way restrained by his perfect knowledge of the Divine purpose or of human inability. Though the objects of electing love were individually known to him, yet his gracious offers were as general, as if no coun sel had been fixed in the eternal mind, or as if he were unac quainted with its restricted object and end. Though he most decisively declared man's total inability to come to him irrespective of the sovereign application of Almighty power ; yet " his bands of love" were "the cords of a man;" suited to " draw" him as a rational and responsible creature. The freeness of Divine mercy, not the secret decree of the Divine will, was the ground and rule of his patient procedure. He spoke the glad tidings to the unbelieving Jews, " that they might be saved." He complains of them most tenderly, that " they would not come to him, that they might have life." He connected his declaration of the purpose of God with a full and faithful invitation to sinners. He offered himself inde finitely to large and mixed assemblies as the provision for the salvation of the whole world. He extended the commission of his Gospel " to every creature," and closed the special reev- lation of the future history of the church, with the same wide ly-extended embrace of inestimable mercy. Where then is the sinner that is excluded from the responsibility of believing the testimony ? Or where is he that is shut out from the en couragement of its free and large invitations ? Turning from Miss Graham's writings to her correspond ence, we find her views of the Gospel to be equally clear and encouraging. The following letter gives a distinct view of the ground of our acceptance with God ; February 15, 1828. ' Dearest . _ Join with me in admiring the mercy of our God. " For if when we were enemies we were reconciled unto God by the death of his Son, much more being reconciled, we shall be saved by His Life." " If we confess our sins, God is" — not merciful and compassionate, but "faithful and ;ust to forgive us our sins." For since " Christ once suffer ed, the just for the unjust;" since He "bore our sins in his own body on the tree ;'.' if we believe on Him, and lay hold on his salvation, justice itself cannot but acquit us. It cannot be, that Jesus should lay down His life, and that then God should require ours. It cannot be, that, when Jesus has paid the dreadful debt to the very uttermost farthing, we should be called upon to pay it once again. No. As God is a faith ful God, He must fulfil the promises He has made, that not one of all those who come to Him through Jesus, shall ever ' Miss Graham, however, must not be confounded with writers of this class. If there was an omission in her statements, (here was no defect in her system. Her private correspondence abounds with the most fervid appeals to the unconverted, and the mosf unrestricted offers of the Gospel. See the letters in Chapter v. adduced as illus trative of her ' compassionate concern for the unconverted.' MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 205 perish. As He is a just God, He will not punish us and our Surety too ; will not demand a twice-told reckoning. If in deed the atonement of Jesus were hot perfect ; if He had not suffered all, not paid all, we might tremble. But Almighty Justice declared itself satisfied, when our Surety was released from the prison of the tomb, when he sat down on the right hand of God, and took possession in our name of the inherit ance He had purchased for us; and therefore it is said, that He " was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for our justification." By His death He laid down the price of our salvation ; by His rising again He declared that the price was accepted, the salvation complete. And this seems to me the great display of God's wisdom in the cross of Christ, that the Just should be able to justify the ungodly without devia ting one tittle from His justice ; " that He should be just, and yet the Justifier of him which believeth on Jesus." We extract an illustration of this subject from her manu script, equally beautiful and just. In defining the principle of analysis to be, taking to pieces a train of argument, and ex amining the soundness of its component parts, she gives the following Scriptural example, ' " Christ crucified, the wisdom of God, and the power of God." ' (1 Cor. i. 23, 24.) What an overwhelming multitude of reflections crowd upon the se rious mind at the bare mention of these words ! But in proving the doctrine to unbelievers, how many concurrent circum stances must be separately and distinctly unfolded.' It is alleged to be incompatible both with " the wisdom and power of God," that he should be constrained to glorify one of his attributes at the expense of another. We must therefore con sider each attribute apart from the rest, and show how each is glorified in the doctrine of the cross. Each part ofthe argu ment must be unfolded. Each link of the wondrous chain must be distinctly separated. We may offer them succes sively to the unbeliever, and challenge his strictest scrutiny to detect a single break. If only one link be imperfect, the whole chain must give way. All the hopes which hang upon- it must perish. But the more closely we examine it, the more complete will be our satisfaction. I have adduced this doctrine in illustration of my meaning, because I know of none which involves a greater number of considerations. In Maclaurin's sermon on the Glory of the. Cross, we have a most perfect specimen of this kind of analysis.' But we find these two things inseparably united in Scrip ture, holiness and salvation, as I saw it well expressed in some little work I was reading the other day : 'No salvation by works ; and yet no salvation without works.' " Christ hath God exalted to be a Prince and a Saviour, to give repent ance and remission of sins." If then we follow and obey Him' not as our Prince, He is as yet no Saviour to us. If He had not given us repentance, we must not suppose that he has given us remission. But, dear , let us bear in mind, that both are gifts. Repentance is as much a gift, and as little a merit, as pardon. I fear I have been very tedious ; but the subject has led me farther than I intended. We are sinners seeking a common Saviour ; and therefore I trust that nothing we can say of Him, can be wearisome.' The practical view of this statement is more fully develop ed in a subsequent letter to the same correspondent.; one of the last she ever wrote : September, 1830. 1 Far from thinking it presumption to write as you have done, my dear friend, I think we ought not to be ashamed of owning what God has done for our souls. We know that it is solely " by the grace of God," His free, unmerited favour, that we " are what we are ;" and that in our lips, and above all, in our lives, we are bound to show, that " the grace of God was not bestowed upon us in vain." 4 Dear 5 it has indeed pleased God to " call us to His kingdom and glory ;" let us (in His strength) " walk worthy of the high vocation wherewith we are called." " Let us ex hort one another daily, while it is called to-day ; let us pro voke one another to love^nd good works ;" and above all, let us pray for one another, and that fervently and unceasingly. We have need not only to pray, but to " watch unto prayer ,-" for it is only as long as we maintain this watchful spirit, that we can hope to enjoy any of the comforts of religion. Let me intreat you, not as one whose freedom from these sins gives her a right to exhort others ; but as one who has herself felt by mournful experience what " an evil and bitter thing it is" to depart from the God of our salvation ; as a backslider, whose backslidings have been healed by the inexpressible mercy of a long-suffering God ; let me most earnestly and af fectionately entreat you to guard.against the least declension from holiness; the least relaxation in that close and humble walking with God, which alone can keep you peaceful and happy. Works cannot justify us before God; but we are said to be justified by works in one part of scripture ; that is, they are the only evidence of our justification that we can offer to our fellow-creatures. " Ye shall know them by their fruits." And what are " the fruits of the Spirit?" Forgive me, if I record them here. The description is so lovely, that we can not remind one another of it too often : " The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance; against such there is.no law. And they that are Christ's, have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts." Let us examine ourselves by this, dearest . Let us see whether we bring forth this fruit, and whether we " bring forth much fruit, so shall we be His disciples." My course is perhaps almost ended. I have rea son to hope, that it will not be very long, ere I enter into that rest which Jesus has purchased for me with His blood. Oh ! that I had walked more to His glory, " who loved me, and gave Himself for me !" But your course (as a Christian) is but lately begun, and may, if the Lord please, be continued for many years. O then let it be indeed " the path of the just, which is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day." " Be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in faith, in purity. Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. Be clothed with humility ;". for as you are of an humble and " contrite spirit, and tremble at God's word," so will " the High and Lofty One who inhabiteth eternity," delight to dwell in your heart, to bless you with His refreshing and sanctify ing presence. And now, dearest , " may the very God of peace sanctify you wholly ; and I pray God, your whole body, and soul, and spirit, be preserved blameless untothe coming- of Jesus Christ." To Him may we with one heart and voice, give glory both now and for evermore ! Amen.' The following letter, however, carefully separates the fruit of faith from any ground of dependence. The application of the subject for Christian consolation will be interesting. Stoke,Feb. 21, 1827. N ' The chapter you mention, (Matt, xxv.) is particularly de- l lightful as holding out a lovely picture of the people of Christ. But let us mark, that it is not the action, but the motive, which meets with such high commendation. It is not said — Ye fed the hungry, gave drink to the thirsty, &c, but " I was hun gry, and ye gave me meat ; I was thirsty,, and ye gave me drink ; inasmuch as ye did it. to one of the least of these, ye did it unto me." And this appears to be the grand differ ence between Christians and worldly people. The Christian does every thing as unto Christ — in His name, in His strength, and to His glory. The worldling may, and often does, out of natural benevolence or ostentation, feed the hungry, or clothe the naked ; but he does it not unto Jesus, but to please him self, to gratify natural feeling, to appear well in the sight of others, to gain a stock of merit enough to buy heaven, or at least to help out what may be wanting in the merit of Christ. These are his best motives: Talk to him of doing good works, because you are saved, and not that you may be saved; and you are talking of a thing which never, entered his nar row heart, and which never will enter it, till it is enlarged by the grace of Christ. But let us beg of God, to give us this motive, and right actions will naturally follow. It will, as some one expresses it, ' like the spring of a watch, soon set all the wheels of our souls a-going.' I cannot leave this chapter without sharing with you the comfort I have derived from it in another point of view. Does Jesus say — ' I was hungry, and ye gave me meat?' &c. Is He then hungry, when we are hungry ? Does He faint, when we are thirsty, and languish, when we are- " sick and in prison." And think you, He will not much more sympathize with our spiritual necessities. When we hunger for the bread of life, and thirst for living water ; when we are sensible that our guilty souls stand " naked" before him ; when we feel ourselves " sick" of that worst disease, sin ; and in bondage to Satan, that most hard master, will not He then sympathize with us ? And his pity will not be a vain empty pity. He will not only sympathize, but relieve. He will feed, and nourish, and clothe, and heal, and deliver us. Nor will he be content with this. But the same pity he feels for us, he will teach us to feel for others ; so that we shall be such characters as He describes the " blessed of the Father" to be. Only let us trust Him for all this, and continually importune him for it ; for his promises are all addressed to those who trust, and ask, and seek, and knock.' 206 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. The freeness and fulness ofthe gospel are delightfully ap plied, to counteract the subtle influence of self-righteousness. . September 28, 1825. 'You tell me, my beloved friend, that you have lately suf fered worldly thoughts to engross too much of your time, and that you have found little comfort in prayer. Will you let me tell you what seems to me to be the cause of this ; at least as far as I can judge from my own experience ? ' You want a more simple and entire dependence on what Christ has done for you ; and will do in you : you want to be doing something yourself, when He has done all ; you would repent and pray earnestly ; and then you think Christ would forgive you. I do not know whether I am right with regard to your feelings ; but this at least has sometimes been my own case ; but in fact, my dear , it was for sinners who cannot repent, who cannot pray, that the Saviour came to die. Repentance is His gift — His free gift — as well as pardon ; and it is only when we are willing to come to Him — poor, empty, and miserable as we are — that He delights in " filling us with good things." I think I have not clearly explained myself; but I will try to give you an instance of what I mean. ' I used to be often doubting whether I was one of Christ's people or not. Now this one text satisfied all my doubts. — " All that the Father giveth me shall come to me ; and him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out." From this it seems there is but one question — 'Am I willing to come to Christ?' If so, then I am one of those whom "the Father hath given Him;" if so, then will he never, never cast me out ; and if so, then is God the Father, then is God the Son, engaged by an immutable promise, by unchangeable faithful ness, to bring me — a feeble worm of the earth — a sinner by nature and practice — yes, even to bring me safe home to glory. Am I willing? O my dear friend, I doubt not your heart is answering to mine; Yes, Lord, thou knowest that I am willing to come unto thee. "To whom should I go?" for there is "none in Heaven or in earth that I desire beside thee!" Again, with regard to the love of the world, — that great enemy to the Christian life — I used to think, how shall I overcome it? Now, I look simply to Jesus, who has said " Be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." He has overcome it for us, and will overcome it in us. For how can we love that world, which crucified our Lord and Saviour. — How can we give way to that " love of the world," which will deprive us of "the love of the Father?" Believe me, my dear , there is not a sin, however deeply rooted in the heart, from which we may not be delivered by simply looking to Jesus, and pleading with him his precious promises. To this end, " let the word of Christ dwell richly in us with all wisdom;" let us "hide his word in our hearts," and we shall find it will preserve us from " sinning against him." " The love of the world," accompanied as it always must be by lukewarmness in heavenly things, is indeed a great sin, and will, as far as we indulge in it, be as a cloud between us and the Father; for, " know ye not that the friendship of the world is enmity with God ?" But then we need not be discouraged ; for though we never can overcome it in our own strength, we have a promise that the " strength of the Lord Jesus shall be made perfect in our weakness.- " Of his fulness, we re ceive grace for grace." Dost thou want grace every moment to keep thee from falling ? — " My grace is sufficient for thee." Wouldest thou have wisdom ? " Christ is made unto us wisdom." " God giveth to all liberally, and upbraideth not." Wouldest thou have peace ? There is "peace and joy for thee in believing." Thy Saviour is " the Prince of Peace," Wouldest thou be preserved unto the end ? " The Lord is faithful, who shall stablish you, and keep you from evil." Finally, do we seek for direction in every step of our path through life ? Let us feed on those precious promises. Isa. xxx. 21, and xlviii. 17. Thus, my dear friend, we may go on, " with joy drawing water out of the wells of salvation ;" and we are then constrained to cry out with Jeremiah " Thy words were found, and I did eat them ; and thy word was unto me the joy and rejoicing of mine heart." I fear that I have al ready taken too much time upon this; but it has pleased God, in my afflictions, to make Christ, and the word of Christ, so unspeakably precious to me, that my heart will not rest, till I have called on my dear friend to live in consistency with her privileges as a child of God, and to " rejoice in the Lord al ways." ' And again, September 17, 1827. ' I have read your letter again and again with deepest in terest. I grieve to find, that you do not gain any sensible , comfort in the path of religion. You seem to think yourself ' going backward, rather than forward. But may not this be, because you see daily more of the vanity and wickedness of your own heart, and of the wretchedness pf your very best performances ? If so, are you not making the best possible progress? And while perhaps in reality you are less con formed to the world, less bent upon earthly things than you were a few months ago-; your more enlightened views of the spiritual nature of God's law, and the holy strictness of its requirements, may make you see more worldliness and sin in every thing you do, than you were capable of perceiving, when you first began the study of your own heart. For, be lieve me, the further we " come up from this wilderness, leaning upon our beloved," the more clearly we shall see, that not one step can be taken in our own strength ; and every time we begin to think we are a little stronger, and may- venture to stir a few steps alone, we shall be left to stumble , and fall, till he again upholds us with his hand. We want to be something in ourselves, to have something that we can call our own, something to look at, and to rest upon as such: when, alas ! we are nothing, have nothing ; but what comes to us from the fulness of Jesus. As long as we look into our own hearts for any source of comfort, we must inevitably be disappointed. If we look at "our righteousness, they are but as filthy rags," " the covering is narrower than that a man can wrap himself in it." But if we cast these filthy rags from us and look to the righteousness of Jesus, then we have a spotless robe ; an ample covering for our naked and defiled souls. I cannot help thinking, my beloved friend, that your sadness proceeds from thinking too much of your self, and too little of Jesus. You brood upon your own sin and misery, till you forget " The Lord your righteousness." You are deeply sensible of your own weakness, but dwell too little on the sweet assurance, that you " can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth you." You lament your own folly; but is not Jesus made wisdom to you? your own insufficiency ; but " in Jesus dwells" there not " all the ful ness ofthe Godhead bodily?" and may not you be "complete in him ?" Yet let us not cease to look at ourselves to make us humble ; but let us look to Jesus to make us happy; and when we look at him, let us remember, that he is our Jesus, our Saviour, and that will make us more happy. Let me give you a text, which I have sometimes found to be a sovereign remedy against all those fears, which a view of our own sin fulness is apt to excite : "The name of the Lord is a strong tower ; the righteous runneth into it, and is safe." Here is comfort ; here is safety. My dear friend, I have as much sin and weakness and folly, to lament as you can possibly have ; and if it does not make me as miserable as it does you, it is simply because, whenever I am frightened and tormented by the accusations of conscience, I "ran into this strong tower, and am safe." You too are safe, for have you not taken refuge there ? Why then will you not open youreyes, and behold how " the name of the Lord, as a strong tower," compasses you on every side, so that you are quite out ofthe reach of every enemy ; Jesus is our " hiding place and our shield." If we fear Satan, he will soon " bruise Satan under our feet." If we fear the world, Jesus " has overcome the world." If we fear the treachery of our own deceitful hearts let us put those hearts into the hands of Jesus ;. he shall.turn them " as the rivers of water, whithersoever he will. Nor is he only thus strong to defend us, but rich to supply all our need. If we want repentance, Jesus is exalted to give re pentance. If we want faith, " it is given us on the behalf of Christ to believe." If we want holiness, " Jesus is made of God sanctification unto us." If we want peace, " the peace of God shall keep our hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." In short, let our sins, and fears, and wants be ever so great, they need not drive us to despair, as long as Jesus lives and " is able to save to the uttermost." We arc com plete in him. Well then might David say, " They thatknow thy name will put their trust in thee ;" well might Solomon say: " Thy name is as ointment poured forth ;" and Isaiah: " His name shall be called Wonderful." But, my dear friend, we have an interest in this precious name; roe may draw near to the Father of mercies in this name, and he will deny us nothing. Then shall we give way to gloomy doubts and forebodings any more ? Alas ! I know how little all these reflections weigh with us, unless the Spirit of God bring them home with light and power to our hearts. Even while I am talking t*o you, my own heart is so little affected, that I am ashamed to go on ; but I speak rather as I would feel, than as I do feel.' MEMOIR OF MARY/ANE GRAHAM. 207 The above statements of Divine truth will be generally admitted to be of a Scriptual and decided character. Her exhibition of the humbling doctrines of the Gospel brings no occasion for despondency ; while it commends to the awaken ed sinner the simple glory of a free salvation. Nor does her view of gratuitous acceptance lose a particle of its evangelical clearness by the connected display of its fruitfulness. The man thoroughly humbled by the doctrines of the grace of God, will delight in holiness as the track of communion with his God, and the path-way to heaven ; while his sense of Continued defilement will preserve him from self-righteous ness, deepen his self-abasement, and establish his faith in the simplicity of Christ. Her connected apprehensions of what are called the higher doctrines of the gospel with the whole system, are well stated by the beloved brother, whose high previlege it was to attend her during her last illness. 'She had received,' he observes, ' the Gospel as a dispen sation of pure grace. She delighted to speak in a holy man ner of God's electing love. She " knew her election," and rejoiced in a sense of her high privilege. The reception of this blessed doctrine produced in her soul deep humility, gratitude, and love. She well knew, that it was God " who had made her to differ" from a " world that lieth in wicl^ed- ness ;" and she could say from her heart: " Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory, for thy mercy and for thy truth's -sake." She was so deeply con vinced from the word of God, from all around her, and from her own heart, of the deep depravity of human nature, of the utter helplessness of man to do, think, or say any thing that is spiritually good, that she saw no other method, whereby a sinful creature could be saved, but from the com bined offices of the Holy Trinity ; from the election of the Father, the redemption ofthe Son, and the sanctification of the Spirit.' A single extract from her publication will fully corroborate this testimony. The beauty of her language will justify the length of the quotation. ' Thus it is, that while the doctrine of predestination is death to those who weary themselves in presumptuous dis- putings and reasonings about it, there always have been and will be a happy few, who, humbly and sincerely feeding upon it, receiving all that the 'Scripture tells them concern ing it, and desiring to know no further, find it health and peace to their souls. It lays them very low at the feet of their Redeemer ; brings down the high swelling of their pride and self-esteem, pulls away from under them all those broken reeds upon which they had been used to lean, self- righteousness, self-will, self-dependence: and leaves to them no one prop on which to lean for support : whilst " coming up out of this wilderness," but the arm of, " their Beloved ;" that everlasting arm, which will surely conduct them to glory. When that arm becomes shortened that it cannot save, or weak that it cannot support ; when the arm of Jesus fails, and is weary ; then they will begin to look around for some other stay, but not till then. Or when they can discover in themselves one single good thing which Jesus did not put there: one reason why he should visit then! with such amazing love ; then they will conclude that his love took its rise from theirs ; not theirs from His. But they never will discover one such thing, so long as the Spirit of God illu mines their heart, and brings to light its immense depravity and worthlessness. Therefore as God's love could not have been excited by any thing in them, they believe it to be an eternal love : that they were called in time, because they were chosen from eternity ; and that the name of Jesus is now engraven as a seal upon their hearts, because their names were written on his heart before ever the world was. And when their thoughts stretched forward to the end of this pil grimage, and they rejoice in the view of the mansions pre pared for them in their Father's house, the crown of that re joicing is this : " We got not the land in possession by our own strength, neither did our own arm save us ; but thy right hand, and thine arm, and the light of thy countenance, because thou hadst a favour unto us." "Thus they rejoice in Christ Jesus, and have no confidence in the flesh;" for "God is the glory of their strength ; and in his favour their horn is exalted." ' I cannot pretend to meet the objections, or to refute the cavils commonly raised, when this doctrine of election is made the subject of discussion ; for I did not learn it in the way of carnal reasonings, but by simply taking the Scriptures as I found them, and as the Spirit of God enabled me to re ceive them. If St. Paul, after descanting on this subject, breaks off in an extacy of admiration, exclaiming — " How un searchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out !" we need not wonder, if our shallow understandings are inca pable of fathoming, our limited capacities of comprehending, our low minds of reaching them. We must be satisfied with believing that it is even so, because "so it seemed good in our Father's sight," whatever it may appear in ours. This reason, which appeared satisfactory to our Saviour, may sure ly satisfy us ; or if not, he has vouchsafed an assurance, which may well serve to repress present inquiry into thino-s too high for us — "What I do, thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter." 'That these things are so, I believe, because I find them amongst the "revealed things, which belong to us and our children forever." How or why they are so, I desire not too closely to inquire, lest I should intrude into the " secret things, which belong unto the Lord our God." O that he would give unto every one of us that humble and teachable Spirit, with which a little ignorant child is content to receive his father's lessons, without rudely commenting upon his father's ways, or rashly.intruding into his father's secrets ! This one thing we know ; and with this we may be satisfied ; that " the Judge of all the earth cannot Uut do right." But it were pre posterous to expect that he should always do that which is right in our eyes, so long as our notions of right and wrong are so utterly confused and perverted as they have been ever since the fall. He himself tells us that "the Lord seeth not as man seeth :" and that " that which is highly esteemed among men is abomination in the sight of God." It cannot be, so long as " his ways are equal, and ours unequal," that his righteous dealings should be in exact accordance with our unrighteous view's and sentiments. Instead then of wearying ourselves with impotent attempts to bring down his will and counsel to the level of our ideas, our far wiser way will be to submit our thoughts and ideas to his will, assured that it is holy, just, and good.' She then proceeds to defend the doctrine at some length, and with considerable ability, from the usual objections of charging God with injustice, and of encouraging licentiousness, arrogance, and despondency in man. The writer has indulged himself with this large extent of quotation, as the best means of introducing Miss Graham's work from the comparative obscurity of an anonymous publi cation, into that more general acceptance, which, in his own, and, he presumes he may add, in his reader's judgment, it well deserves. It would be too much to anticipate a univer sal concurrence in all her statements. Yet from the peculiar unction and richness of her theology, and its entire freedom from speculation and controversy, they cannot be read by the serious reader without spiritual profit. The more mysterious doctrines (as will be seen from the last quotation) are hand led in a holy, practical spirit, eminently calculated to soften prejudice, to prostrate the soul in humble thankfulness, and to enlarge the Christian's joy in God. It is indeed one of the many painful results from the harsh, crude, and abstract state ments too often given of these doctrines ; that they have con tributed unjustly to discredit the more sober Scriptural decla rations, which, when cast, like Miss Graham's, into the mould of our Seventeenth Article, are justly pronounced by our Church to be ' full of sweet, pleasant, and unspeakable com fort to godly persons.' On such deep and humbling subjects, the writer would not presume to set up his judgment as the rule of faith for the Church. Yet he has felt a caution necessary for his own mind, which he ventures therefore to suggest to his brethren. Let us take care, lest the irreconcilableness of these doctrines with our apprehensions of the Divine character, rather than a defect of their Scriptural evidence, should influence our re jection of them. Is there no danger, lest a predisposing bias in the search for this evidence, should obscure that single ness of eye, which is the only medium for the reception of heavenly light ? The admission of these doctrines, indeed, as the result of disputation or argument, could only issue in a fearful proportion of that " knowledge which puffeth up," combined with a total absence of the "love that edifieth." But the child-like reception of them as revealed in the Holy Scriptures, will be (as we have just hinted), eminently fruit ful in humiliation, love, privilege, and devotedness. After all, however, we must remember — " A man can receive no thing, except it be given him from lieaven." This sacred aphorism lays the only substantial basis of the true faith of the Gospel, while the light reflected upon the steady course of Christian consistency, though it will not clear up every diffi culty, will enlarge our discovery of the Divine goodness to 208 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. man, and assure to our minds the unchangeableness of God, as the ground of that " strong consolation," which " the heirs of promisV' are fully warranted to enjoy. 2; On subjects of Theological Discussion. The first question is closely connected with some of the subjects of the last section. It states her views of the consis tency of conditional promises with a free salvation. 'As to the promises' — Miss Graham observes — 'I do not say, that they are unconditional either; hut I do say, that the conditions on which they depend are such as guilty man is altogether incapable of performing. I do say that Jesus as our Surety, has performed all these for us, and by his Spirit will perform them all in us. Through his perfect atonement we escape the threatenings ; through his unspotted obedience we become " heirs of the promises" — heirs of eternal life. For if the blame of our sins has been imputed to Him, then has the merit of His righteousness been imputed to us. " If he has been made sin for us, then have we been made the righteousness of God in him." And because the promises are ours for his sake, therefore the conditions of them are worked in us by his free Spirit; " for it is not we who live the life of faith, but Christ that liveth in us." ' One of the sweetest promises, upon which the mind of every Christian rests with unspeakable delight, Tuns thus : "Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out." Here is a condition, " Him that cometh ;" and a promise — " I will not cast out." But who are those that come to Jesus ? " All that the Father giveth me shall come to me." " No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me, draw him." " No man can come to me, except it were given to him of my Father." How distinctly are we here told, that the same free mercy, which promises to receive us when we' come, must be put forth to make us come ; or we never should come ! The promise will surely be fulfilled to all who obey the condition ; but none can obey the condition, save those to whom it is given.' ' Every condition necessary to salvation' — she remarks — ' is fulfilled in us, not by any efforts of our own, but by our " receiving" continually " grace for grace out of the fulness of Jesus." ' In confirmation of her argument, she adduces the Christian graces (repentance, faith, love,) as required of us, but yet wrought in us. Thus she concludes the discus sion — ' The great question then about the promises seems to be, not so much whether they are conditional, as whether God looks to Christ, or to us, for the performance of those condi tions. If to Christ, the burden is laid upon " one that is mighty .-" if to us, then we are undone ; ' for the condition of man after the fall is such, that he cannot turn and prepare himself, by his own natural strength and good works, to faith and calling upon God : wherefore we have no power to do good works pleasant and acceptable to God, without the grace of God by Christ preventing us, that we may have a good will, and working with us, wlien we have that good will.' This statement is confessedly strong and uncompromising ; yet it is in the writer's apprehension, neither unguarded, un- scriptural, or discouraging. It assumes with our church the Scriptural point, not of the weakness, but of the utter helpless ness of man. It connects the freeness of the Gospel with the sovereign purpose and Almighty grace of God. Thus man and God are each in his proper place ; man in the dust ; God on the throne. The humble and intelligent believer will ac knowledge of every act of faith and obedience to the end of his course — " Thou also hast wrought all our works in us." Nor will he hesitate to trace all these works to the "good plea sure" of his God as the first cause. The opposite statement may be easily proved to be most discouraging. The free invitations ofthe Gospel are uncon nected with an entire dependence upon Divine grace to ena ble the sinner to accept them. Conscious inability is there fore left without any power to act upon it. The sinner is either blinded in self-delusion, or hardened in despondency. On the other hand his helplessness is taught to depend upon the Sovereign pleasure of a God of love ; and he " works out his salvation with fear and trembling," indeed, but with con fident hope of perseverance. The unscriptural use of the term condition with many theo logians— as if man could of himself perform the work of his salvation — has brought it into disrepute. Yet in Miss Gra ham's view conditional promises ultimately resolve them selves into absolute unconditional love. The duties of Chris tian obedience — the Divinely appointed means of enjoying the promises — do not depend upon any thing to be fulfilled by us. fhey constitute a part ofthe engagements ofthe Evangelical covenant, by which the Lord fulfils the demands of his law by the Almighty power of his grace. Miss Graham with many excellent men would altogether abolish the use of the term, at least as applied to us. But it has been allowed by many of our most orthodox Divines, whose statements cannot justly be accused of infringing upon the freeness of the Gos pel. It would be difficult to substitute any other theological term, that would express the sense of many important decla rations of Scripture with equal precision and appropriateness. Let it be understood to imply — not what is meritorious, but what is necessary in the economy of the Gospel — not an effi cient cause, but an indispensable requisite. Is it not then needless scrupulosity to exchange a convenient term of expli cation for feeble circumlocution ? And may there not be some danger, lest in our anxiety to preserve the freeness of Scrip tural statement, we unconsciously become fettered in the bonds of human systems ? Her letter upon the nature and degree of explicit faith neces sary for acceptance with God is highly interesting. 'Ihe question you propose about prayer, does not appear to me to admit of a doubt. Ought there not to be in every prayer a reference to the intercession of Christ ? Will the earnestness and sincerity of a prayer avail without it ? Doubt less, my dear friend, there fought to be this reference : nor cafe a believer in Jesus imagine a prayer without it. But when an unbeliever 'first begins to long after the knowledge of God, the intercession Of Christ may be a part of that knowledge, respecting which he is in utter darkness. Shall the earnest and sincere petition which he offers under such circumstances be disregarded ? Is not the intercession of Christ going on for him as surely as if he knew of it? And is not this poor ignorant prayer the first fruits of this intercession ? And will not the Father accept it for the sake of his beloved Son, though the sinner as yet knows not how to offer it in his name ? Certain I am, that the person who thus begins to seek after the Lord with his whole heart, will ere long have Jesus re vealed in his soul ; and then he will seek in the name of Jesus. The most signal answer I ever received to prayer, was at a time when I was so bewildered in the labyrinth of infidelity, that I actually should have feared to have been guilty of blas phemy, had 1 prayed in the name of Jesus. In sincerity and earnestness I prayed to be taught, whether Jesus Christ was an impostor or not ; and for the sake of that precious Saviour, whom I thus insultingly doubted, my prayer was answered. But our experience is of little value, unless it agrees with Scripture. I think the Bible is very clear upon this head, and therefore I venture to speak so confidently. I will men tion two or three texts. "He that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him." Is not this a description ofthe degree of faith and knowledge, which is necessary before a person can come and pray to God in an acceptable manner ? And is not this the sum of it, that he must believe that there is a God, and that, if he diligently seeks this God, he shall be rewarded by finding the object of his search? There is not a word about, ' He that cometh to God must believe and" pray through the intercession of Christ ;' though no doubt the per son who believes so far as is mentioned in the text, will soon believe God in Christ, as he is revealed in the Gospel. So then, if a Pagan or Mahomedan in the darkest corner of the earth, or an infidel in this country, were to begin to seek God diligently, from the mere " belief that he is, and that he is a- rewarder of them that diligently seek him," upon the warrant. of this text I should have no doubt of his acceptance.* Again, " If any man will (or wishes to) do the will of God, be shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself." Here is the case supposed of a man, who, so far from praying in the name of Jesus, is not yet convinced, * This text may, doubtless, be accommodated for intelligent and warranted encouragement in the case here presented to us. Yet it may be questioned whether Miss Graham's exposition includes the whole substance of the Apostle's mind. The faith of Cain in bring ing bis offering probably admitted the naked belief ofthe existence of God, and of his bounty to those that inquired after him. The Apostle's definition, however, stands in immediate connexion with the faith of Abel and Enoch, (ver. 4, 5.) which implied access to God, and communion with him through an acceptable 'medium. Indeed, the true faith in God's existence seems necessarily to sup pose some relation to him. See Gen. xvii. 1. Exod. iii. 14. The very expectation of reward to sinners deserving condemnation, must, in a righteous government, be grounded upon some apprehension, however obscure, of a way of lavourable acceptance. The desire and act of seeking also supposes some rule to direct our path* and warrant our hope ; a rule founded upon some new relation between God and his creatures, by which merited judgment is averted, and "mercy rejoiceth against judgment." MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 209 whether his doctrines are Divine, or whether he is a mere pretender, "speaking of himself." What then is the prepara tion required ? He wishes to do the will of God. He would gladly worship God'aright, and submit to his will in all things. Yet he cannot pray at first with any reference to the intercession of Jesus. For he would think it sinful to do so, as long as he knows not " whether the doctrine be of God, or whether Jesus Christ spake of himself." Yet this man — we have the word of Jesus for it — "shall know'of the dostrine." Consider also the free and generous promise of Christ, that " our heavenly Father will give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him." Suppose yourself to have been in the state of mind of the text just mentioned, and to have heard this gra- _ cious promise. Would you have thought of any intercession, of any thing beyond asking ? And you would probably have asked ; " 0 my heavenly Father, give me thy Spirit toteach me wbether this man is sent by tbee, or Whether he speaks of himself." Suppose for a moment (God forbid that any one should suppose it in reality!) that, after having offered this prayer- sincerely, earnestly, p'ers^veringly, you were at last suffered to perish for lack of knowledge ; that the Holy Spirit for which you asked was not given, because you asked it not (and how could you?) in the name of Jesus, the pro mise would seem to carry with it a want of sincerity, as hav ing a condition attached to it, which was concealed from you, and which the very nature of. your petition incapacitated you from performing, until further knowledge was given. 1 be lieve, that when Christ said, "Ask, and if shall be given you," he meant what -he said, in the literal sense of the word It is remarkable, that asking in (he name of Christ, was a doctrine not revealed to the disciples, till shortly before his death, though they must often have prayed before, and that with acceptance. The Loid's prayer also contains no express reference to this doctrine, though doubtless every Christian in his heart, offers it in the one name, through which he looks for acceptance. Let us take the text above mentioned, to an assembly of Indians. Let us say to them, 'You know not what to think of our doctrine concerning Jesus. You would take him for your Lord and your God, if you were sure that all we say about him is true. We will tell you how to find this out. There is a promise in the book, out of which we preach to you, that God"" will give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him." The Holy Spirit is given to teach you about Jesus. If you will ask for this teaching, you shall have it ; and then you shall know what to think of our doctrine.' They ask. In the name of Jesus they cannot ask. ' For the very point in question, the very thing which they ask God to teach them is, whether the name of Jesus is of any avail or not. They are impelled to ask by a "belief that there is a God, iand that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him." Will the promise be made good .to them or not? Or will this failing to pray in a manner in which they do not believe (that is, to act contrary to the reason which God himself has lighted up within them) annul the engagement by which God has bound himself, that all that ask should have ? Oh ! no. This is prayer ; aud it is praying with precisely that degree of " faith, without which it is impossible to please God." " To every one that hath, thus much shall be given, and he shall have abundance;" he shall be rich in faith. And this is as true to my mind, as clear as any of the promises of God •can be. You say, ' Must faith be acting at the time ?' I think the degree of faith mentioned in Heb. xi. 6, must. Yet even this, we know, may be a trembling faith, such as, " If thou canst do any thing, Lord, I believe : help thou mine unbelief." But, " the day of small things," the first prayers of a hitherto unbelieving sinner have something in them unspeakably in teresting. And it is so delightful to feel, -that the very least ofthe "small things" comes from God, and implies pardon and heaven, and all those great things which " eye hath not" seen, nor ear heard," that we cannot dwell upon them with out transport. This is that " faith which is as a grain of mustard seed." Wrapped within its minute, dry, and un sightly husk is the embryo of the future tree, which shall expand and " flourish in the courts of our God." Oh ! what a God of wonders ! As we cannot look into the hearts of others, it is hard to know when the -prayer is earnest and sincere. But if we could discern this, we might look at such a prayer with the same confident assurance that showers of blessings would follow it, as Elijah knew that there would be " abund ance of rain," though there was nothing to be seen but a little eloud like a man'shand.' This letter involves a question of much interest and no small difficulty: Miss Graham's sympathy with the case supposed, enabled her to fix a conscious grasp upon the sub Vol. IT.— 3 B ject, and to speak directly to the point with much force and clearness. The instance of the penitent Ninevites ignorant ofthe medium of acceptance might have been added to her Scripture illustrations of the argument. And we can scarce ly doubt that the cry to a Supreme Being- — ' Ens entium, mis erere mei'- — " seeking the Lord, if haply they might feel after him, and find .him"— may have proved the first dawn of light and love to some awakened conscience in a benighted world. No other way to God than by Christ is here supposed, though an unconscious approach through him is admitted. For ourselves, however, who have been made acquainted with his precipus name, no obligation is more important, no privi lege more delightful, than the constant dependence upon it in . every step of access to God. It covers all guilt, defilement, ignorance, and infirmities. It assures our confidence in the presence ofa God of inflexible justice and unspotted holiness. Our persons and services, in themselves most unsuited to his awful majesty, are presented through this medium clothed with divine beauty, and commended in his sight as " a sweet- smelling savour/' A clear knowledge of the person of Christ is therefore necessary as the basis of Christian confidence. The exercise of this confidence will be — not to apprehend him separately either as God or man, but to make his entire person the object of our trust. This intelligent and spiritual worship is as superior to mere external service, as the blood ofthe Son of God, by which we aTe brought into the capacity for it, is to the vile and corruptible things of earth. The question under consideration however requires a wise mixture of decision and forbearance to determine its precise limits. While insisting upon the importance of a clear ap prehension of Divine Truth, we would present the full Scrip tural encouragement to souls emerging out of darkness with simple desire to know the light; seeking tbe truth, yet knowing not where to find it. Let them wait in the twilight for the dawning day, humbly, prayerfully, earnestly. Sin cerity in the diligent and persevering habit of faith will not be left in darkness. On the other hand it must be remem bered, that the influence of the Hojy Spirit, needful for every act of faith and prayer, stands in ordinary conjunction with revealed truth. Let us be aware therefore, lest by broad statements we lose sight of the great fundamentals of the Gospel, and forget "that there is none other name than Christ under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved," and that "life eternal" consists in the knowledge of him. Let us also carefully connect the general promises ofthe early dispensation of the Gospel, with the more full and clear light subsequently vouchsafed. The direction to which Miss Gra ham refers — " Ask, seek, and knock" — must ever be linked with the name of Christ. ' His name is our only warrant to ' ask." Himself is the only way to " seek :" the only door at which we can " knock" with any well-grounded hope of acceptance. In the neglect of this theology, we should at tempt to open a way to heaven without " entering in by tbe door." We sh»uld admit the unscriptural supposition of pleasing God "'without faith." We should endeavouir to maintain our complete acceptance with God without the con tinued application of "the blood of sprinkling." 'Take heed' — said the excellent Dr. Owen— 'lest, while we en deavour to invent new ways to heaven for others, by so' do ing, we lose the true way ourselves.' Miss Graham's discussion ofthe subject, in connexion with the experience of the intelligent Christian, is most satisfac tory and edifying. ' I think I now quite understand you about prayer. My reason for speaking of the beginnings only of prayer was, that I thought no confirmed Christian could possibly pray with out a reference to tbe-mediation of Christ Jesus. Eut your observation, that we may pray without immediately referring to it, or even thinking directly of it, is very just, as in the case you mention of ejaculatory prayer. But I would ask you, my dearest friend, is it not an understood matter between us and our heavenly Father, that we are to have all things in the name of Jesus ? Would we, if we -could, receive even the least of our blessings through any other medium ? Is it not the very joy of our hearts to have every thing, and do every thing through Christ ; to believe that the Father loves us for his sake ; accepts us in him; hears our prayers, not because they are ours, but because he offers them for us ? And is this fixed, settled, deep-rooted feeling less, when in ejacula tory prayer there is no immediate reference to his mediation, than in our larger devotions, when we stop to make out our title more fully, and to dwell upon it more largely ? It is delightful and profitable to do this ; but yet I think the in tention of our hearts is the same in both cases. If you were 210 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. asked after one of these short prayers — ' How do you expect or wish it to be heard ?' would you not reply — ' In the one name of my Beloved ?' And would not the heaven of hea vens seem less desirable of attainment, if by any possibility we could possess it in our own name, instead ofthe security of Jesus having entered before us and for us ? I hope I am not wrong, and I am sure I would not object to repeating as often as possible to ourselves and to others our entire reliance upon his name. But I think, that when his mediation has become the very life and food of our souls, weneed not torment ourselves with the fear, that such or such a prayer will not be answered, because I did not think of making formal mention ofthe gTound on which I asked. Let me rather say — ' God knows that I would not, if I might, have it answered in any other way. He knows what I mean and constantly desire ; and, if through infirmity I may have expressed myself amiss or deficiently, infinite love will not misunderstand me.' If you think I have taken a wrong view, tell me, my dear friend. But I am confirmed in it by this circumstance. When I am in a truly spiritual state, the mediation of Christ is (as it were) so worked up into my being, that I am often, (except in stated prayers ) not conscious of a direct reference to it at one time more than at another. Yet I think my mind never loses the idea. It is perpetually resting upon this sure an chor of hope. But when I am in a cold and careless state, (as at the present time) I lean upon it with an unstable faith. I am therefore much more often conscious of a direct reference to it. The shortest of my prayers have a sort of formality about them, from the cold repeated reference of the name of my Saviour, ido not know whether this is your case. I had rather have the thing so constantly in my heart, that I scarcely stop explicitly to allude to it, than lose the consciousness of it so often, (as I now do) that I am obliged to remind myself of it, in order to plead it with God. But I think that in all sincere ejaculations there is an inward, though perhaps almost un conscious, feeling of repose and delight in his name, through which alone we desire to have acceptance with the Father. I fear I have not expressed my meaning intelligibly. I have sent, as you desired, my thoughts without reserve ; though I know too little of the spirit and power of prayer to qualify me to give my sentiments on so important a subject:' The following letter on Prayer io the Holy Spirit, evinces much thought and spirituality. ' I feel very incompetent to give you any opinion on the point you mention about the Holy Spirit. Yet I have no doubt whatever in my own mind, that it is both right and de sirable to pray to him separately and distinctly. I should be very much afraid, that the contrary opinion would gradually tend to undermine our faith in the Personality of the Holy Spirit ; unless indeed it is meant by this, that we are to pray to the Tri-une God only, and not either to the Father, the Spn, or the Spirit, considered as separate Persons. I have no doubt, as you say, that when we pray to the Father, we do worship this Trinity in Unity ; and perhaps this is the most proper way of addressing our usual petitions. But it appears to me, that separate addresses are permitted, if not sanctioned in Scripture. And what I would earnestly con tend for, (but that I fear I may be meddling " with things too high for me,"1 is this — If the Father and the Son may be separately addressed ; then, not to allow of a separate address to the Spirit, is to rob him in some measure of his equal glory, and to do away with his Personality. I do not at this moment recollect any direct instances of prayer to the Holy Ghost in the Bible, though I think that there are many, in which he would appear to be the person addressed! But if Prayer comprehend adoration and thanksgiving, we often ad dress him separately in the Liturgy, when we say — ' Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost,' — a form of words, in which we imitate the Seraphim before the Throne, who cry — "Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of Hosts : the whole earth is full of his glory." The same sep arate act of worship is surely implied, when the four beasts, who rest not day and night, adore the Almighty, saying — " Holy, holy, holy; Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come." Jesus commanded to "baptize in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and ofthe Holy Ghost." Here again a separate act of worsbip seems to be implied. By baptizing in the name of each Person of the Holy Trinity, distinctly and separately repeated, I cannot but understand, that we separately invoke each of them to perform their cove nanted part in the redemption ofthe baptized person. But I think, that it may at once decide the question, that we are said to be "the temple of the Holy Ghost;" and why he should come and dwell in this temple, except to receive our acts of worship, I do not see. Besides, all his offices invite us to pray to him. He is our Comforter; and this warrants us to ask him for comfort. It is his work to " shed abroad the love of God in our hearts ;" to cause us to " abound in hope;" and to "take of Christ's and show to us." But surely " for all these things he will be inquired of by us, to do them for us." I had almost forgotten to mention that beautiful prayer, Numb, vi. 24 — 26, which I have always considered as a'separate invocation of the Persons of the Sa cred Trinity. May "the fellowship ofthe Holy Ghost" be with us ; and may he fulfil his sacred Office in teaching us what to pray for, and how to pray." This question has exercised the -minds of many sincere Christians. Perhaps an endeavour to present it in its full Scriptural light will not be unacceptable. The exclusive claim of the only true God to the worship of his creatures is one of the first principle's of right reason and of religion. Upon this eternal and unchangeable ground our Lord denied to Satan the worship which he demanded of him. We may remark therefore upon the general subject, that the proofs of the Per sonality and Deity of the Holy Spirit are so decisive (though obviously this is not the place for their production,) that only scrupulosity of mind and judgment could refrain the honour of Divine worship on account of the withholding of a more explicit revelation. The Divine nature — not the distinct Per sonality — is the proper and necessary ground of worship. Each person therefore in. the Sacred Trinity -possesses equal and unalienable claims — not as a person but as God — to the trust, love, subjection, invocation, and every form and act of worship from the creatures of God. The Holy Spirit, there fore, ' with the Father and the Son, together is worshipped and glorified.' As to the detail of the question, the worship of heaven as Miss Graham observes, appears to be given to him. At least he is never meptioned among the universal chorus of wor shippers ; which {considering his Personality) is some nega tive testimony on this point. He is represented as " pro ceeding out of the throne," being not only " before," but " in the midst of the throne ;" his " seven eyes" marking his omniscience : his sevenfold influence, his Divine perfections. The thrice-repeated invocation of the heavenly host, while it proves his distinct Personality in the undivided Trinity, evi dently includes his worship. " The Lord sitting upon his throne," and worshipped with most solemn and impressive adoration, sent by his own authority, and spake by his own mouth, that commission to the Prophet, which an apostle de clares to have been delivered to him by the Holy Ghost. The worship of the earth commences at the visible entrance into the church of God. The very first act of Christian wor ship in the administration of baptism is not only, as Miss Graham observes, a separate invocation of the Holy Spirit, but also a dedication of the baptized person to his service. For as the administration of thi's seal of the covenant in the name ofthe Holy Ghost is a direct acknowledgment of this Divine Person as conjointly with the Father and the Son, our covenant God ; so it necessarily implies also the reciprocal obligations of faith, obedience, and worship. " The commu nion" or " fellowship of the Spirit" (one of the most enli vening privileges of the Gospel) must also., like the " fellow ship with the Father and the Son," be maintained by prayer in the large acceptation of the term. For how else, but i*& worship, can a creature hold communion with his God. This worship St. John scrupled not to give to the Holy Spirit in supplicating from him, conjointly with the Father and the Son, a large supply of spiritual blessings upon the Church of God. In Christian experience, the offices of- the Holy Spirit — as Miss Graham remarks — when connected with his Divine Person ality, naturally imply supplication. In reference to one of these offices. Scripture parallelism, together with the marked distinction of the Sacred Persons, exhibits St. Paul probably on more than one occasion invoking the Holy Spirit as the " God that heareth prayer." Nor indeed can we conceive.of his presence in us as his temple, without all the devotional exercises of reverence and praise for his condescending love. ¦ The part which the Holy Spirit maintains in the administra tion of the church, shows that his claim to immediate worship was fully acknowledged. It was after a day of public and special supplication, that he directed by his own authority the consecration of ministers to his immediate service. To whom then, may we ask, had the prayers of the church been spe cially addressed, but to Himself, who was manifestly the ob ject, as well as the author of their consecration ? And to whom did the worship resulting from this consecration be- MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 211 long, but to Him, who was the direct source and fountain of it ? We need again only advert to his acknowledged power in the ordination of the ministers of the church, and to the exercise of his sovereignty in the appointment and restraint of their several spheres of labour, and in the distribution of His gifts, as, a clear and scriptural warrant for the direct mode of address to Him employed in the Consecration services of our church. The Christian investigator of the early Ecclesiastical. Rec ords will observe with delight this Divine worship fully per vading the rituals of the Primitive churches.* Our own church, closely following her sacred exemplar, has not con fined this adoration of the Holy Spirit to her more exclusive Ministerial services.. How often has the introduction of it into her Litany elevated the faith, and refreshed the spirits of her sincere worshippers ! The frequent repetition of the dox- ology in her Liturgical exercises, is in the true spirit of the heavenly worship ; and it may be a matter of just surprise, that any one of those who have constantly and joyfully united in this public ascription of praise to the blessed Spirit, should be exercised with scruples as to the Scriptural ground ofthe pri vate duty and privilege of prayer to the same Divine person. Miss Graham considered, and with some justice, that many Christians are defective in rendering due and equal honour to the Holy Spirit. Her own views of his personality were re markably clear-. ' I feel' — said she on one occasion — ' " the love of the Spirit," as distinct from the manifestation of the love of Christ to my soul. Is this wrong?' Then she added — 'I think I can account for the feeling ; as I have made it a mat ter of special prayer, that I might have clearer wews of the Holy Spirit.' She was accustomed (as we have already seen) to address Him in direct and probably frequent supplication. The Spiritual life indeed of the Christian is much employed in his reverential service. As " the sin against the Holy Ghost" (whatever that might be) included a wilful rejection of his faith, honour, and worship ; so does every sin of " grieving" our Divine Comforter, and " resisting" his holy influence partake, according to its measure, of the same char- , acter. The antecedent obligation is therefore, sufficiently ob vious. The Being against whom sin is committed, must be the worthy object of religious honour and service. All the exercises therefore of contrition and self-abasement on account of sin, are our humiliating but ready acknowledgments of the plaim ofthe Holy Spirit to our dutiful obedience and worship. A full, distinct, and frequent confession, however, of our equal dependence upon his power and love is a primary obli gation, and will result in a large supply of his heavenly grace, strength, and consolation. Should some ofthe minor particles of illustration be thought to possess . little or no positive weight, they may yet derive force and clearness from their connexion with more decisive grounds of evidence. From the main points, however, and from the whole view of the question, sufficient warrant may be deduced to satisfy perplexed and unsettled inquirers, and to quicken even the most intelligent servant of God to amore habitual acknowledgment of his duty, and enjoyment of his privilege in communion with the Holy Ghost. If a more ex plicit testimony still be .demanded, we must recur to first principles, never more valuable than on these subjects. " It is written." What is written is sufficient. What is with held is best withheld. Man would be " wise above what is written." Had more been revealed, more would still have been desired ; and the appetite for what is beyond human re search would have been more excited, not only without prac tical benefit, but to the great detriment of Scriptural knowledge .Enough is given both in substance and clearness to direct and encourage our supplications to the Divine Spirit for a full sup ply of his heavenly influence. But in this and every other approach to the doctrine of the Trinity, many questions must arise, and must remain unanswered. All that belongs to the inner sanctuary of the essence of the ever-blessed Tri-une God, is equally above conception and expression. The Scrip tures inform us of his nature, but they do not reason about it. A divinely-guarded and sacred veil covers him from our view. And much thought upon this deep subject of Deity— irrespective of, and beyond, the sacred boundaries — either in volves us in the labyrinth of metaphysics, or sinks us into the gross, lew, and familiar views of an opposite school. Our inquiries into this subject must be conducted with the * Hurrioh's valuable sermons, on the Divinity of the Holy Spirit, and Drs. Berriman's and Waterland's Sermons on the Trinitarian Controversy, give a condensed and satisfactory body of evrdence on this subject. • deepest caution and the most profound humility. All that belongs to God's own revelation of himself, must'be received with unfeigned submission and contentment. To seek for access through Christ by the Spirit unto the Father," is the rubric for Christian worship : and in a strict attention to this Scriptural directory, every act, thought, and desire of prayer will become a means of communion with each of the Sacred Persons in the Divine . essence, "without difference or in equality." At the same lime, as our minds are* drawn to a separate contemplation of them (especially asw^eeking those blessings which belong to their respective offices in the econo my of grace)' an immediate address to either of them is fully- warranted; always however remembering that, whichever person be the object of worship, the mediation of Christ is the only way of access, the only plea for acceptance. Adverting now to topics of more general interest, we trans cribe from Miss Graham's' manuscript, a few remarks upon the subject of Infidelity as a fearful characteristic of the present day. ' They will be found to possess the usual marks of her sound, reflecting, Christian mind. Speaking of the import ance of mathematical study as furnishing armour and discip line suitable to the present crisis, she remarks — 'Intelligent Christians are especially called upon to set themselves in strong array against the gathering forces of in fidelity. This last enemy of Christianity is filling up his ranks from all classes of the community. The active dili gence of his malignity naturally reminds us of the prediction — "The devil is come down to you, having great wrath, be cause he knoweth that he hath but a short time." ' The deceitful and superficial character of the arguments employed by the great adversary is well exposed.. 'They generally consist,' she observes, ' of a confused mass of ob jections, apparently formidable from their very indistinctness. Like objects seen through a fog, the superficial observer sup poses them to be larger than they really are. But let us dis entangle the artful confusion of words and ideas." Let us set apart each argument for separate and minute scrutiny. Let us analyze the boasted reasonings of the infidel philosophy. We shall find that they may be classed under two heads — Assertions which are true, but no way to the purpose ; and assertions which are to the purpose, but they are not true. These form' the materials of every plausible argument against Chlfctianity. By this mixture of untrue and irrelevant mat ter with that which is true and pertinent, the understandings ofthe self-conceited and unwary are subverted. Strictly speak ing, no assertion can be to the purpose which is not true. But it may be of such apparently pertinent application, as to lead- us to examine less closely into its truth. On the other hand, if it be undeniably true, we sometimes forget to inquire (especially when many arguments of this kind are artfully in terwoven together) whether it has any connexion with the subject in hand.' In reference to the efforts necessary to resist this mighty spirit,. she justly inculcates the importance of a well-furnished and well-disciplined mind, enabling us to meet the infidel upon his 'own ground of reason, and to fight him with his own sword. ' Whenever,' she observes, ' " the enemy thus comes in like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord will lift up a standard against him." He, who in his purpose of inscrutable wis dom suffers these " seoffers to come in the last age, " will not fail to raise up men in his Church well-fitted to resist them. These champions of the cross must be men " strong in the faith," and " filled with the Holy Ghost." But, judgingfrom the instruments which the Lord has employed in times past for his Church, we are led to expect that they will be learned in all the wisdom of their enemies — in earthly as well as heavenly wisdom. To oppose the subtleties of Arians^-an acute and powerful reasoner was raised up in the person of Athanasius. A wise and learned Augustine was provided to quell the dreadful heresy of Pelagius. Luther,, Calvin, Me lancthon, and almost all the eminent Reformers, were men of profound erudition, and strong powers of argumentation. " God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise ;" and he could, now,, and perhaps may, see fit to correct the progress of infidelity by means of " unlearned men." Yet when we look back upon the-instruments which he has heretofore raised up, and consider the many advanta ges of human learning which he has placed within our reach, it seems evidently our duty to use those means to the utmost ; at least until the. Lord shall give us some clear indication of a more excellent and acceptable way. " Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings/our God ordaineth strength." Let us then seek to obtain the spirit and temper of a little child. But 212 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. let us never foTget, that, while " in malice we are children," it behoves us " in understanding to be men." ' She thus happily brings a Scriptural illustration to bear upon her subject. ' David with a sling and a stone fought Goliath and con quered. This time he wanted no other weapon, for God had appointed him no other. But when on a future occasion he was sore pressed by his enemies, he went into the temple of the Lord, Snd demanded the swflrd of that same Goliath. " There is none," said he, " like.that ; give it me." Why should he chaose a weapon, which he had seen fall powerless -from the hand of the uncircumcised Philistine ? Because he knew that in the grasp of the circumcised David it would do goodly service. The hand, not the weapon, had been in fault. Thus may we, if called by the leadings of Providence, avail ourselves of human means, and meet our adversaries hand to hand, with their own weapons. Only let us use David's cau tion. Let us not take the sword of the Philistine, till it has been consecrated in the temple of the Lord.' The present face of the times in the judgment of all intel ligent observers seems strongly to mark an impending crisis, as if the " Israel" of God " and the Philistines, were putting the battle in array, army against army." We know on which side the victory is secured. Yet the conflict will doubtless be severe.- Let the servants of God gird themselves for." the good fight of faith," with the whole armour of God. This is no time for slumber or inaction. A religion taken upon trust, " received by tradition from our fathers," provides no re source in the hour of trial. A " faith standing not upon the wisdom of man, but upon the power of God" — will be a de fence, a stay, a ground of unfailing hope and consolation. But on this subject we will give Miss Graham's own words in a letter to her cousin without date. It will be found to be a refreshing specimen of her mode- of treating subjects which have lately been found so fruitful in speculation, in a practi cal and edifying application. April, 1827. * Amongst the reflections which I have made upon the Millennium, there are two which occupy my mind very much. I thought of them the whole of one day ; one was founded upon this text — " And some of them of understanding shall fall, to try them, and to purge, and to make themwhitejleven to the time of the end, because it is yet a time appointed." Does not one shudderwith horror in anticipating the fulfil ment of this prophecy ? Who can need purifying more than we do ? -Who can say that these words are not addressed to us ? How dreadful to fall in that time when the Saviour is about to appear ! to fall in the very moment when our song of triumph should begin ! to fall in the very midst of enemies, .of persecutions, of infidelities, in that time when " the devil will have great wrath, because he knoweth that he will have but a short time" to trouble the faithful. But I think that perhaps God has inspired me with this fear, that 1 may pray against so fatal an event ; and this is my reason for communi cating it to you. When I was almost overwhelmed with this reflection, these sweet words came to my heart, and made me think of you, — " Two are better. than one." Since in this in stance the Scriptures and our hearts agree, I beseech you not to separate yourself from me. Let us love each other always, and pray for each other, that we may not fall. But if unhap pily one of us should fall, may the other be ready to raise her up again. If I should fall either into the love of the world, or into infidelity, or into any other sin, do not give me up. Do not think I am a hypocrite. Think that it is to " purify and to try me ;" and pray, that if you fall, I may act in the same way towajds you. But in the midst of the thoughts which these sad ideas gave me, these words came for my en couragement, — " They that are with the Lamb are called, and chosen, and faithful." You know how precious these words have been tq me. But I now saw them in a new point of view. They appeared to me a plain promise introduced ex actly at that time to console the saints under their difficulties, by assuring them that they will be a little troop, " called, chosen, and faithful," against whom no enemies will be able to prevail : that they will have a degree of faith proportioned to their sufferings .and necessities. In short, in describing the character of tfiis elect band, I wish to believe, that it des cribes what we shall be found, if we arrive at tha't period. If already we are "called and chosen," shall we;not then be " faithful ?" Let us plead this promise. It speaks to me like a voice from heaven. It answers every fear, every uncer tainty. Would God choose and call soldiers who would be unfaithful to him ? Will not our Captain teach us to follow him whenever he will have us to go ? When I say to my self, 'Poor and feeble creature, what will you do in that time of distress and temptation ? Faith,»which cannot resist a sin gle vain thought, how will you resist the united efforts ofthe world , the devil, and a wicked heart ?' Then I .answer, ' Yes ; but has not God said, that the saints in that day shall be " faithful and chosen" by Himself, who cannot choose amiss ? Rest upon his word; if be sees that you are not fit to fight in the battle of that great day, He will not call you to it ; and if he call you to it, it is his part to give-you the fidelity which will be so necessary.' Miss Graham's remarks on the subject of Prophecy will be interesting, and furnish occasion for some observations suited to the present time. Having insisted upon the importance of mathematical study, in reference to the progress of infidelity, she applies the same train of reasoning to the excitement to the study of Prophecy, which she justly remarks to be one of the prominent characteristics of our day. ' There is yet another subject,' she observes, which, though at present but partially considered, bids fair, ere long, to en gross the attention of the Christian world. I allude to the study of prophecy. "Seek ye out ofthe book of the Lord, and read," is the Divine command ; " no one of these shaU fail, none shall want her mate." I am particularly led to ad vert to it in this place, because I have heard with inexpressi ble pleasure, that these inquiries have already been useful in thinning the ranks of infidelity. The inducements of this study are indeed greater than in any former age of the church. The coincidence between prophecy and its fulfilment is in these lattei»days grandly conspicuous. It is such, that "he who runs may read." The winding up of the whole seems to be near at hand. The last prophecy musjf-eie long, find " her . mate," in the last event of humanity. Prediction is almost swallowed up in accomplishment. Happy_ are those, who with reason enlightened by a ray of divine [intelligence, can trace the wonderful coincidence, which subsists between what God has foretold, and what he has done; whose thoughts stretch forward in awful, yet fearless anticipation of what God is about to do! ' But to attempt any discussion of the views that are held upon this subject, would be foreign to the purpose of this little treatise. If we would enter fully into the prophetic writ ings, we must, like Daniel, " set our faces.unto the Lord God, to seek by prayer and supplication." My object is to hint to the youthful student, who may probably be hereafter engaged in this most interesting contemplation, the extreme import ance of having his imagination under the strictest discipline of reason. If ever the " spirit of a sound mind" was neces sary, it is so in the investigation of the future prophecies. A more than mathematical accuracy of definition, of statement, and of argument, should be carried into all that is said or writ ten upon this subject. When I consider the extraordinary spirit of inquiry that is now -beginning to spread; when I think I perceive that these inquiries are not only justified by Scripture, but are themselves a part of prophetic fulfilment ; and when I joyfully anticipate that " many shall run to and fro" on this subject, " and knowledge shall be" wonderfully " increased ;" it is at such times that I most deeply feel the importance of intreating the young Christian diligently to cultivate, in a spirit of prayer and faith, all those parts of education, which especially tend to impart soundness, pene- trativeness, and energy to his reasoning powers.' Whatever may be thought of the somewhat novel connec tion of prophecy with mathematical study, it would have been well for some of our modern interpreters to have disciplined their minds to the principles of this more severe science; Mijch crude and dogmatical statement would have been re strained, many painful absurdities would have been excluded, and much perplexity spared to the path of the sincere, but unfurnished inquirer. The prophetic study is indeed, as Miss Graham observes, one of the characteristics of our day. The church is awakened to the full and dutiful acknowledgment of her Lord's command; "Search the Scriptures." Indeed, apart from the authority of this express command, the univer sal " spirit of prophecy," as " the testimony of Jesus," while it furnishes the true key of interpretation, gives it an impera tive claim upon our attention and regard. The succession of events most deeply interesting and solemnly instructive passing before us through the medium of the daily press, also strong ly marks our immediate and personal concern in this Scriptu ral research. Many Christians are unduly repelled by the difficulties and uncertainty which confessedly belong to the subject. But " the prophets," though they could not understand, felt it MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 513 their duty and privilege tc^" search." " We have alsj the more sure word of prophecy," with the injunction that " we do well that we take heed to it," and with a special and most encouraging promise to stimulate our "investigation. The precise extent of the claim of this study must however be variously estimated. In all cases, indeed, the considera tion of fulfilled prophecy is a component of Christian evidence to our own minds, and'will furnish the " answer, that we should be ready always to give to every man that asketh us a. reason of the hope that is in us, with meekness and fear." The study of unfulfilled prophecy ; if it be a general duty, is not in all cases the immediate duty. It must be subordinated to the primary concern of a personal interest in the Gospel. To a mind awakened to serious inquiry on its own state, yet but slightly tinctured with conviction, and imperfectly direct ed to the Saviour," the presentment of the claims of unfulfilled prophecy for consideration is a most mischievous evil. The soul is diverted from the main object of contemplation and pursuit. A speculative taste is gratified in the -place of the prac tical influence of- the truths of the Gospel. This '-' ignorance of Satan's devices" enables him to get advantage, if not to the ruin of the soul ; yet to the " corruption of the mind from the simplicity that is in Christ." And indeed under all circum stances, attention to prophecy must be regulated, in some de gree at least, by the leisure, opportunities, and advantages severally belonging to us ; not failing to pay due regard to Scriptural proportion, as well as to imperative obligation. That exclusive study, which occupies the place of Christ crucified in doctrine, and forms a substitute for the various exercises of experimental and practical habits ; is greatly to be deprecated. Besides the evils with the young inquirer just adverted to, it keeps out of sight many important subject of obligation and interest included in the sacred canon. It has originated many of the schisms now unhappily dividing the Church, by the substitution of "doubtfnl disputation" for substantial truth, greatly to the hindrance of Christian privi lege, devotedness,.and consistency. Admitting, however, the general importance of this study, the temper in which it is to be conducted is a matter of the first moment. The instauce of Daniel produced by Miss Graham, exhibits the finest specimen of the Prophetic Inter preter or Student. Such diligence of research in prostration of soul, accompanied with such sanctity, humility, faith, and perseverance, will under the most unfavourable circumstances of external destitution be honoured of God. The exercise of these holy graces will form a safe-guard against the delusive influence of human speculations, and will enable us to im prove the results of Divine teaching for the high purposes for which they were vouchsafed . The investigation of prophecy will thus become a cheering support to us in the anticipation of trials, and a quickening stimulus to the discharge of our immediate responsibilities. The warranted expectation however of 4iuman help may probably have been overrated. Though in this, more than in any other age " rnany have run to and fro" — yet it may be doubted how far Miss Graham's hopes have been realized by an increa.se of " knowledge" commensurate with the extent of research. The march of Christian intellect has been in most cases retarded by a defect of spiritual or intellectual qualifications. Some of the more elaborate and practised writers want that unction and spirituality, which evidence a mind Divinely-instructed for this* " search into the deep things of God;" and this deficiency of the stamp of heavenly influ ence, materially weakens our confidence in the results from their subsidiary intellectual advantages. Other writers of a more decided evangelical school are too sparingly furnished with those resources of erudition and intelligence, which doubt less were intended to reflect valuable, though subordinate, light upon the prophetie page. Some again of the same school, have taken up crude and indigested views— the result of imagination, impulse, or excitement, rather than of matured judgment and consideration ; while the dogmatism and self- sufficiency of others give no proof of Divine suggestion, and offer no satisfaction to the inquiring mind. There is probably no accredited writer in tfce various prophetic schools, who has not contributed his quantum in clearing up difficulties, and throwino- light upon some department of the subject. Yet it may be doubted whether a connected and comprehensive scheme of the Divine system has yet been satisfactorily de veloped ; and in the different schemes that have been pro posed, much Christian discernment is required to separate in them what is solidly established, from what is unsubstan tial and speculative. Human helps must therefore under all circumstances be subsidiary— not primary, God's book must ever maintain its own supreme place. The scattered rays reflected from different parts of its prophetic system (such as the comparison of the Books of Daniel and John) and centering in one point, will often furnish a strong and clear light for the direction and encouragement of the Chris tian student. We feel therefore great confidence in recom mending a Berean search of the scriptures as the ground-work of prophetic investigation ; not omitting to avail ourselves of the industry and intelligence of accred ited writers for the expan sion, of our views, and the elucidation of our difficulties ; but at the same time exercising our judgment in dependence upon our. heavenly Teacher, again to compare the exposition of their systems with the light ofthe sacred book. In this pro cess of inquiry we are persuaded, that f' the wise shall under stand," (even though they be "way-faring fools") as far as is consistent with the Divine will, and necessary for their duty and comfort ; and for the rest they may well be content to wait for the full splendour of the light of the heavenly word. May the writer without presumption be allowed to suggest a few hints relative to the clear interpretation* and profitable study of prophecy ? 1. Let the special need, of Divine influence be primarily considered. Far be it from the writer ,to underrate the intel lectual qualifications. He is well aware of the treasures of erudition, that have been effectively applied to this most im portant subject. He would have the whole field of prophecy traversed with all the mind and research that can be brought to bear upon it.- But he cannot forget that the teaching wis dom belongs to God ; and that it is the irradiation of his holy light, which can alone illumine the dark places in thiSj to us, uncertain, track. Let the interpreter duly weigh his special and weighty responsibilities. • How large a portion of the grace and " wisdom that is from above," does he need, to induce that waiting spirit so acceptable to God ; to restrain the rising of dogmatism, spiritual self-will and conceit ; to repress "private interpretations," so inconsistent with the comprehensiveness of scripture prophecy ; to guard against giving his own mind in the professed desire only to interpret the mind of God ; to take an entire view of the whole range. of prophecy, instead of contracting his interest to a few favourite points ; to forbear with the decided views of his opponents ; readily to retract his indigested opinions, and to yield his prejudices to the influence of more correct and en larged apprehensions ; habitually to connect every view with the glory of his Saviour, and the extension of his kingdom ! These are confessedly responsibilities of no ordinary moment. They forbid trifling with the subject, as if its clear light were revealed by some momentary inspiration ; they realize the urgent need of " the Spirit of wisdom and revelation," to "enlighten the eyes ofthe understanding ;" and they incul cate a habit of dependence, supplication, seriousness, and that reverence, which Lord Bacon so justly describes as in dispensable to the profitable consideration of the subject. In the defect of this spirit, successive systems of prophecy have been ingeniously woven ; the interpreters " come together," and bring before the church their several hypotheses and con clusions; and "every one," as at Corinth, "hath a doc trine, hath a tongue, hath a revelation, hath an interpre tation." It cannot be doubted, but this defect of Chris tian simplicity is one main cause of the indeterminate apprehension of the subject. Who does not see how need ful is " singleness of eye," the gift of God, to reflect light upon the mind ; while an " evil eye," affected with some natural bias, leads us in the review of the results of human ingenuity to exclaim, " How great is this darkness !" 2. Let a forbearing spirit be inculcated in this research. The importance of this spirit in an intellectual view is suffi ciently obvious, as a guard from the prevalent evils of self- conceit. Its influence in every department of sacred truth ; especially in the field of prophecy ; is of yet higher moment. The writer's own studies in this field have brought him to the fixed conclusion; that many of the controverted points (those, for example, connected with our Lord's second Ad vent,) are embarrassed with difficulties on both sides, suffi cient to preserve wise and humble men from dogmatizing on either part.; and to excite mutual respect and forbearance, rather than what we are too-, often constrained to see — brethren grudging one against another." The event indeed is a doctrine of faith, absolutely certain. The time and cir cumstantials being imperfectly revealed, are matters of for bearance; on which all, even the most sober, interpreters have been constrained in the course of investigation, in some points of more or less moment, to retract, modify, or restate their views. Indeed, prophecy, according to the Scriptural 214. CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. definition, is " a light that shineth in a dark place," yet not surely the light of "perfect day;"* and well would it be for us, if the confession of our ignorance would find vent in the Apostle's adoring contemplation ; " How unsearchable are his judgments ! and his ways past finding out !" We may indeed justly expect clearer light to dawn upon us, as the consummathjn of the grand events draws on. Meanwhile we must combine diligent study with cautious application. We must be content for the most part with the statement of general views and results. If the events are clear, the time, mode, and means of their accomplishment are often undefined. WTe are assured, that none of the Divine predictions can fall to the ground ; that the events contemplated in them are the fruit of the Lord's superintending love to his church, and that they will all issue in the final advancement of his own glory. In this recollection it is most suitable to cultivate that truly Christian spirit of patient expectancy which in child-like humility, not in slumbering indolence, is content to leave to the Lord the unfolding of his own purposes. The writer may be permitted to observe, that a less deter minate, fixing of dates of the several prophetic eras offers large room for the exercise of this forbearing spirit. Prophets with all their warranted confidence were modest. They never spoke without a clear commission: "Thus saith the Lord." Interpreters of prophecy are not always so modest. The confident mode of calculation which is sometimes adopt ed, might lead us to suppose not only that the several periods, but also that their commencing points, were, like Daniel's weeks, absolutely revealed. To a few of the most important eras, dates more or less probable, but not absolutely decisive, may be assigned ; and in periods of less moment, experience has fully shown, how unsatisfactory all attempts to fix the precise periods of events have> proved and are likely to prove. Our Lord, while he reproved listless indifference to "the signs ofthe times," rebuked with no less decision this presumptuous interference with his Sovereign prerogative. 'If ever,' as Miss Graham admirably observes, '"the spirit of a sound mind" is necessary, it is so in the investigation of _the future prophecies.! Wise and holy men of God will learn to speak with caution and reserve upon subjects obscurely re vealed. General views are sufficient for the ground and en couragement of faith. And the cloud that still covers this mystic history of futurity, abundantly shows, that the end of prophecy was not to make us prophets; but to " set us upon our watch-tower," as diligent and humble inquirers, seek ing to "have understanding of the signs of the times, that we might know what Israel ought to do," and to expect. Indeed this designed darkness subserves various and im portant uses. It furnishes a needful and wholesome check upon human speculation. Had the Great Author of prophecy intended it as-the rule of life, he would doubtless have writ ten it with a sun-beam. In its present mode and character of revelation it is however admirably suited; not indeed to indulge unwarrantable curiosity, but to exercise our faith, to call forth our Christian graces, to enliven our hopes, to quicken our anticipation of the ultimate triumph of the king dom of Christ; and meanwhile that we should' mark with soberness the gradual development of progress towards this glorious consummation. It is far more profitable; instead of making a framework for ourselves ; to be looking in the Lord's best time for that clear reflection of light in the" fulfilment of prophecy, which will awe even the most inconsiderate to conviction. " This is the finger of God. What hath God wrought ?" 3. Let the subject be ever considered as a practical study It is a sign of an unhealthy excited temperament, if the prophetic parts of scripture be moTe interesting than the pre ceptive, that is, if we are more conversant with matters of uncertain interpretation, than with the subjects that relate to our immediate duty. If the prophetic study be dissociated from its practical character and consequences, our prepossess ed fancy is far more likely to give the interpretation than the Divine Spirit. The blessing belongs to those that " keep the things that are written in the words of this prophecy." The fruit of Daniel's research was that which is most specially needed at the present eventful moment : intercession for the church and for the land ; Habakkuk went to his watch-tower, not to speculate in idle curiosity, but, as we have before hinted , to be ih readiness to hear the valuable lessons of reproof and instruction that were designed for him. Supposing that the period of accomplishment is far distant, yet there is a large preparatory work of.prayer, exertion, and Christian de- votedness, urgently pressing upon us. And far better shall we be employed in girding ourselves to the discharge of the practical obligations of prophecy, than in minutely tracing out the conjectured period and mode of its fulfilment, and in attempting to narrow its wide and comprehensive sphere by uncertain application to the little-*particularities of our own time and place. Is there no danger while fixing the dates and describing the circumstantials of the grand coming events, lest we forget that every page of prophecy is a direct per sonal revelation to our own souls, and lest we- too slightly regard those clearest predictions of the sacred page; the promises of God to his people, and his threatenings to the unbelieving world ? How much has been lost to the church by a speculative con templation of the prophetic view ofthe doctrine pf our Lord's second advent ! If, instead of filling up (from the resources of imagination more thanfrom the substance of Scripture) the outlines, the faith of the church had been singly fixed upon the glory of this consummating event, and intensely exercised in the glow of expectancy, how different would have been her aspect at the present moment ! What a bond of union would have subsisted among her members ! What an atmosphere of love would have pervaded her territory ! What a spring of holy consecration would have been in extended activity ! It ill becomes servants, looking for the return of their absent lord, to spend themselves in discussing the' mode and circum stantials of his coming, when they might be far more suitably employed in preparing the house for his reception, and in rea diness to give an immediate answer to his welcome knock. The obscurity that hangs over the precise period of our Lord's coming is indeed a most wise and gracious dispensa tion to invigorate the church in every age with the high pri vilege and obligation of looking for this triumphant crisis. Whatever views therefore tend to divert the attention from the present duties connected with this anticipation, are the un- scriptural delusions of man's conceit. This spirit of constant expectancy may be considered as the perfecting feature of the Christian character. It concentrates all the practical and animating exercises of the Gospel. What an encouragement does it supply to the assurance of faith ! What a stimulus to activity, devotedness, abounding love, heavenly conversation, sobrietry of spirit, readiness of habit, and watchful prepara tion for eternity ! What support does it furnish in the hour of trial, whether from the immediate visitations of God, or the persecuting enmity of man ! What materials does it give for personal edification, compassionate labours for the unconvert ed, and mutual exhortation and comfort in the church of God ! How cheering is the prospect which it holds out of complete transformation into the image of our beloved Lord! What patient hope and joyful anticipation does it bring into the waiting soul ! So eminently practical — so richly consolatpry — is the believing and habitual contemplation of the coming of our Lord ! Indeed when we realize the hope of body and soul at this blissful era being equal participants of the eternal redemption — the happiness of every member ofthe body con summated in the complete glorification ofthe whole body — and the church, "filled with all the fulness of God,", presenting to the universe the entire "fulness of Him, that filleth all in all" — we may-well conceive, that never was an event so joy ful known on earth since the fall of man. We wonder not that " the whole creation," now "groaning and travailing to gether in pain" under theruins of sin — should then be awaken ed to joyful, exultation in its " deliverance from the bondage of corruption into the glorious libertyof the children of God." This scriptural privilege of expectancy was however incul cated upon the church, while the event which it contemplated could only be seen through the long vista of some thousand years. It does not therefore necessarily imply the approach of the grand crisis. Yet the view -which has just been given of it, includes all the essential principles of sanctification and of happiness. We cannot therefore- but see sufficient reason for the large space which it occupies in the enforcement of Christian obligation, and' the prospects of Christian hope. Our Divine Saviour is brought eternally near to his people. His perfect likeness is the immediate consequence of his vi sion. His glory is their everlasting joy. It is painful to reflect, that a .speculative study of prophecy should have so materially injured the influence of those pros pects of the church upon her present duties and privileges. The minute descriptive details, thathave been sometimes con nected with the coming of Christ in his kingdom (not to speak of their' doubtful scriptural, authority, and their closer alliance to earth than to heaven) have a strong tendency tore- press a spiritual contemplation of this great event. Even the details given in the -prophetic books are much under the veil. Interpreters expound them according to the principles of their MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 215 different systems ; and after all their diligence and labour, much is left unexplained, or resting upon conjectural support. In these things the writer is content to " walk by faith, not by sight." All that is necessary is revealed. We shall be as- happy as God can make us. As to any precise knowledge " it doth not yet appear what we shall be." And such knowledge we want not. It exhibits a far more enlarged ex pectancy to be assured, that it will be something that we nei ther know nor can know — interminable bliss without sin, and with Christ.. Our happiness centres in the certainty and glory, not in the circumstantials, of the event. And surely the " shaking of earth and heaven," which seems to -be at hand, will quicken the cry for our expected Lord — ' C\jme quickly. Take to thyself the kingdom, and reign wilh all thy saints.' The waiting Christian, in these times of special trial of the church, "lifts up his head full pf joy and expec tation. Faith overcomes the tremendous thought of wrath and judgment, as the harbingers of his coming; and still the cry is re-echoed to the solemn declaration, — " Surely I come quickly : Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus." 3. On Christian Experience and Practical Religion. Miss Graham's correspondence, flowing in an easy and na tural strain, will be generally interesting. Even where no striking features are visible, an affectionate earnestness, ten der sympathy, and a. direct application of the first principles of the Gospel to the several cases of her friends cannot fail of being observed. The following letter appears to have been written to a friend, newly awakened to concern for her eternal interests. Nov. 1826. 'I fancy that you have for some time past felt a conviction that religion i§ something more than you used to think it, more than. the world in. general seem to think it. But yet, perhaps, you do not see very clearly, what more it is that re ligion requires of you. You see, that there is nothing in this yain world capable of satisfying the desires of your immortal spirit; but you do not clearly comprehend what there is in religion- to satisfy all our desires. You seek the Lord; but you do not yet feel as if you had found Him. You probably spend much time iu reading the scriptures ; but sometimes they seem obscure and unintelligible, sometimes dry and un interesting. You often pray ; but do not always find either comfort or sweetness in prayer. Sometimes .you feel as if you could give up every earthly enjoyment for one glimpse of that f Jove of Christ which passeth knowledge;" and at other times it seems to you very foolish and unreasonable to pretend to more religion than other people. This is what many feel, who are beginning to be very anxious about re ligion. I cannot help indulging a strong hope, that you will soon find in the love of Jesus all that you want to make you happy ; only let me beg of you to seek him simply, under the conviction that we can neither do nor think any thing good without Him; that "every thought is. evil, only evil, and that continually ;" and that, while we continue in this state, we cannot understand^ the things of the Spirit of God, because they will appear "foolishness to us." The change which every person must undergo, before they can truly re ceive Christ as their Saviour, is described in terms no less . striking — " Ye must be born again." " If any man be in Christ Jesus, he is a. new creature; old things are passed ' away ; behold ! all things are become new !" In'other parts it is described as a change from death unto life, "from dark ness to light, from the power of Satan to' God." But I will not multiply instances. Surely such a change as this cannot be the cold, worldly, heartless religion, with which the gene rality of people sit down satisfied ! Surely it is a change we have no power to make in ourselves. When God " breathed into man's nostrils the breath of life," it was a wonderful act of his creating power. But when he breathes spiritual life into the soul of one "dead in tresspasses and sins," this seems more wonderful ; and yet this is what we vainly think we can do oursejves. But if we can be once convinced, that we are-so utterly worthless and sinfuj, that none but Christ can save us, then we shall go to Him for every thing. If we want repentance, wisdom, holiness, salvation, all these are His to give ; He promises to give them to every one that asks Him. 0 be much in prayer to this precious Saviour ! He has declared, that none shall seek Him in vain. Those who leave off trusting in themselves, and cling with a single and undivided heart to the cross of Christ; and " count every thing else but loss, so they may win Christ and be found in Him" — what words can describe their blessedness ! How true it is, that those who seek happiness' -in any thing except Christ Jesus, are " hewing out to themselves broken cisterns -that can hold no water !" Come then, my most dearly loved friend, come with me to " the fountain of living, waters" — come to Him who has said — "If any man thirst, let him come to me, and drink"— as if he had said — 'If there.be any poor sinner, who has begun to find out that the pleasures of this world cannot .quench his thirst after happiness, if he long for something less vain' and empty and unsatisfying, let him come unto me.' Do you desire to give yourself.to Christ, to make him your all in all ? Then let not any fears or mis givings keep you away from him, for he " waits to be gra cious" to you. Your sins need not keep you away ; for he came to call sinners. He calls Himself the friend of sinners ; and indeed, till you are taught by His Spirit, how exceeding ly sinful you are, you cannot prize Him as you ought. Let me intreat you often to dwell on the " precious promises" of Scripture. Remember, that " in Him all the promises are yea and amen ;" and if we plead in His name for the fulfilment, the truth and faithfulness of God (who cannot lie) stand engaged to perform them for us. There is one in particular tvhich seems to me full of encouragement ; it describes so fully the state of heart we want, and promises to give what it describes to those who inquire of the Lord. See Ezek. xxxvi. 25 — 37.' . The next letter is of a later date, and implies a more dis tinct advance of Christian knowledge in her friend. ' Let me use the privilege jof friendship, and entreat you to look less at the dark side of your prospects, and more at the unspeakable mercies with which God has favoured you; par ticularly that he has given you the greatest blessing he has to give, in calling you to become his reconciled child by faith in Christ Jesus. And having given you an interest in his Son, " shall he not with him- freely give you all things?" — all things that are good for you, my dear friend. If therefore your wishes are not satisfied, it must be because it is not for your good to satisfy them. Your lot has been chosen out for you by one, who is infinitely wise and kind, as the very best for your present and eternal happiness, and " He doeth all things well;" You will ultimately find peace in religion; I am sure you will ; and in the mean time is it not a blessing, that you are not permitted to take up your rest here, and find the false destroying peace, which so many experience in worldly enjoyments? What if you were to ask God in Christ's name for the fulfilment of such a promise as this — " Behold I will bring in health and cure, and I will heal him, and will reveal unto him the abundance of peace and of truth" would he deny you? Considering that no promise of Scripture " is of private interpretation" — not meant for one part of the church, or one age of it, but for the whole flock of Christ now, and every member of it, and therefore for you — consider ing too, " that all the promises of God are yea and amen to us in Christ Jesiis ;" and that Christ himself has said — "If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will give it you" — what en- couragement,have we to take these promises to God in pray er, to wrestle with him, and declare with holy confidence — " I will not let thee go, except thou bless me !" Oh ! he would bless you; and his "blessing maketh rich, and he addeth no sorrow with it." My dear friend, you must come to God thus, and " give him no rest," till he grant y ou'the promised bless ing. You must not take a denial. May the Spirit of prayer be abundantly poured out upon you ! It is our privilege to take our sins and sorrows, and cast them upon Christ : he has already borne their agonizing weight; why should we groan under them? " Cast thy burden upon the Lord." Would.that I could actas I sfdvise ! But I fall very, very far short. Even -my desfres after this state of mind are miserably faint and cold ; but let us both take comfort in the reflection, that we are accepted in Chrisi; " complete in him ;" beloved, not for our deserving, but for his ; and his are " the same yesterday, to day, and for ever." When we fail, Christ remains the same ; and it is for the sake of what he has done, that God will accept us ; not for any thing we can do ; or we might indeed go mourning all the day long.', These letters mark tbe general tone of Miss Graham's cor respondence in affectionate counsel and scriptural encourage ment. The case to which they primarily refer is among the most difficult and delicate within the compass of Christian instruction. No service is more valuable to tho sincere but uni ntelligent inquirer than to-enterinto his ease with tenderness', forbearance, and anxious consideration of his difficulties. Vague and ill-defined directions throw little light upon his path. Even the primary and immediate counsel, guiding him to the Saviour of sinners, needs a present and particular appli cation to his individual state. His difficulties will indeed vary according to his simplicity, sincerity, and earnestness. 216 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. But under all circumstances, the instant duty of believing in Christ must be inculcated. No deficiency of spiritual appre hensions must be allowed to hinder immediate attention to "this work of God."* The Gospel was not intended to answer the question— " What shall I do, that I may inherit eternal •life ?" But it affords a satisfactory reply to a question more nearly interesting to the condition of a* sinner — " How can man be just with God !" It opens by the instrumentality of faith a free, immediate, universally accessible way to favour able acceptance with our offended God. No perplexing course of preparatory discipline is required. All are invited without limitation, without delay. Infinite mercy and grace are pro vided for infinite need. Only those that feel will ask ; and all that ask shall have. Thus a sense, of sin is the prerequisite, without which no man will come (for " the whole need not the physician;") but it is no part of the warrant to come. The Scripture has no where prescribed any uniform rule, or mea sured out the precise extent of necessary conviction. All con stitutions are not formed alike ; and therefore pungency is no certain proof of sincerity. Many are brought without a process of painful exercise to a simple and clear reception of the truth. The soul is as welcome to Christ at the first moment of invitation as at any successive period ; and protracted conflict manifests only the stubborn power of unbelief; a sin, which the Spirit of God will not fail to apply as matter of humil iating conviction. To insist •therefore upon a determined measure or intensity of well-defined conviction as a prepara tion of faith, is an infringement upon the freeness and- simpli city of the Gospel. The law also, as the instrument to pro duce this conviction, must be used in immediate connection with Christ. He is the life ; and if he be not set forth at the commencement, there will be only the temporary and un satisfactory change from a state of indifference to a state of bondage, without any effective principle of holiness or of privi lege, and the man will be satisfied without that entire simpli city of faith and self-dedication so indispensable to salvation. Even in the exhibition of Clirist, the mind of the inquirer must be diverted from a too minute and anxious analysis of its own exercises of faith to a fixed contemplation of the glorious Person presented to view. The emphasis of the invitation is, "Look — Come unto me.". The first sensation of rest will be connected not with a precise knowledge of our own feelings, hut with an entire dependence upon the work of Christ. Though self-examination is intimately connected with the prosperity and advance ofthe Christain life; yet it must never be employed to originate our peace and hope in the Gospel ; but to ascertain the reality of our hope ;'to detect false confidence and backsliding ; to bring to us the warrant ed enjoyment of " the testimony of our consciences," in regard to the consistency of our profession ; and to mark our progress in knowledge, experience, and practical devotedness. One further point, connected with the case of the inquirer is of indispensable moment. He may be assured that there is no indefinitely future period ; no " day of the Lord's power" more favourable for his acceptance than the present; and that no deficiency of knowledge can acquit him of the obligation of an instant surrender of himself to God. This very moment the Lord demands his unreserved faith, and his whole heart; and every delay brings a fresh charge of guilt, widens the distance, and increases the difficulty. * John vi. 28, 29. This instant duty of believing is however ques fioned by some of our modern religionists — either as seeming to imply a natural power to believe, or as inconsistent with the mani fest inability to believe without a divine principle. But eur Lord inculcated the duty upon the unbelieving multitude in this passage' in answer to their professed inquiry upon the subject of duty. He sub sequently enforced it upon the same class of hearers (John xii. 36, with 37, 40.) Besides — as sin is the neglect or resistance of obliga tion, if faith be not tbe duty of the unconverted, unbelief is not their sin — consequently — not what the Gospel repeatedly declares it to be — the primary ground of their condemnation (John iii. 18, 19, xii. 48. xvi. 8, 9. 2 Thess, ii. 10, 11.) This system of measuring duty by ability, and of admitting inability to cancel obligation, equally annuls every bond of love and obedience, by which man is connected with bis God, but for which he is no less incapacitated than for the spiritual exercise of faith. It argues also a forgetfulness of the just ice of the divine requirements, and of the responsibility of diat sinful •inclination, which constitutes the principle of his impotency to com- ily with them. The commission ofthe Gospel is an universal call olh to repentance and faith (Mark i. 15. xvi. 15, 16. Acts xvii. 30.) The cross of Christ is held up to the whole world. (Isaiah xlv. 22.) The Holy Spirit employs its awakening and attractive influence as die means ot quickening sinners to life. (John xii. 32.) Thus the grace of God is glorified, while the unbelief of man excludes him from the free justification of the Gospel, and consequently leaves him without excuse. t The following letter, written about two months before her death, gives an interesting view of her own search after truth, and marks a discriminating apprehension of the Gospel. Stoke Fleming, Oct. 1830. ' I am grieved that you should for a moment imagine that I think our- dear must be lost, because she does not subscribe to the doctrines of Calvin. Ido not myself so much as know what all Calvin's doctrines are, or whether I should subscribe to them myself? I have read one book of Calvin's, many parts of which pleased me much, I mean his Institutes, which Bishop Horsley says ought to be in every clergyman's library. Further than this I know nothing of Calvin, or his opinions. I certainly did not form one single opinion from his book, for I had formed all my opinions long before from the Bible. You may remember my telling you, that some yeaTS ago 1 declined greatly, almost entirely (inwardly) from the ways of God, and in my breast was an infidel, a disbe liever in the truths of the Bible, When the Lordbroughtme out of that dreadful 'state, and established my faith in- his word, I determined to take that word alone for my -guide. I read nothing else for between three and four months, and the Lord helped me to pray over every word that I read. At that time, and from that reading, all my religious opinions were formed, and I have not changed one of them since. I knew nothing then of Calvin. I have said so much, dear , because I think it a very wicked thing to do, as you seem to think I do, to call Calvin or any man " master on earth," or to make any human writer our guide in spiritual things. Christ only should be our master, and his word our guide, and his Spirit our teacher ; and that Holy Spirit willhe-given to us if we ask for it. But I suppose by the doctrines of Calvin you meant the doctrine of predestination, which Cal vin, in common with many other o£ God's saints, believed and preached. My belief and settled opinion about predes tination, you will find expressed more clearly than any words of mine can do in John vi. 37, 39, 65. Rom. viii. 28 — 30. Rom. ix. Eph. i. 3—6, 11. 2 Thess. ii. 13, 14. 2 Tim. i. 9, 10. Titus i. 1", 2. 1 Peter i. 2—5. 1 John iv. 19. Rev. xvii. 8. John xv. 16. I also join in every word ofthe 17th Article of our church ; so much so, that if asked my opinion about predestination, I should give it in those very words, from the impossibility of finding any others, which in so short a space expressed my meaning so well. But this article is only of human authority, therefore I should bring forward the proof from the Scriptures of that God who cannot lie. I have just given you a few texts as they struck me. They are, I believe, enough for my present purpose : but detached texts lose much of their power : it is the whole sense ofthe whole Bible that should determine us ; and since " the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, (for they are foolishness to him)," let us pray to become spiritual, " that we may know the things -that are freely given us of God." The above texts will give you en idea of my opinion. Indeed some of them are exceedingly plain, and strong, and full, in their account ofthe doctrine. I endeavour to receive them as a little child, in their plain literal meaning. 'But to return to our dear ; I think the doctrine of election essential to the comfort and consistency of our walk with God : because I deem it essential to receive the whole' Bible, and every truth contained in every part of the Bible without partiality or gainsaying. But I do not consider a be lief in the doctrine essentially necessary to salvation. I do consider a simple trust in the atonement and righteousness of Jesus Christ as absolutely necessary to salvation. If then, dearest , your beloved friend and mine tfto, (for I do most sincerely love her) possesses this simple reliance on the death and obedience of Christ for salvation, doubt not that she will be saved ; though she may not yet have been able to receive those high and humbling doctrines which very few Christians do receive in the commencement of their course, and which some cannot to the very end thoroughly embrace. Many, however, I think embrace the actual doctrine, though they cannot bear the words predestination, election, &c: A strange dislike, since both words happen to be taken from scripture. My beloved would have been quite distressed, had I supported the doctrine of predestination in my conversations with her under the name of predestination ; and yet we often conversed on the thing itself and subjects connected with it; nor did I find her ideas differ greatly from mine. " Other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, Jesus Christ." All who are built on this foundation, who are thus founded on the Rock of Ages, must be secure. "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and*thou shalt be saved," Acts xvi. 31, &c. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 217 " He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life ; and he that believeth not the Son, shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him" John iii. 36. See also John iii. 15, 16, 18. v. 24. vi. 40, 47. xi. 25, 26, &c.' The two next letters are of the class of those which were formerly adduced in illustration of her clear apprehensions of Scriptural truth. The first lette*- introduces some incidental notices of interest. It seems to have been written to the cor respondent, whom she had formerly addressed on the subject of Christian study. Stoke Fleming, Jan. 4, 1827. ' My own dear.Friend, ' Every letter I receive from you gives me fresh cause for thankfulness, and increases my hope, that you have learnt of Him who teacheth, and will certainly never leave you till he has given you that "joy and peace in believing," which all His children sooner or later experience. I trust that the love of my God to you will be a constant source of thanksgiving and self-abasement to me ; for Oh ! what thanks can I render to Him, for the love with which He is now calling you out of the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of His dear Son ? And how can I ever be sufficiently humbled, when I reflect how unfaithfully and inconsistently I have acted towards you? One instance in particular is now fresh in my memory. You once asked me to write to you ; and I put it off from day to day, till at last, I wickedly persuaded myself that I could not do it at all. I hope you will forgive this cruel neglect, " as God for Christ's sake has forgiven me ;" and that we shall be enabled henceforth, to love and help one another in His strength, and for his sake. 'Dear -, how can you say that I am your dearest friend, and only comforter ? I glory in the thought, that you have a Friend, whose love is stronger than death, and a Com forter, who is able to make you rejoice with joy unspeakable; and to whose blessing and influence we must refer it, that such poor, helpless, and sinful creatures as we are, can ever \e of the slightest use in helping or comforting each other. I know you long to call Jesus your friend, and the Holy Spirit your Comforter ; and where does this longing come from ? Not surely from your ow_n evil heart ; for from that corrupt source can proceed nothing but hatred or indifference to God and His ways. Besides, it is a feeling you once knew no thing of. Believe me — rather believe the Scriptures when they say — that every desire of the. soul after God, is inspired by Himself, and is the fruit of His own free love in Christ Jesus—" I have loved thee with an everlasting love ; therefore with loving kindness have T drawn thee." " Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you." " No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sentme draw him." " All that the Father giveth me shall come to me ; and him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out." Now, do you not feel yourself drawn towards Cod ? Does not your heart some times choose Christ in preference to every earthly blessing ? Do you not come to Christ in prayer, beseeching Him to re ceive you ? And do not the texts I have mentioned, with a thousand others ofthe same import, warrant the. inference — that you " come" to Christ, because " the Father has given you to Christ," and draws you to Him ; that He " draws you with loving kindness, because he has loved you with an ever lasting love ;" and finally, that He will " never cast you out?" My dear friend, I would not, indeed I would not, flat ter you with a false hope. I know of nothing so melancholy as the way in which the world say — " Peace, peace, to them selves, when there is no peace" — no rational ground of hope. But the hope of a soul convinced of sin, renouncing all trust in its own righteousness, and casting itself on the mercy of Jesus, cannot be a vain or presumptuous hope; because it is founded on the word of God. You say, you feel so wicked and so worthless, that you dare not hope. Now till you felt yourself to be both exceedingly wicked and worthless, you could not be a fit object of Christ's grace, who says — "They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick." "I came not to call the righteous*, but sinners to repentance." I know that many, when they first come to a sense of their own sinfulness, think something in this way: 'Christ will never receive so vile a sinner as I am ; I must repent, and pray and try to make myself a little better; and then per haps I may deserve his favour.' Alas!, they know not that repentance and prayer are his free gifts, "and instead of pray ing for the pardon we receive, are themselves a part of it. Would it not have been as reasonable for the leper to have waited, till he could cleanse himself from his leprosy ; the blind man, until his sight was improved : or the sick of the Vol. IL— 2 C • palsy, till he could take up his bed and walk, before they would come to Jesus to be healed? The first chapter of Romans, from the 18th to the 32d verse gives an awful de scription of the state of every man's heart by nature ; and though education and the restraints of civilized society have prevented the breaking out of sin in the dreadful and open way in which it was indulged among the heathen, still I think every person awakened to a sense of sin, will perceive in it, as in a glass, their own image; at least they will ac knowledge, that the seed of every sin is in their heart, especially that most unnatural and truly diabolical sin, of" wor shipping and -serving the creature more than the Creator." And lest we should imagine that living in a, country where God is known, and joining in acts of outward religion can make the heart really better, till it is converted to God ; the Apostle goes on, in the second and third chapters, to prove that the Jew is no better than the Gentile ; that " there is no difference ; every mouth must be stopped, and all the world become guilty before God." And it is immediately after having given us such an awful view of our state, in the sight of God, that he goes on to hold out free and unconditional salvation, to all who simply trust in the death arid righteous ness of Christ. But I doubt not, you will soon perceive to youf comfort, how very free the offers of grace in the gospel are. I cannot forbear mentioning one more instance ; it is in the parable ofthe two debtors in the seventh of Luke" — "And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them all." It is when we are brought to this feeling, that we " have no thing to pay," that our hearts are in a fit state to receive with eagerness and delight the " frank forgiveness" of our Saviour; then we give Him all the glory of it, Surely you and 1 feel ourselves to be in the situation of the debtor who owed most. We have nothing to pay ; and sometimes I think I can even rejoice in this extremity of poverty ; since it hides pride and boasting from me, and makes the mercy of God appear so divinely infinite. I do not know, that you have any reason forfancying thatyou shall die young ; but though the thoughts of death are useful to all, and delightful to those' whose sins are forgiven for Jesus' sake? I think we ought rather- to be willing to live as long as our heavenly Father pleases, in hopes of being the means of bringing others fo him. ' I am glad you like your pupils so much. I feel incom petent to give you any advice about them : I believe the great thing is to pray much for them,.that they may have that grace, which alone can make the Sabbath a delight. We should also pray with them, and let them see that we are very anx ious about^their salvation, and that, though we attach much importance to their progress in other things, we look upon them all as nothing in comparison with the knowledge of Christ. Children sometimes take much pleasure in answer ing a few simple questions on a chapter they have read ; and in this way very little children may be made to comprehend a reat deal. Many of the parables, types, and emblems in Scripture are particularly adapted to their capacities, and afford them great delight. I have seen a little child, who would have been tired to death with'a serious discourse, listen for a long time with unwearied attention, whilst being told in its own childish language, how Christ compared himself to a vine, and his people to living branches ; or how Christ as the good Shepherd, " gathers the lambs with. His arms, and car ries them in His bosom." While explaining- these things, they should be taught the text or texts referted to ; that so a portion of God's own word may be fixed on their hearts. I think, however, there is nothing more important than to stop as soon as the attention of our little hearers seem to tire. Sometimes the eldest may be set to teach the youngest some verse or hymn. SaHpture prints also form a very good re source for Sunday employment. Children are so artless, that we can soon perceive what pleases them most; and what ever kind of religious conversation or employment 'seems particularly to interest them, should be brought out on Sunday, to make it as pleasant a day as possible to them. 'I hardly know how to say a word against Jeremy Taylor; he is a great favourite of mine ; but I cannot help thinking his views of the doctrine of Christianity savour too much of mo nastic severity, and too little of the simplicity which is in Christ Jesus. The times he wrote in may account for these inconsistencies in the writings of so holy a man; but 1 think they are calculated to increase the melancholy of any one who is unhappy about religion ; because there is something so ob scure and confused in his ideas upon many important points. I must now, my deafC- , bid you farewell ; I need not tell you what pleasure it gives me to hear from you ; nor how earnestly I wish, that you may find the peace and comfort 218 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. you are seeking. My earnest prayer is that the promised " Spirit of truth" may be with you, to " guide you into all truth." The weaknesses you own to me are exactly what I have felt, and do feel myself; but God will overcome them for us, and enable us to " bring every thought into subjection to the obedience of Christ." I am sometimes afraid, that my using so much Scripture language, may appear like cant or affectation to you.; but I do it, because, when I express myself in the sense, and as much as possible in the words, of Scripture, I have less, fear of misleading you, or of mixing my own earthly ideas with the pure and heavenly truths on which we are conversing.' Again — Stoke, Jan. 22, 1827. ' Though I have not yet heard of you,- 1 am sure that all things are going on well with you, since the very God of love is be come your God, and will be your Father and guide for ever, May you know more and more every day of his forgiving love, and be led to feel that you are with Jesus, " who has loved you, and washed you from your sins in his own blood !" O my dear friend, my heart is full of joy, when I think that the Lord has taught you to seek happiness in Him. " Bless ed are they ,that hunger and thirst after righteousness" — says this precious Saviour — "for they shall be filled." ¦ Therefore from his,pwn words I have a warrant to call you " blessed ;" and -if he has given you himself, I care not what else he takes from you ; knowing, as I do, that you can want nothing that is good for you, while the Lord of life and glory is yours. What a blessed prospect lies before you ! The same Spirit, that has been showing you the vanity and sinfulness of your own heart, will not stop short there. No : He will " guide you into all truth; He will take of the things of Christ, and show them unto you :" He will " shed abroad the love of God in your heart :" He will, in His own time, " fill you with joy and peace in believing;" He will bring you on " from strength to strength," and "from glory to glory,'-' till at length He removes you hence, to that heaven, where you shall see Christ as He is, be like Him, and dwell with Him for evCr. Now you have nothing to do but to live upon the fulness of Jesus,, casting away your own righteousness, which is no better than filthy rags : your own strength, which is mere weakness ; and your own wisdom, which is foolishness with God. You must put forth the hand of faith, and lay hold of the righteousness of Jesus, which He offers you as His free gift, Rom. v. 15, 21 — His strength, which is suffi cient for you. 2 Cor. xii. 9, 10. Eph. vi. 10. Phil. iv. 13. 1 John iv. 4 — and his wisdom, which is also freely yours for Christ's sake. 1 Cor. i. 30. Only go on asking him for more, more, still more of his precious love. He cannot deny it you ; for he has said, " that whatsoever ye shall ask in his name, he will give you." You cannot ask too much; for think of the great things the apostles asked, Eph. iii. 14—19 yet he concludes all by saying, " Unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think." Dear , is not ours a happy lot? "If God be for us; who can be against us? Who shall lay any thing to the Charge of God's elect? It -is God that justifieth: who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died; yea, rather, that is risen again; who is even at the right hand of God; who also maketh intercession for us." Here is our anchor of hope — Christ died; Christ is risen; Christ intercedes. When Satan, or our own evil conscience accuses us, we are too apt to look for comfort to something in ourselves. In this we shall always be disappointed ; if we look to Christ, we never shall. May. he teach us by his own Spirit how to live by faith in him. I long to hear from you, a«l to know whether you have yet been able to find peace in wod. This precious gift will, I know, be bestowed upon you. Do tell me all you feel, and let me often have a letter from you; for, believe me, scarcely- any thing can afford me greater pleasure. ' I pray that your communications may always bring me the happy news, that you are more and more devoted to our dearest Lord, in whom, may we, my dearest friend, become daily more united. There is a common friendship which is very delightful ; but there is a communion of spirit, peculiar to those who love the Lord Jesus ; and this is what I trust He will grant to us ; 'for it will last, when common friendship has been long Withered by the hand of death. May you be blessed with every spiritual blessing, and rooted and ground ed in love. This is the prayer of, &c.' The next letter exhibits accurate discrimination, and a high standard of Christian Experience. 'I was much interested, my dearest friend, in what you said about mingling earthly with heavenly feeling. It is a difficult question, and one which I am sure I am not fit to an swer. Only I think, we may in some degree know whether our love is of the right kind or not, by asking ourselves whe ther it really is God that we love in pur friends, and in our communion with them : whether we love those that are in Christ, incomparably more than those who are not in him ; and wbether after all we could give up the society of the very best and dearest of them all, rather than lose one particle of God's favour. Surely we may love our friends, and that most dearly, for God requires it of us ; but then " be that loveth father or mother more than him, is not worthy of him." Love to our friends seems the purest earthly feeling. Yet I think, if we find ourselves enjoying devotion in its social privileges, more than in personal communion with God, our devotion cannot have been altogether of a spiritual character. But while we lament over the weakness and inconsistency, which spoil our holiest actions, and defile the sweetest affections God has given us, let us take comfort in the thought, that " we have not an high priest, who cannot be touched with a feeling of our infirmities." " He knoweth our frame, he re- membereth that we are dust;" and (what should raise our gratitude to the highest pitch) he himself has been made dust, like unto our miserable dust in all things, except sin, on purpose that he might be able to " have compassion on the ignorant, and on those who are out of the way." There is such a clear view given to us in the Epistle to the Hebrews ofthe twofold nature of the Lord Jesus, that I derive unspeak able comfort from studying it. Scarcely any book makes me see so clearly that he is the Lord God, " dwelling in light in accessible; whom no man hath seen or can see ;" and yet that he is " bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh ;" able to enter into my feelings, to pity my weaknesses, and to sympathize with me in my temptations. 0 if we could but dwell upon this wonder more ! it is " the wisdom of God, and the power of God." " Angels desire to look into it;" "the spirits of the just" are for ever learning more about it ; and I know of nothing so likely to make the souls of God's people here like those who are above, as the continual contemplation of this marvellous love of God, in manifesting himself in the flesh. Dear M., how soon we shall see him face to face, " whom having not seen we love !" Let us seek to become intimate ly acquainted with him here. Let us be often conversing with him, and always near to him, that he may not have to say to us ; "I never knew you." He will never say this to us; but our watchful enemy may in some dark hour suggest such a thing to us ; and then how delightful to be able to refute such a suggestion, by the memory of all the intimate communion we have enjoyed with Jesus; to be able to appeal to this dearest friend himself, that so far from never having known him, we have known, desired, loved nothing else in comparison of him. Would that this were my case now ! But I feel as far away from Jesus, as if he were quite a stranger to my soul. My heart seems but to backslide ; and I cannot help continually thinking of that bitter complaint of Job's :*" 0 that I were as in' months past, as in the days when God preserved me ; when his candle shined upon my head, and when by his light I walked through darkness." Still I know that God " will heal .my backsliding, and love me freely ;" for though I am changed, " he changes not." But how strange it is, that our hearts should ever be so alien ated from God, after having once known how sweet it is to love him ! Surely the character of long-suffering, so often given to God in the Scripture, has never been manifested by any one in so many instances as to me. Let us not forget, dearest M — , to pray for one another, " that our hearts may be knit together in love, and unto all riches of the full assur- ' ance of understanding," that we may daily increase in the knowledge of him, whom to know is life eternal." The interesting tone of Christian simplicity which the fol lowing letter breathes, is worthy of remark. August 4, 1825. ' You will perhaps be surprised to receive a letter so soon after my last. But I feel this morning an irresistible wish to write to you, to which I was moved whilst praying for you ; and in the strength of Jesus I will speak to you only of hiln. Perhaps I shall to-day receive a letter from you : I shall be very glad, because I am so anxious to know.that you have devoted yourself in the fullest manner to him, who gave up his life for you. -My dear , I do. not know whether you are feeling with me ; but it is a cheering hope to me, that I, who have so often encouraged you in the greatest sin which a redeemed soul can commit ; that of indifference to the ser- MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 219 vice and love of the Redeemer may now be an instrument in his hands to animate you to very different feelings. We have given way to a very unfaithful spirit in our fears, and in our Tepugnance to speak in his name. Let us only believe, that when he grants us the inestimable privilege of carrying to any one the blessed news of his gospel; "it is not we that speak, but the Spirit of our Father which speak eth in us." This feeling that we are nothing, but that he is every thing in us, would give us a confidence full of joy, and at the same time without pride. It is indeed- the height of happiness to follow him like a little child, to live in Christ and out of ourselves. Oh ! had I but a constant sight of his love ! but he " is faithful, who will stablish us, and keep us from evil." Let us confide in him ; let us tell him that (we are not able to move a single step towards him, that we can not love him, nor believe in his name. His goodnegs will allure us, his power preserves us, his strength will be given us in exchange for our weakness, and we shall find an inde scribable delight in being able to do all in Christ.' To her cousin she writes in this affectionate and encour aging strain :— November 27, 1827. ' Let me tell you, my dear friend, how sincerely and affec tionately I sympathize with you in the feelings you express with regard to the most important of all subjects. My dear est cousin, go on seeking. There are pleasures, rivers of pleasures, whereof the true Christian drinks with unspeaka ble delight; and in his own time Jesus, the good Shepherd, will lead you to these fountains of living water. Already he, who "called his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out" from the world of sin, has called you by his own word, speaking to your soul. Do but be willing, as Levi, " to rise up, leave all, and follow him ;" and you will find that he will lead you in the pleasant and peaceful way. For .every vain pleasure thafr he calls upon you to give up, he will give a thousand solid and real pleasures, which it hath not entered into the worldling's heart to conceive.' The next letter, written to her cousin, marks the instnction, obligation, and encouragement . connected with the hour of " trouble," that time " to which man is born," and, when to the unhumbled and unsanctified mind, the resources of the world often aggravate suffering, instead of contributing sup port. March 20, 1825. ' Our meeting, my dear friend, must be deferred to a future time, if ever it takes place in this world. But there is another meeting, to which we may safely look forward, if we are the cflildren of God through Clirist Jesus ; and tbis will be in the presence of our best and dearest friend, who so loved us, • as to " purchase us with his own blood." How happy, how very happy it would make me, to know that my much-loved cousin was making it the grand object of her life to seek for salvation through the all-sufficient Saviour; and that we were united, not only by the strong ties of relationship and affection, but also by that bond of the Spirit, which makes all the redeemed people of Christ to be of one heart and one soul ! Let us pray for this one thing, to be devoted to the Lord Jesus; it is heaven begun on earth. The severe trial with which it has pleased our gracious God to afflict us, has given us an additional reason to write vanity upon all human hopes and expectations : and I hope I may say, that it has driven us to seek for comfort in those things which alone can give any real relief to a mind under the pressure of grief. Painful indeed it is to speak about any thing, which brings with it such, afflicting recollections. Yet I feel, that I cannot and must not leave it till I have entreated you, my beloved friend, to join me in seeking a "friend that sticketh closer than a brother," whom no length of time, or adverse circumstances ¦can take from us. Into his gracious ear we may pour all our complaints ; " in all our afflictions he will be afflicted." And one glimpse of his love will enable us to rejoice in the midst of tribulation. But there is one condition : " Give me thine heart." He must have all or none. A divided heart he will not accept. A heart that indulges in any one sin, that cleaves to any one worldly vanity, can never be the residence of his pure Spirit; he must have the whole heart; every thought, every faculty, every affection must centre in him. And who is able to perform this condition ? I am sure neither you nor I can ; for we are carnal, and " the carnal heart is enmity against God." Well then, my dear , let us simply be lieve on him to effect all this for us. Let us come to him as sinners ; for " His blood cleanseth from all sin." Let us come as wretched, and poor, and blind ; and he " will fill our minds with joy and peace in believing," will give us " gold tried in the fire, that we may be rich," and will cause his Spirit to shine into our dark hearts, " to give the light of the knowledge ofthe glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." True, we cannot love him of ourselves ; but he can compel even our hearts to love him. O may he reveal himself to your soul, and give you such discoveries of his amazing love, as may constrain you to make him your "all in all.1' In another letter on the same subject, we find her taking her chair by the side of her afflicted friend, and, like a true daughter of consolation, " comforting her with the same com fort, wherewith she herself had been comforted of God." January 18th, 1828. -"My very dear Friend, 'A letter from -informed me of the Very heavy trial you have sustained. I did not like imme'diately to intrude upon your feelings ; and since then, illness has prevented my writing. How lhave longed to be with you, and share your grief, though I am sensible of my inability to afford you any consolation. But I could at least have mingled my feelings with yours, and told you, what however you need not be told, that your losses and afflictions must ever be in a measure mine. My beloved friend, would that in partaking as I most sincerely do, of your sorrow, I could in any way lighten or alleviate it ! But I rejoice in the thought, that faith has uni ted you to one, who is the God of comfort ; and his Spirit is the Comforter. May he shed abundantly of his precious influ ence into your heart afrd your dear sister's at this trying time ! May he " lift up the light of his countenance upon you" both ! and that will turn your mourning into gladness. Perhaps this bereavement will lead you nearer to Jesus ; for we have an unfailing promise, that " all things shall work together for our good." " Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, even as a father the son in whom he delighteih: as many as I love, I re buke and chasten." And then how sweet to be assured, that " in all our afflictions he is afflicted," that in all our troubles he is near to help ; that in all our bereavements he is Teady to fill up with himself the painful dreary void, which is made in our hearts. My beloved friend, I do not say these things to you, " because you know them not, but rather because you know them," and are, I trust, at this time living upon them. How vain were it to speak to you of earthly comfort under the heavy loss you have sustained ! But this is the very time, when God's children often drink deepest of heavenly consolation ; and I trust it is thus with my precious friend. I know that our heavenly Father has afflicted you in very faithfulness ; and though for the present your chastisement must seem " grievous'.' indeed to you, yet hereafter it shall bring forth in you "the peaceable fruits of righteousness." In the mean time may you be taught to lay hold on the gra cious invitation to " call upon God in the time of trouble !" Make David's words your own — "From the end of the earth will 1 cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed ; lead me to the rock that is higher than I." " What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee." " My soul trusteth in thee, and in the shadow of thy wings will I make my refuge, until these calamities be overpast." " In the day of my trouble I will call upon thee ; fir thou wilt ansiver me." ' And may you, my dear friend, be able* to apply to yourself the words of our God — " Behold, I have refined thee, but not with silver : I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction." " I, even I, am he that comforteth you — as one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you." . " In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer." I would not obtrude my own words on you upon an occasion like this. But I may hope that the Spirit of truth will bless his words to your comfort ; so I fear not to tire you with the repetition, for they are always new — " O God, thou art my God." Here is a balm for every wound ; yes, he is your God. Wisdom and tenderness shall form the basis of all his dealings towards you ; and he, who is so wise and so tender, is engaged to do you nothing but good all the days of your life. I did not mean to have written so much, knowing that even the sympa thy of friendship may sometimes be an interruption to our own feelings. But I now leave off, begging you to accept the warmest affection of, &c.' How delightful is the confidence which Miss Graham here expresses in the support of the simple word of God in the hour of affliction ! Though her letter affords some of her own beautiful thoughts, yet her main effort is perceptible throughout ; not to strain her mind to force out something 220 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY. original or striking, but to bring forward the encouraging promises of Scripture, as far more powerful than the product of her own thought. This is honouring the word of God. The next letter relates personally to herself, and gives a lively description of her state of mind, with a happy transi tion from her own playful spirit, to a more serious and edifying strain. . April, 1827. 'I am sure that I am very old for my age. It is not com mon at twenty-four, to live upon the past as I do ; most peo ple would rather feed upon pleasant hopes of the future, but that is a thing I never do without trembling. It is not that I have the least doubt of every thing being ordered for my hap piness ; but I dread passing my life in this painful uncertainty, and I think this requires more faith than to pass it in the most severe affliction. Besides, I am afraid of living in a kind of tertian fever ; for either I am very hot or very cold. I am incapable of an equal temperament in any thing. A person who knows me this month, would not know me the next. I do not know myself ; God knows me; he knows all my weakness, all my vapity; however, all this does not cause him to forsake me. When I stray, he seeks me ; when I return, he receives me with tenderness; when I doubt, he assures me ; when I am unhappy, he consoles me. Surely he can give me strength, to devote myself wholly to him, and not to turn away again from his ways.' Another letter affords a beautiful illustration of her spirit uality of mind connected with the recollection of her literary pursuits. • Chudleigh, Sept. 1827. ' You are then at , where you lead a very pleasant life, but where you are not happy, because he who is your happi ness no longer cheers you with his presence. I also am very gay. I am here to my heart's content ; and I am not happy, because I cannot find my God — my beloved. I find that we " are the salt of the earth ;" but that this " salt has lost its savour, and is no longer good for any thing, but to be thrown away and trodden under foot of men." But the infinite com passion of Jesus will not suffer it to be so with us, and there fore he causes us to feel incessantly bitter- inquietudes, which will not suffer us to rest without returning to him. In the meantime we are both in a new place, which we shall per haps never see again. Shall we quit this place without leav ing there some savour of the name of Jesus Christ? It is delightful to be able to create recollections as exquisite as those awakened by the beautiful images of Petrarch and Tasso. But it is much more delightful to remember every place, where we have seen some soul eonverted to God ; this recollection will solace us at a time when all the delights of our Tasso will appear but a vain dream. I do not say'this, because I feel as I speak. I see it in my understanding, but it does not reach to my heart. However, I speak, because I desire to feel it, and that you should feel it too. I wish to love Tasso, and other studies, only for the love of God, and to give all to his service. But I love them too much for my self; and yet I do not think it would be right to give them up, since they may one day be of use to me.' We will now present a few letters, which will introduce us to a nearer view of the exercises of her own mind. She appears to have been deeply harassed, in common with the great Apostle, with that painful conflict, which his own in spired pen has so graphically described in Rom. vii. — a chap ter, which — though unintelligible to the world, and even to the merely external professors of the -gospel — unfolds more or less ofthe secret history of every Christian's heart. The following letter, of an early date, marks her mind exercised in the painful sense of her own deficiencies, while anxiously engaged in the pursuit of that knowledge, which was the basis of all that was valuable, both in her intellectual and spiritual character. June, 1823. ' No — I have not yet regained my peace of mind. It. is a guest which will not dwell in a soul so weak and vain as mine. I have again read a passage in Mason. But I find, that although self-knowledge is the most excellent "kind of wisdom a man can possess, yet there is a sort of self-know ledge, which only debases and hardens the soul ; and this is exactly the kind with which I am furnished. And whilst true self-knowledge introduces order and light into the soul, as when the sun enlightens the earth ; the self-knowledge which I possess rather resembles the lightning which shines for a moment, and shows all the desolation which the storm has produced, and which itself increases the desolation. To know oneself miserable, but not to be willing to use the means of being happy ; to know oneself a sinner, but to flee from and abandon the Saviour of sinners, has been a true de scription of my feelings." To her cousin she expresses some grounds of thankful recollection for Christians, who are called in " the days of their youth" to the service of their God and Saviour. My dearest , I seem to have so much to say to you, that I scarcely-know where to begin. I am not now afraid of indulging in a little effusion of my feelings to you, as they begin to sit less heavy upon my heart. I begin to feel a sort of assurance, that ;t will eje long be " with me as in months past, when the can dle of the Lord shined upon my head." Yet I cannot tell you that I enjoy any thing of really spiritual feeling. Oh! . that has been too long stifled to awake at once to anything like life and vigour.* Dear , letns be more careful than we have hitherto been, hot to quench the spark of Divine life in our hearts, not to. suffer the love of the world to enter where the Holy Spirit has deigned to erect a temple to Him self. I must tell you the thought which struck me yesterday, and roused me more effectually than any thing for some time past has done. It was a sense of the blessedness of being called in our youth to the knowledge of God, now that our feelings are fresh,' and our habits unformed ; before we have entered into the pleasures, company", and temptations of the world. It seems as though we had through the mercy of our Saviour, been turned into the broad path of destruction while yet upon the threshold — before we could have a long and weary way of sin to retrace. Are not these mercies, which call for our warmest gratitude? Shall I tell you another light, -which then struck me more forcibly than I had ever felt it before ? Is it not a blessing to have been enabled to enter decidedly upon a life of religion, before we had formed any connexion contrary to it? Now every thing seems open be fore us. The narrow path has been for us divested of half its difficulties; and great will be our sin and misery, if we walk not in it with a cheerful devoted resolve, that every future step may bg for his glory, who first led us into it.' The next letter displays the Jealous though exquisite en- •joyment of her sources of legitimate pleasure in the work of God. Hastings, July 1823. ' I am no longer sad, unless a pleasure too profound for laughter or gayety can be called sadness. There are times when I feel unhappy, because I am so happy — because I can derive such exquisite enjoyment from objects which pass away in a moment, whilst the things of eternal duration make only a light and free impression on my soul. I cannot how ever forbid myself from enjoying the delights, which here pre sent themselves every minute to my mind ; and you must pardon me if I fatigue you with many absurdities.' The following allusion to her early attainments cannot fail of interesting the reader. 'There are periods in the life of every person, which have respect only to the intellect, but which affect however all the rest ofthe life, and to which may be traced up almost all the intellectual qualities which that person possesses. It ap pears to me, that the period to which my mind recurs with the greatest pleasure is that, when I began to learn Milton as a simple act of memory. What alow and unworthy motive! However, when my soul began to open, to understand a little his noble ideas, so entire a change was made in my inclinations and taste, that I can hardly believe myself to be the same per son.' * The writer feels it right to notice this sentence as a subtle form of legality, very prevalent with young Christians, and not unknown to exercised Christians in a higher .stage of maturity. The chastise ment of the rod is indeed numbered among therich provisions of the Everlasting Covenant; and usually the Lord makes the backslidings of his children the instruments of his salutary correction. [Jer. ii. 19.] But let us never seem to dictate to him the mode of his disci pline, and especially let us not limit the absolute and unbounded freedom of the gospel, which opens the way of immediate and com plete acceptance to those who deserve a more protracted banishment from his favour. The expectation of an indefinitely distant return paralyzes the present effort ; while the freeness of mercy opens the door of instant hope for the most hopeless. [Isa. xliii. 23, 25,] and indeed produces the constraining motive to the first step-of penitence. [Ib. xliv. 22.] MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 221 The next letter gives a profitable application of Scripture, together with an interesting train of remark. rt June, 1823. ' One text of Scripture has lately dwelt much upon my mind^and seemed like a sentence of condemnation upon my worldly-mindedness and inconsistency. It is that short but expressive description of the conversion from sin—" And he rose up, and left all, and followed him." Oh! what a warn ing, and yet by me unheeded warning ! does it seem to rise arid shake off these fetters of sloth and inactivity— to leave all, even the dearest friends, the most deeply-rooted habits, which can come in the way of this grand end, and to follow Jesus through affliction and difficulties, in all the meek sim plicity and lowly dependence of a little child. May he give us strength thus to follow his loved footsteps !- May he en able us to walk hand in hand, mutually encouraging and sup porting each other, till we come to the presence of his gloTy, there to abide for ever ! I well know the feeling you mention with regard to another world. But when thinking of this, 1 am unfortunately apt to reverse it, and to consider the past as a painful dream, and the present something too disagreeable to be real ; while I look forward to future hopes and schemes, till the dreams of iny imagination assume the shape of de lightful realities : and in stretching forward to them, I for get, that it is only in the sober and continual routine of pre sent duties, that I can hope to attain those delightful expec tations.' Her seasons of prayer appear to have been, in comrnpn with'all Christians, times of severe conflict. The following extract, after alluding to the blots that too often deform the profession of tlie Gospel, alludes to this point : Torquay, Aprill2, 1825. ' How many ways there are of dishonouring the Christian profession ! some by ill humour ; we by coldness ; some by immoderate zeal ; others by the fear of man. Oh ! my dear friend, let us seek to ornament our profession ; let us seek in the unlimited compassion of our good Shepherd pardon for our past extreme lukewarmness, and Divine strength to shake off the drowsiness which oppresses us. Not only the prayers which I offer for myself, but those which I offer up for you, seem to be covered with acloud, through which they cannot penetrate. My prayers did I say ? I do not pray — I am frightened when I think of the state in which I am. If you are in a more spiritual frame, when at the feet ofthe Saviour, remember her who is gone so far away.' To another of her -correspondents she thus writes.- April 30*, 1827. ' I can hardly tell you what a strange state I am in — one minute longing after holiness so intensely, that I feel as if I should die if I did not get it : the next so full of vain thoughts, that I hardly know what real spiritual holiness is. I never had such clear views of the extreme depravity of my heart- and life. Every day I learn something new about my helpless ness, blindness, and dreadful wickedness. But though lean spread these things before God in prayer, I cannot mourn over them ; or if I do, it is from a sense of my misery — not from a view of him whom I have pierced. Well ! I know this hardness of heart is a part of the complaint under which I groan, and which will be removed by the great Physician. But I am sometimes confounded by the seemingly contrary answers I receive to prayer, though in the end I feel the dealings of God with me to have been wise and just. For instance ; after having prayed much for a sense of sin, I seem to have been left to the power of it. . I feel left to strive with a great enemy, who tramples me with the greatest ease under his feet. Let me not unjustly murmur against my dearest and wisest Saviour. For he leaves me not long at the mercy of my cruel adversary, but appears on my behalf often when I have the least expectation of it. One thing. distresses me very much. It is so strange. I have for some time past scarcely ever enjoyed a spiritual sabbath. J often enjoy a sabbath oh week days; but when Sunday comes (I mean the last three or four) all my spiritual feelings go ; religion seems the dullest thing in the world, and vain thoughts the pleasant- est ; I cannot tell you how the comfort of the day is destroyed. It was the case the whole of yesterday till quite night, when the accidental opening upon this little verse of f oplady's brought back the loveliness of Christ to my thoughts with such sweetness, and filled me with such longings after him, that for so-ne time I could not sleep : Less than thyself will not suffice, My comfort to restpre,; More than thyself I cannot crave, • And thou canst give no more. O to be "filled with all the fulness of God!" to have " Christ dwelling in our hearts by faith !" to be temples of the Holy Ghost ! To know that this is mine ; and yet for want of faith I so often make my heart as a cage of unclean birds. My dearest friend, I have chosen this 'verse for my portion, my treasure in this world and the next. I recom mend it to you-; and I know God will give it to us, and abun dantly fulfil our wishes above all that we can ask or think — Ezek. xliv. 28. What a glorious portion! Hard as my heart is, and blind as my eyes are, I see and feel a little of its excellency : but then so often -my soul forgets her joy, looks back upon the world, .and shrinks from the choice, which a few minutes before seemed so unutterably desirable.' At another time she writes in the same strain. May 15, 1827. 'I think I would give up every prospect of worldly happi ness that lhave, or ever can have, to have these vain thoughts crucified and nailed to the cross of Jesus ; and yet often, the more I want to be delivered from them, the more obstinately I cleave to them, and I am so tired of praying against them.' But the everlasting covenant fills me with hope arid comfort, " I will put my fear in their hearts, that they shall not depart from me. I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts." ' ¦ The next letter shortly afterwards is of a similar character. The spirit of tender carefulness that marks the closing al lusion is worthy of special remark : Stoke, June 2, 1827. ' I never wanted something to awaken and alarm me so much as I do now. I think I could be content to have some very great affliction, if it would but restore me to communion with God. I told yon how much vain thoughts had tempted and annoyed me. When I last wrote to you,! felt confident of being soon made "more than conqueror through him that loved me." But I have lately left off striving against them ; and now having turned " the house of prayer into a den of thieves," I know not how to cast them out again. Oh ! that Jesus himself would drive them from his temple, though it be with a scourge. With regard to , I feel it more and more my duty to send my letter. But what I have written has been given to me, and I am afraid to finish it, lest I should in my worldly and unbelieving frame, mix something of my own with it.' Yet her deep self-abasing apprehensions were not — except, possibly, at seasons of temptation — tinctured with desponden cy. From the tone of many of the preceding letters it is evi dent, that she knew the fulness of her resources in the pro mises ofthe Gospel: and in her prostrate humiliation of soul she did not cease to plead them to the uttermost of her war ranted expectations. Thus she writes to her friend : and I, and all took the sacrament yesterday. I never felt so much — " the remembrance of these our misdoings is grievous ; the burden, of them is intolerable." Is it not great and free love, which has made that a burden to us, which was once our delight ; and that intolerable, which we once drank up like water? But what puzzles and alarms me is, that it should be sometimes intolerable, and yet not forsaken ; and sometimes at the moment when I feel it to be intolerable, the struggle to give it up is more intolerable. The only thing that makes me feel a holy hatred of sin, is the thought, that, even when it seems sweetest to me, the eye of Jesus beholds it as an evil and a bitter thing ; and I shall soon look upon it as he does. It is " that abominable thing which he hates." It is that abominable thing which my wretched abominable heart loves. But then I do hate myself for loving it : and I do not know any thing I would not thank God for depriving me of, if it would tend to make me see sin as he does. I know this is the way you feel. Then let us take comfort in the thought that Jesus has done something for us, and to us who have (though so little) more will be given. " Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it ;" this often gives me comfort, (as indeed the whole of the eighty-first Psalm does:) butthen we can no more open our mouths than we can fill them. God must open them wide, and fill them too. I feel so much comfort in thinking that we cannot open our mouths too wide ; we cannot be too greedy of heavenly food, nor too grasping of heavenly riches. It is not presumption, but faith' and humil- 222 CHRISTIAN LIBRARY* ity, to expect that God for Christ'ssakewill fill our earthen vessels with an eminent measure of his heavenly treasures ; and the greatest eminence in Christian grace is to lose sight of self, to be willing to be least of all — to be nothing, and to look upon others as nothing, except as they are in Christ, and to look upon Christ as every thing. But oh, how far am I from this ! Yet I do not despair, I have had glimpses of it. I trust it shall one day be the settled temper of both of our souls. Pray for me, and pray that I may be enabled to pray for you.' The darkness and conflicts of her mind, were doubtless much increased by the active power of the enemy "operating upon her enervated health. It is delightful, however, to mark the cheering irradiations of sunshine breaking in upon her, as marked in the following letter. November 21, 1826. ' My beloved Friend, ' I can almost say in the words of Scripture which you love, that the winter of my soul is gone, and that the sweet season of the springing of flowers, and of the singing of the birds is come, and that the voice of the celestial dove makes itself heard. I again begin to know what it is to walk, " as seeing him, who is invisible." But do not suppose that I am in a very spiritual state. But the least ray of the light of his countenance appears immense, after so many weeks passed in darkness and rebellion. Oh ! my , let us exert every ef fort to find again the lover and the beloved of our souls. Who knows but his own time may come, in which he willfully re veal himself to us ? Let us pray for each other, that we may be wholly separated from the world and from ourselves, and more closely united to Jesus, in whose strength we shall be able to do all things. I cannot feel that deep repentance that I ought to feel for my repeated transgressions. But even in this I see the Divine love, because every strong emotion af fects my health.' Her views of the power of faith' in prayer were most enli vening. ' I never pray' said she one day to a dear friend ' without a promise.' On that promise she was enabled to rely with entire confidence. Referring to the fulness and power of the Apostle's prayer, Eph. i. 17, 18, and to that sublime doxology, chap. iii. 20, 21, she added, 'What a prayer was this .' How comprehensive ! How much are we encouraged to ask for! Why then do we receive so little, but because our hearts are not sufficiently enlarged ? We are wanting in faith. We do not expect enough from God. We are straitened in ourselves. We are not straitened in God. How much more should we receive, if we " continued instant in prayer," and " prayed without ceasing." We are lijje the king of Israel, who, when commanded by Elisha to sihite on the ground, provoked the wrath of the man of G od, by smiting only thrice j and then staying. Whereas, had he smitten five or six times, he would not only have gained a temporary advantage over his enemies, but would have utterly destroyed them. Thus in our prayers we are contented with small success.^ We do not continue enough in the exercise. Even when our hearts have been somewhat enlarged, we have been too ready to de sist, and rest satisfied without persevering, till we had received yet larger supplies of Divine grace.' To another friend she wrote in the same enlarged spirit of Christian expectancy : — May 15, 182*7. ' I see something of the love of Christ, which I would not lose for worlds. But neither do you or.l see half that may be seen of it even in this world, if we ask in faith. Only let us not be afraid of expecting too much. Let us stretch our prayers and expectations to the very uttermost of what " we can ask or think;" and as sure as God is truth, we shall re ceive " exceeding abundantly above all that we can ask or think." We shall receive all that Jesus can ask or think.' Her views-of Christian assurance, as set forth in the fol lowing letter, were clear and scriptural. July 4, 1827. ' My mind is in a state of declension and deadness to spir itual things, which is the more awful to me, from having en joyed much communion with God a few weeks ago. I know not how to describe this state better than by saying, that prayer seems to be my burden ; and evil thoughts my element ; and that, instead of maintaining a continued conflict against this inclination, I feel a kind of obstinate hardened disposi tion in my mind, leading me to yield rather to Satan than to God. But even during all this time, my evidence of being a child of God, though not brought with any realizing sweet ness to my heart, yet remains quite cl^ar and unclouded to my understanding. But my evidence is this — not that I am now in a spiritual frame of mind (though that woultl be a delightful confirmation of it) — but thaW-let my state be*what it will, — still I cannot forget, that I have cast myself a thou sand and a thousand times upon the mercy of God in Christ Jesus. 1 have committed my soul to him ; and, though I am unfaithful and unbelieving, yet I know that he abideth ever faithful, to keep that which has once been committed to him. Besides" — I have told him again and again — and tliat with ago nizing earnestness, — what a weak .backsliding heart I have entrusted to his care ; and that, if he does not hold me up, I shall fall. And now can I think that he has forgotten all my - prayer for keeping, and all his promises of keeping me, and that he means to let me fall for ever ? Oh ! I cannot think so. I cling to my assurance, and cannot but think, that as Christ — and Christ alone — is the foundation'of it, it must he well-founded. I miist think (I would say it with reverence) that God would cease to be " a faithful Creator," if he could five up a soul that has been so often confined to his keeping. here is one verse, that in the darkest and coldest seasons comes with comfort to my mind. I know that I have often asked my Heavenly Father for bread. Shall I think he has §iven me a stone ?' I have asked him for the Spirit of truth. hall 1 think he has put me off with the spirit of delusion? This letter illustrates the true character of Christian con fidence, as exclusively based upon the word of God. It is independent of external excitement. It is the reliance of faith urfon the immutable engagements of Divine faithfulness. Much that passes under this name is the assurance of feeling, rather than of faith. The consolations of the gospel are be lieved, not because they are declared, but because they are felt. Hence, when the comfort is lost, the ground of confidence is destroyed. This, however, is an inversion of the Scriptural rule — walking by sight, not by faith — unlike a tried saint of old, who, when " walking in darkness, and having no light," had learnt to " stay himself upon his God" — " Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." Any encouragement however to be drawn from a past opera tion of faith must be carefully connected with its present ex ercise. Its first effort indeed linked the Christian's heart in in dissoluble union with his Saviour. Yet the principle must not be confined to a single act, by which at some former time he came to Christ. It is rather the continued habit of the soul, by which he is "coming" to Christ in constant motion. In Miss Graham's case, the earnestness and intensity of her mind clearly marked the active though unconscious influence of the habit of faith, even while her recollection was fixed — perhaps too exclusively — upon some former and determinate exercise. But was Miss Graham warranted in her strong assurance, in a state of conscious- and acknowledged backsliding ? When we consider the character of her religion — self-sus picious, jealous of declension, earnestly longing for communion with God, content with no ordinary measure of conformity to the Divine image, we shall not be disposed to accuse her of presumption, or of a loose and careless profession. Hers was not a paralyzing security — a self-indulgent repose — but an habitual quickness of spiritual discernment, and dutiful watch fulness. It was probably her intense solicitude for higher conformity to her Lord, that induced her, like holy Bradford, to pass this severe judgment upon herself, in the deep con sciousness of her infinite distance from the ultimate point of attainment, and her sometimes apparent contrariety to it, Iniquity felt and iniquity allowed, are essentially different. When allowed, the soul is benumbed and blinded in compar ative unconsciousness. When hated, the sensibility of its defilements is so keen, and the apprehensions of its guilt so afflicting, that even in a state of conscious acceptance, the soul is constrained to "write bitter things" against itself. The prostrate humiliating confessions of that holy saint of the Reformation just alluded to, in no degree hindered the peaceful rest of his soul upon the engagements of the faith fulness and love of his God. We could not indeed but strongly discountenance an assur ed confidence in. a state of open sin, or in any habitually al lowed inconsistency with a Christian profession. Yet we are persuaded that a personal assurance has often proved the only chain of love that has restrained the backslider from total apostacy — from saying — " There is no hope — for I have loved strangers, and after them will J. go." Often too has it been the appointed means of conviction and recovery from backsliding. A realized- sense of a Father's love iri the ten- MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 223 derness and wisdom of merited' chastening has pierced many a rebellious child with contrite sorrow, and has brought him back to his Father's feet with simplicity, gratitude and con fidence. He is humbled and encouraged under the most dis tressing Consciousness of backsliding by the remembrance, that the principle and warrant of assurance is not in himself, and that his ground of confidence is unchangeably the same. ' I see,' said Miss Graham on one occasion, ' that God is my God in covenant. He is unchangeable, though I continually vary.' The duty and importance of an elevated enjoyment of scriptural privilege, are delightfully inculcated in the follow ing- letter. .' What a privilege (she observes, speaking of a blessed saint now in heaven), has Mrs. to be walking so closely with God, and enjoying so much of his presence ! " Oh ! that I" thus always " knew where I might find him, that I might come even to his seat!"' But I never had so tittle of his presence as now, and if it sometimes returns for a moment, the emotions of, my mind seem almost more than I cap bear, so that I dread, even while I long for, their recurrence. The true remedy for all this would be, tbat settled quiet peace, which is the effect ofthe righteousness of Christ. But this I want faith to lay hold of as my owii. I have been surprised lately at the slighting and almost suspicion, with which friends appear to look upon spiritual peace and joy, as if it were rather a snare to be guarded against, than a privilege to be sought after. Yet surely — " Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say, rejoice," is as much a commaridas — " Thou shalt not kill — Thou shalt not steal." And I know nothing except this "joy of the Lord," which is said to be "our strength," that can ao Jill the heart, as to leave no room for rejoicing in self or in the world. And do you not think, that the more of this holy joy is " shed abroad in the heart," the more godly sorrow will dwell there ? At least I find it to be so. They seem to me to be inseparable companions in onr experience on earth. Were I to mention the sweetest ingre dient in the cup of joy or sorrow (I scarcely know which to call it), that we are permitted to taste of here ; it would be the melting of the heart, which springs from that immeasura ble unworthiness, which gives us some faint conception how low Christ has stooped to save us ! Why then should it be thought presumptuous to desire an abundant measure of the very thing which we are commanded to have ? Why should this desire for " the peace of God which passeth all under standing," be construed into a dependence "upon frames and feelings ? 'Sometimes I think we might have almost as much joy as there is in heaven, if we had but a holy boldness to ask for it, and to receive. We are not straitened iii Christ ; " but we are straitened in our own bowels;" so that, because joy is an undeserved guest in a heart defiled by sin, we dare not receive it as a lawful guest, though this heart has been cleansed with the blood of Jesus. But' what will it be, my dearest friend, to open our eyes upon that world, where "per fect love casteth out fear" for ever! I try to conceive it sometimes, but I cannot. There is nothing I find so difficult, as to imagine entire deliverance from the spirit of bondage. What'will it be, to be "face to face" with Christ; to "see him as he is;" to "see the King in his beauty," in "His own glory, in his Father's glory ;" and yet to look upon him without fear .' We had need have these earthly tabernacles taken down first; as they never could sustain it. And yet this is that death, at which even renewed human nature Shrinks; though, if we could view it aright, it is but the shutting out of fear, and the letting in of perfect love /or ever.' It is indeed to be feared, as Miss Graham has observed, that there is a class of professors among us, who depreciate the glowing exercises of Christian feeling. Their religion is rather of an intellectual, than of a spiritual character. They reason, explain, demonstratq, vindicate. But they are cau tious of extremes. They realise the seriousness, importance, and restraints of the gospel, rather than its high privileges and constraining obligations. The exercise of their judg ments, from this defect of a deep influence of spiritual reli gion, materially checks the healthful and animating glow of their affections. Their views of the fundamental doctrines are generally orthodox, and they maintain a correct external deportment. But they appear to have a scanty enjoyment of that new-created taste and element of pleasure, which is con nected with the revelation of the glory of God to the soul. They seem to be little conversant with the varied exercises of a devotional habit of mind— such as holy delight in com munion with God; lively contemplation of the Saviour, spir" itual meditation and enjoyment of the sacred 'word, and heavenly aspiration of soul. Their ordinary Cbristian con versation is restrained from that intimate and free communi cation of spiritual sympathies, which infuses mutual warmth, refreshment, and energy in the endeavour, like Jonathan and . David, "to strengthen each other's hands in God;" to unite in a closer intercourse with our Divine Saviour, and to invig orate our purposes of consecration to his service. Such persons seem'too little to consider the strong and im portant connexion of religion with the affections. But it is only their lively and powerful exercise that is at all propor tioned to the vast expanse and grandeur of the subject. We find, therefore, religion in heaven, where it exists in the most refined purity and perfection, is much engaged in the delight ful affections of joy and love, and in the fervent expressions of these feelings in everlasting praise. The scriptural exhi-» bition of religion in the records ofthe most eminent servants of God, and in the rich display of the promises of Christ, is of the same glowing character. The religion of the " man after God's heart" was a religion of the affections. Every natural affection of his soul was filled with God. In his book of Psalms, written With the pen of inspiration for the .public use of the church, we behold him — not describing the proper individualities of his own ex perience ; but leading the worship of the universal church in the expression of deep humiliation, holy admiration, fervent love and joy in his God, earnest rhirstings and pantings for his presence, delight in his ordinances, devout acknowledg ments' for his unbounded mercy; and exulting triumph in his faithful love. The book of Canticles also — however we may refrain from a minute consideration of some of its imagery — exhibits those vigorous exercises of spiritual affections, which are consonant to the experience of the lively Christian, and which excite in him no common measure of admiring, trust ing, and grateful love to his Divine Saviour. The corres ponding New Testament development of Christian privilege embraces those high and heavenly blessings, which draw out the affections of the soul into exciting employment — such as " peace with God," constant "access" to his presence and favour; rejoicing in hope of his glory; glorying in tribula tions, as the path-way thither ; " the loveof God, Shed abroad in the heart; and the enjoyment of God through our Lord Jesus "Christ ;" all of which are presented to us in a single view, as our present portion and source of happiness. If therefore we acknowledge the gospel in its faith and ob ligations, while defectively apprehending and estimating its privileges. — if our judgment has been informed and establish ed without " and see if polite ness itself can suppress a smile at your strange and unwarrant able impertinence, in forcing the attention of the company to subjects, which they are met for the very purpose of forgetting. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 225 No, my dear friend, that cannot be a proper place for a Chris tian, where religion is the thing that must not be named; and where even something in "our hearts will tell us, that such subjects are out of place. Neither can you say, your own heart may be as well employed there as elsewhere ; for the very sweetest meditation on heavenly things (if we could thus meditate in the midst of vanity) would be spoiled by the thought, that there were none who enjoyed like communion with ourselves ; and we should soon have to " seek with Joseph a place to weep in," to weep over our companions and friends, who are thus " feeding on ashes," delighting themselves in things which cannot profit. The fact is, when Christians are at a place of worldly amusement (if Christians are to be found who will venture themselves so unguardedly into Satan's strong places,) they must either have heavenly thoughts (and then the amusement would appear so vapid, disgusting, and uninteresting, that they would never be able to stay it out :) or else, if the amusement is an amuse ment to them, it fills their hearts with a crowd of vain thoughts, shuts out Christ, and lets in self and the world, and so prepares room for doubts, and fears, and much bitter repent ance, before the Spirit wili again shine upon a heart which has so wantonly despised his grace. But many will say — ' All this may take place if we stay at home ;' our worldly hearts may let in many intruders there ; and we may be compelled to own, that we should have been as well at any place of public resort, as in our own room, with no one to talk to but our own heart. This, I confess, is our shame and misery, that we are so often entangled in vain and worldly thoughts. But surely it does but make the argu ment stronger against indulging in any thing which tends to foment such thoughts. If we are so weak, why go into temptation, against which the strongest have not been able to stand ? We may fall into a worldly frame of mind in the absence of any worldly pleasures ; but, because we have got a cruel enemy within, shall we go and expose ourselves to the attacks of the enemy without ? Let us at least have the comfort of not having gone in quest of our misery. Tempta tions enough will come to us ; let us not go to them. Besides it seems to me but mocking our Father which is in heaven, to say one hour — " Lead us not into temptation" — when we have coolly made up our mind to rush into it the next. From the evil of such a temptation, can we hope that he will deli ver us ? Let me draw your attention to the sweet precept of onr Lord — " Let your loins be girded about, and your lights burning ; and ye yourselves like unto men that wait for their Lord, when he will return from the wedding; that when he cometh and knocketh, they may open to him immediately !" Now, dear , I am sure you would not choose, that your Lord should come for you, while engaged in worldly amuse ments ; nor would you feel, that he found you watching ; nor would you be ready to " open immediately ;" but would rather ask time to collect your scattered thoughts, and trim your wasted lamp. If we were to ask the blessed in heaven, or the tormented in hell, what they think of such employments, would not the one smile with pity at the question, and the other exclaim with rage — ' 0 that I had but one of those hours you are thus throwing away ! You should see whether I would let the precious moments pass in such vanities as these !' Forgive me, if I have said too much. Indeed I should tremble for you, going into such a difficult situation, if I did not know, that God can take as much care of you Jas in a more retired place. lo earnestly desire, that the blessing of a single eye and ided heart may be yours. There is no comfort in being idecided Christian; and Christ himself has declared - mai such a character is hateful to him. But this will not be the case with you : He who has helped you thus far, will go on leading you by the hand, till he has brought you to glory. You ask me — ' How we are to wean our hearts from the world ?' I know no other answer, but that which the Scrip ture gives. A believing view of Jesus must make the world look dark and insignificant : and whenever we begin to love it too much, we have only to- apply to him, who has said to us — "Be of. good cheer; lhave overcome the world;" and his mighty power shall be put forth to enable us to overcome it also. I used to make many resolutions against a worldly spirit, and try many ways to break myself of it; and these resolutions were repeatedly broken ; but now I have but one way ; I try to take my heart to Jesus, believing that the vic tory is already mine for his sake. ' Lord, thou hast promised that " sin shall not have dominion over me." Thou hast -said, that every one that is " born of thee overcometh the world." Fulfil thy gracious promise, and make me " more Vol. II. — 3 D than conqueror" in thy might! Thou hast "given thyself for my sins, that thou mightest deliver me from this present world ;" and wilt thou now leave me to be taken captive by this evil world ? O dear , the faithful God must become like unto lying, promise-breaking man, before he can refuse to help his servants, who thus cast themselves on his word of promise; and disclaim all wisdom, strength, and goodness but his. The world and the things of the world, as " a strong man armed, who keepeth his goods in peace," must continue ' to have possession of our hearts, till Christ, who is " stronger than" the world, break in, and claims the house of the strong man, as a mansion for his Spirit to dwell in. Cast yourself then without fear upon the free mercy of God in Christ Jesus. The more worldly and wicked you feel yourself to be, the more he is concerned to show his power and faithfulness in saving you from your worldliness and wickedness.' The next letter upon the same subject was written shortly afterwards to another correspondent, whom she regarded with the most lively affection, as having been made instrumental in communicating to her soul the knowledge and love of her Saviour. March 22, 1827. ' You must, I think, have misunderstood my meaning about worldly company and amusements. Let us but have a right motive for doing so, and I think we may safely go into any company whatever. The word of God affords us two valu able rules for all our actions, and if we could set them always before our eyes, I believe we should seldom be at a loss as to the conduct we ought to pursue. "Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God. And — whatsoever ye do in word or deed,