certain, that all the Manichæans denied the genuineness of the New Testament; and the objection may be therefore the opinion of one discontented individual; who held opinions directly hostile to the doctrines of the New Testament. 2. They are the objections of a stranger, unacquainted with the Greek language, or Greek literature, and therefore destitute of the right kind of knowledge to form a correct opinion. Suppose a learned and sensible East Indian philosopher, should come into England, and deny the genuineness of Hume's History of England; the objection would be entitled to as much weight as that of the Manichæan. 3. It was the constant practice of these Manichæans to reject all books, philosophical as well as religious, which did not harmonize with their peculiar opinions. to 4. The reasons themselves, on which he rejected them, are entitled very little weight. For instance, he rejected Matthew, because he uses the third person, when he speaks of himself; an objection which he might have urged with as much plausibility against the genuineness of Caesar's Commentaries, and almost all the Greek writers. It is certain, however, from these objections, that the New Testament was at this time generally known, and received as canonical.* I shall conclude by observing, that if I have succeeded in proving the New Testament to be genuine, it affords an unanswerable argument for the truth of our religion. If Paul really wrote the epistles, which have been ascribed to him, to the churches to which they are directed, it is impossible to suppose that he was an impostor. He frequently appeals to miracles wrought in their presence; to gifts of the Holy Spirit, which had been conferred through him; and to miraculous facts of frequent occurrence, in * Marsh's Michaelis. which these persons could not have been deceived. And can we suppose that a people, such as were the Corinthians or Thessalonians, or indeed any other people in the world, would have received these epistles, as authoritative, unless these miracles had really been performed? And can we suppose that any man would appeal to credentials of his divine mission, as an unanswerable argument for the infallibility of his doctrines, which never had an existence, and which must have been known to have been palpably false ? Again: if these books were written at the time we have supposed, the facts recorded in the gospels are true. They contain express prophecies, of events which no human foresight or sagacity could have predicted. The destruction of Jerusalem, at the time in which the prophecy was delivered, was an event in itself, as improbable as the destruction of Rome itself. Jerusalem was under the government of the Romans; the disaffection of the Jews had not arisen to such a pitch as to afford any prospect of rebellion; much less to such an one, as should lead to the subversion of the nation, and the destruction of their temple and city. Besides, the particular events which led, at this particular time, to the war, were so trifling and unimportant in themselves, and so unlikely to happen, as to render it utterly impossible for any political sagacity to foresee them; and to evince at the same time, that the person, who could so accurately predict them, had a wisdom and knowledge, more exalted than ever distinguished the cabinets of statesmen. The same arguments, therefore, which establish the genuineness of the New Testament, prove also the authenticity of the facts recorded in it, and the divinity of its doctrines; and we call upon the infidel either to disprove their genuineness, or to adopt them, and to regulate his life by the doctrines which they inculcate. A.. B. Miscellaneous. THIRD LETTER FROM PURITAN FARM. Mr. Editor;-Before taking up again the thread of my story where it broke off; I have to inform you, that at length our wife approves of my letters, save and except what they contain about herself. "It would both encourage and assist," she says, "in rescuing from oblivion your father's shrewd remarks, if you would suppress my observations, or, at least, keep out my name." But I tell her, in answer to this, that I might as well take the share from my plough, or the teeth from the harrow; for without her remarks, my letters would be mere "fallow ground," neither useful nor ornamental. "However, write yourself," say I, "and the moment you begin I will give up; an exchange which the editors may congratulate themselves upon." This she declines at present, and is pleased to say, that I have so much of my father's character about me, and a style which does some justice to his ingenuity, that specimens of his domestic catechising will come with more effect from my pen than from hers. Thus the matter stands at present; and between you and I, it is likely that she will become a correspondent ere long. And then-but I forbear. When my father had finished his remarks about Satan, he proceeded to ask the lads some simple questions concerning the love of Christ and its practical influence. They were then dismissed to look after the cattle until prayer time: Thomas only being allowed to remain during the following conversation held with us. "Children; I can speak more freely now that the lads are gone out. I do not wish to give them an idea of the person and work of Christ being subjects of dispute; but among you, I must try to meet the objections which you have heard. Thomas, what was it the new minister's sister puzzled you with about Christ being the VOL. I.-Ch. Adv. Son of David?" "Why, measter, she 66 Mary, my love, what were the two principal charges brought by the Jews against the Saviour? Think, now; there are two in particular." "And very unlike, papa: they charged him as having a devil; and as making himself equal with God." "Right; 2 Y well, my love, did Jesus deny both of these charges?" "No, papa, not both, but the first only. He refuted at once the charge of having a devil." 'Well, John, why would he not rest under this imputation?" "No good man would, sir, who could clear himself: Jesus owed it to his own character to reject the title 'Beelzebub;' and if he had put up with it in silence, his conduct would have confirmed the Jews in their opinion." "Right; and when they understood him to claim equality with God, did he not as much owe it to his own character to correct their mistake (if it was one) on this point?" "Yes, sir, a good man would no more connive at his being thought equal with God, than with the devil; but would feel himself as much bound to explain in the one case as in the other." "Right, right; we shall crack this nut bye and bye.-Thomas, you have to go to the corn-market this week, and to manage the sales; now suppose, one of the corn-Jews should mistake you for me, and call you by name, and treat you as he would me; in that case, (which is not unlikely when your best clothes are on,) would you wink at the mistake, and answer to my name?" "That I wuldn't, measter, but set him reeght at once, by saying as how I wur a sarvant only. But I sees where all this leads, the Saviour is either equal with God, or not equal with an honest man; for even I wuld'nt say nothing that might give a wrongous notion of mysell." "I believe you, Thomas; you would not: and thus it is that Socinians have no alternative but either to admit the equality of the Son with the Father; or to stab the moral character of Christ at the very core.But, Thomas, I observed the other day, when you were ploughing, that you stopped half way down the furrow, and seemed lost in thought. I I do not mention this as finding fault, but I should be glad to know what you were thinking of so earnestly at the time. I know you have been much exercised of late by the disputes in the old chapel." "Why, measter, my thoughts are none of the brightest on no points; but during this fiery trial,' they do me good: and on that morning I wur thinking on that sweet promise, of Father and Son coming both to take up abode' with any man that loved the Saviour; and all at once it rushed through my heart, that a human Son could not come thus way with a divine Father; he mun have the same natur before he could manifest himself in the same way to believers. I got such a grip of this, that I lost hold of the plough for a moment. But there wur no damage done to the horses nor the harness, that you may rely.” "So I do, Thomas; but even had there been any damage, these remarks should have been received as ample compensation. Perhaps you can recollect some more thoughts of this kind rushing through your heart." "One thing I shall not soon forget, measter: I had long ago been experimentally teached that the world wur not my 'rest;' but it wur only of late I larned that neither wur the church my 'rest;' the sad change at the ould chapel sent this home with a drive upon my heart, and so I began to think more of the 'rest which remaineth for the people of God. Well, one day when I wur turning over in my mind what Paul says, that 'to depart and be with Christ is far better;' this came in like a flood; where would be the far better, wur Christ a mere man, or, what is more, a moighty angel; for sure Paul could not have so much of his company to himself, as to make up for every thing. I am afeard I miss my mark for want of words, but I see'd clearly, that so much of the bliss of heaven, as the Bible sets out, could not hang on none but a God. Why, a human Saviour would never get through all the redeemed to bid them welcome; they will be so many sons in glory, that he could hardly speak to each more than once in a thousand years; which don't come up to the far better' of the word. I hope this is not disreverent to say so; I don't mean wrong at all, but I'mun say that the Christ of Socinians cannot make the heaven of the Bible; the lamb is the glory' of that." When Thomas had finished this speech, he went out to see after his horses, and during his absence, my father said; "You perceive, children, that God reveals to babes and sucklings, what is often hid from the wise and prudent. This worthy man in the simplicity of his heart 'doeth the will of God, and, agreeably to the promise, he knows of the doctrine whether it be of God. And, believe me, those plain remarks you have just heard, are more weighty than any verbal criticism I ever heard. They are grounded upon the very essence of present and future happiness. And this is exactly that kind of proof I wish you to be familiar with, now that our neighbourhood is ringing with speculation. Take then the following specimen: Jesus says, 'he that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me. Now you know what it is to love me; I feel that you do. And your departed mother!"-Here my father was overcome, and stopped. He had anticipated this emotion, and to hide it from us, had fixed on his spectacles firmly, and, leaning his arms upon the great Bible before him, looked down while he was speaking. But the gush of tears was too plentiful for the glasses to conceal long: they fell altogether on the Bible at once. I need not say that we were all touched to the heart. Well, after a little, my father became composed, and proceeded thus: "My beloved children; you feel at this moment what 'natural affection' is. Could you transfer those fine emotions, now, to Moses, to Elijah, or to Isaiah ?" "No, indeed, papa," said Mary, "it would be impossible, and unnatural if it were possible; no human being of good sense would ask for such affection, nor have any right to it. A divine Saviour deserves it, but a human Jesus could not establish a claim beyond esteem and obedience.""Thank you, thank you, Mary; I am not selfish in drawing out this good confession, so gratifying to me. I feel in regard to you all, what you feel on my behalf, that a human Saviour would not, indeed, ought not to say, 'he that loveth son or daughter more than me, is not worthy of me.' God, manifest in the flesh to atone, and ascended to intercede, has a right to claim even more, and I feel it both natural and proper to transfer my paternal love, in all its strength, to Immanuel. But it is the hour of prayer; call in the servants. We shall resume this subject at some future time, when we are less agitated."-I am overcome too, and must stop for the present. NON. CON. VISITS TO THE HOVEL OF POVERTY. VISIT II. "Better is little with the fear of the Lord, than great treasure and trouble therewith."-PROV. xv. 16. I was so deeply affected by the discourse of poor Sally, that the next afternoon, I set off early, that I might pass a longer time with her. I wished to learn that secret, which could thus transform sorrow into joy, and poverty into riches-a secret, better worth knowing, than that of the philosopher's stone-or the art of transmuting the baser metals into gold. When I entered the low hovel, I found her alone, supported in her bed, and reading her Bible; I took my seat on the broken chair beside her, and feeling her hand very cold, "Let me cover you warmer, Sally," said I, "it is quite cool this afternoon, and the wind is blowing on you through these cracks and crevices; the mud has fallen off the walls, you must be very uncomfortable when it rains; I wish I could move you to a better place." "Dear maʼam, don't make yourself uneasy on my account. Surely I should not complain even of this poor mud hovel, when I think that he who saved me, uttered that mournful saying, The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head? Oh if I had only the earth to lie on, and the sky to cover me, I ought not to murmur when I think of this. Sickness, nakedness, hunger, pain and sorrow, have, by his mercy, been changed into great blessings to me, seeing they have been made the means of saving me from eternal suffering. And who would not endure all these, and more too, if thereby he could gain a life of eternal blessedness? We know, indeed, that no sufferings of ours will atone for our sins, much less purchase heaven. The blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin; and it is he who has purchased for us an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled, and that fadeth not away? But yet we ought to bear patiently what he lays upon us; because it is by this that we are to show that we love him, and submit to him, and so are his disciples: and we may well be ashamed to complain when he lays on us infinitely less than he suffered himself; and suffered for us, wretched and hell deserving sinners. When I entered his service, I knew the conditions, for when he called me he said, 'take up thy cross and follow me:' and even if my cross was a thousand times heavier, gladly would I carry it, for the sake of following the blessed Jesus. The riches and the pleasures of this world, are such clogs to the soul, and keep it so weighed down to earth, that it is all but impossible to get forward on our journey to heaven, until these heavy clogs are removed-these strong ties are broken. The heaviest cross a poor sinner can carry, does not, I think, hinder him so much in his way to heaven, as the pleasures and even the comforts of this world.-Ah, dear young lady, you shake your head, and look as if you couldn't believe this. True, it is a hard saying, and many when they hear the Saviour say, 'take up thy cross and follow me,' turn away sorrowful, like the young man in the gospel. And I don't pretend to say, the best of us take it up very willingly, or that we ought to make crosses for ourselves; but I do say, that many a one will find when it is laid upon him, that it was for his soul's good. And believe a poor old woman, who has had the trial, that this world's goods and kind friends to boot, without God, are not sufficient to fill and satisfy the cravings of the heart. All the riches, and honours, and friends, in the world, will not make him contented, if it is to them alone he looks for his content. "You know, no people could be better off than my master and mistress and their family. Yet, dear me, what discontentedness, and murmuring, and sorrowful faces used I to see amongst them. Let them have what they would, they were always wanting something more, or something else. They didn't know themselves what they wanted. They thought it was more riches, or honours, or friends-and they got more and more, yet all would not do-no, nor if they could have got the whole world would it have filled their hearts, as I saw once set out in a picture. It was a picture of a heart, which is three cornered you know, and the world, which is round, was Now this painted inside of it. world, turn it how you would, never could fill up all the corners of the heart. No, and nothing will fill them up, but the love of God. Oh, my dear young mistress, that will fill up every chink and corner; yes, and at times, fill it almost to bursting. This dear book," continued she, pressing it to her heart, "giveth that peace, 'which the world cannot give and cannot take away. It is a lamp to the feet and a light to the path ;—a light, which has cheered many a long, dark, and sleepless night, with a brighter light than the noon-day sun. For the light of the sun can only be seen by the eyes, but the light of grace shines into the soul, and makes all there joyful and glad. The light of the sun, though it often shines on the darkest misery, cannot take away either sin or sorrow, but the |