ness under which Christians suffer, many times, need to be better understood than they are. Baxter, Thomas Hooker, Rogers, and a few others, have written some upon it; but a book is wanted which shall cast still more light upon the subject.

It cannot be doubted that this state of mind sometimes arises from causes which are uncontrolable; and in such cases it is a pure calamity, just as much as visitation by a bodily disease would be. Baxter has a remark somewhere like this, in reference to persons in such a state, that "they need the prescriptions of a physician, before they can derive much benefit from the counsels of a minister." We have seen such,-even "refusing to be comforted;" and to persuade away their doubts and gloom was like endeavoring to persuade away the moody melancholy of a deranged man. A singular dexterity is also sometimes acquired by such persons, in explaining how feelings, apparently indicating the presence of grace in the heart, might have arisen in some other way than in the exercise of grace. And we never have seen this peculiar and soul-torturing dexterity exercised more powerfully, and to more affecting purpose, than at one period of his life, by Mr. Wilcox himself.

On the other hand, it is undoubtedly true that in a far greater number of instances, deep depression and destitution of religious enjoyment arise from causes in which the conscience is concerned; and should lead the subject of them to very close self-examination and humility before God. And we apprehend that in such an examination, many of this class of persons will discover, among other things, that in doubting of their own piety, and talking of their doubts to others, they have had some very subtle and sinful operations of self-complacency going forward in the secret chambers of their hearts; that they have even argued against themselves, to other Christians, at some times, for the sake of the gratification of listening to arguments in their favor.

We speak of causes in which the conscience is concerned. Neglect of some known Christian duties; the formal and profitless performance of others; engagement in some soulabsorbing pursuit, which interferes with living near to God; intimacy and intercourse with society the spirit of which is secular, perhaps fashionable and averse to religious things; and other similar causes we might name, make it a matter of course, that sinful presumption or painful perplexity will mark the exercises of the mind and heart. Our own experience on this subject, so far as it has extended, together with the acquaintance we have had with some,—we trust, real Christians -engaged with great interest in the pursuits of science, lit

erature, or taste, convinces us, that the life, power, and comforts of religion are as often and as effectually hindered, in such pursuits, as in those of honor, gain, or pleasure. The case of the devoted Martyn was perhaps an exception,-and a very happy one-to this remark. But as a usual fact, how few professing Christians, comparatively, who are eminent in learning and the learned professions, seem to be prosperous and happy Christians. We are aware that we have touched upon a delicate point here; but we deem it a serious one, demanding close and anxious consideration, and much watchfulness and prayer.

The ninth Sermon presents, in the introduction, an example of the advantage of bringing together scripture conversation.

The service enjoined by the scribes and Pharisces, is here represented as a miserable bondage, while that of Christ is a happy freedom; and the text is an affectionate and earnest invitation, to leave their service for

his, on account of this difference. "Go not after them," says the compassionate Redeemer, according to the full import of this invitation," Go not after them, for they bind heavy burdens, and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men's shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers"-" but come unto me all ye that labor, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest; take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart and ye shall find rest unto your souls; for my yoke is easy and my burden is light." p. 337.

We conceive it a prime qualification in a preacher to know how to use Scripture; not in the way of dull and accumulated quotation, but so as to cast light upon the subject in hand; to show the richness of the Bible in its instructions on every point of doctrine and duty; and without any far-fetched interpretations. to produce in the hearer the feeling that he never before understood the text so well, or knew so much of the testimony of the Scriptures, on the subject in hand. Mr. Wilcox manifestly studied his Bible much, and attentively. His use of Scripture is the result of inquiry for the plain, natural meaning of its language, and is uniformly apposite and impressive.

The closing scene of the Christian's life is beautifully delineated in the following passages.

What on earth can compare with the peace of the Christian, when with the world receding from his view and heaven opening before him, he breathes out his spirit in aspirations of confiding love into the arms of his almighty Redeemer, and in the full uninterrupted light of his countenance. Like the peace of all nature after a storm,-when the winds are hushed, and the woods and waves are still, and the clouds are gone, and the sun shines down from a serene sky upon a serene world,-such is the rest of the Christian after this tumultuous life is over. When a shipwrecked mariner is rescued from a watery grave by some kind friend, how sweet is the

rest that he enjoys as he leans on his deliverer, and locks from the shore over the wide waste, an 1 feels firm ground under him, while he hears the billows roar, and sees them dash at his feet in vain,-such is the rest that the believer enjoys as he leans on his almighty Saviour, and from the verge of eternity looks back over this tempestuous world. But the chief rest of the Christian is in the midst of the paradise that is above. There it is consummated-perfect in nature, everlasting in duration. pp.348, 349.

The tenth discourse would make another valuable tract. It gives a serious and instructive discussion of a subject, often trying to the feelings of a faithful minister, in attending upon the sick and dying. The willingness of many to die, springing "from the influence of disease; from philosophic pride; from the melancholy of worldly disappointment; from the unwarranted consolation of friends; from spiritual stupidity; and from religious error;" is justly described; and the author manifests an intimate acquaintance with the workings of the human heart, and the various forms of self-deception on this subject, which men practise. We cannot forbear quoting the first reflection entire; and commending it to the special consideration of those who seem to expect ministers and private Christians to tell them that their departed friends are in heaven,―on the sole fact, asserted in such vague and doubtful terms, that "they were resigned," or "willing to die."

Great caution is necessary in speaking of the evidences of preparation for death. If through the influence of sympathy for the bereaved, or from any other cause, we allow ourselves to speak of any thing as an evidence of such preparation, when the gospel decides that it is not, we may do much towards deceiving our fellow men to their ruin; and we ourselves by this practice may at length be deceived in like manner. It is a practice which sets up a wrong standard, for men to judge themselves by; and removes the right one out of sight. It puts darkness for light, and light for darkness. It tends to make men live at ease in sin, with the expectation that charity will find something in the circumstances of their death, on which to build a hope of their happiness. It makes them forget the necessity of repentance and faith, by showing them how easily the want of these in the dying hour can be overlooked. When the opinion is circulated, that this man and that have made a happy exchange of worlds, merely because they were willing to die, or on any other unscriptural ground, many are more ready to receive wrong impressions, than they are to receive right ones from the reading and the preaching of the gospel. It may be asked, if we can have the cruelty to tell the mourning, that their departed friend gave little or no evidence of being prepared to leave the world. No-we cannot. And it can hardly ever be our duty to do it. But, on the contrary, it cannot be our duty to tell the mourning, that their departed friend gave evidence of being fitted for heaven, when he did not. It is far better to be silent on this subject, in their presence, than to speak only to deceive them. We had better say nothing, than to say that which will not bear the test of God's word. We cannot be too careful on all occasions, to produce or to deepen the impression, that men give evidence of preparation for death, just so far as they give evidence of having renounced their

sins, and put their trust in Christ, and no further. Show me proof of a man's penitence and faith and the gospel bids me hope for him, and comfort his friends with this hope. But tell me merely of a man's willingness to die; and the gospel bids me say nothing, till I have inquried for the reason of this willingness. If it be that given in the text, or one like holiness, there is scriptural ground for strong hope and rich consolation. pp. 363, 364.

To those who are calculating on a death-bed preparation for heaven, we would specially recommend an attentive reading of the concluding reflection of this discourse.

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The true preparation for death is one that is to be made in life. Preparation for any event is something to be done previous to the event itself. It is absurd to talk of a man's preparing for death when he is actually dying. There is not the least proof from the Bible, or in the nature of things, that the event, which dissolves the union between the soul and the body, produces a radical change in the moral character. What is there, what can there be, in the passage through the dark valley, to take the affections at once from objects, on which they have been fixed for years, and fix them on objects as different from these, as heaven is from earth? Can it be believed that the man, whose last accents in this world are," Gold, thou art my portion," will be prepared to say the moment after, as he awakes in eternity, "Whom have I in heaven, O God, but thee?" Will the man whose supreme object in life has been, to lay up treasures on the earth, find himself, the moment after death, in full possession of that inheritance which is incorruptible and undefiled, and which fadeth not away? Will the man, who has drunk, all his days, and drunk deep, at the polluted stream of this world's pleasure, be prepared as soon as he dies, to drink of that pure river of bliss, flowing from the throne of God and the Lamb? Will the man who, during all his mortal life, has loved the praise of men more than the praise of God, find himself the moment after death standing and bowing with the adoring hosts of heaven, and ready to cast down his crown with theirs, and take up their song of "Blessing and honor and glory and power unto Him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb that was slain?" In short, my hearers, will they that are unjust through life and in death, be righteous afterwards? Or will they be unjust still? Will the filthy here be holy hereafter? Or will they be filthy still? Let the word of God decide. pp. 365, 366.

The eleventh Sermon, we should suppose, and from some circumstances we presume, was written under the impression of the sublime and awful scenes described by the author, (pp. 75, 76) as witnessed by himself, among the White Mountains, August 28, 1826. The sermon will be read with more interest in connection with the letter referred to. We make a single extract from the sermon.

Were our path through life always over firm and smooth ground, covered with flowers, we should dance along in the giddiness of present pleasure, and lose sight of the eternity at the end. We should forget that we are pilgrims and strangers, having here no continuing city, but passing quickly through this wilderness to another country. Were there no thorns on our pillow, we should sleep life away, without any labor for rest beyond

the grave. God disturbs our peace here, to draw our thoughts and desires to eternal peace hereafter. He breaks our plans for earthly happiness, to fit us for the perfect happiness of heaven. He follows us with disappointment after disappointment, from one year to another, to wean our affections from things below, and fix them on things above. While in this sublunary vale we build and rebuild upon the sand, he throws down again and again, to lift our thoughts to the skies, there to build on everlasting rock. Often does he make the earth appear to us like a desert, that our eyes may be raised with delight to the glories of heaven, as on the barren plains and mountains of Arabia the wayworn pilgrim looks above the desolate earth, and gazes with solemn, silent rapture on the lights of the firmament. p. 379.

The twelfth discourse is one of the best in the volume, and one of the most practical discourses on faith with which we have ever been acquainted. The subject is an extensive one, and the discourse is rather an outline of it, than a full discussion; but still it is an outline divested of the dryness of statement; and adapted to instruct, quicken, and encourage the sincere and humble believer.

The thirteenth is a discriminating discussion of a subject on which unconverted persons, generally, deceive themselves very deeply. After an ingenious and conscience-stirring exhibition of the truth of the case, with those who "forget God," the author brings all to bear, with peculiar force, upon the class of persons described, in the concluding address. We cannot quote it.

The concluding discourse is appropriate to its place in the volume, as carrying the reader forward to the scenes of the heavenly state. The object of raising the Christian above the world, and stimulating him to greater activity in the duties of holiness, by the discussion of such subjects as this, is one which should be sought, more than we apprehend it is, by many preachers. This was one secret of the exalted and heavenly minded piety of Baxter. The satisfaction of lively hope will aid the increase of the Christian in holiness, as well as the impressions produced by truths and duties which have their more direct application to the conscience. The concluding remarks on "the glorious destiny of the children of God in eternity," are impressive and beautiful.

Following them in thought beyond the bounds of earth and time, and far along the ages of their immortal state, we behold them tracing with an angel's pen the characters of truth stamped on every part of the great volume of the universe; and while eternity pours in its light from every quarter we behold them rising higher and higher in the knowledge of God, as well as advancing from one degree of grace to another, and from glory to glory. For the sake of illustration, let us suppose that one of the patriarchs of the infant world, after having received a revealed account of the recent birth of time and the creation of the heavens and earth, and after having obtained all the knowedge within the reach of the wisest and best of men of his