:

"That was the time, when their perceptions were not yet blunted by sensuality and sin, when their sense of the beauty of holiness' was still keen and lively when they could yet pray with fervour could feel cheered by the Spirit's inward ray could lift up their hearts to God, filled with heavenly aspirations, having an insight into the hidden mysteries of his kingdom, 'the secret of the Lord,' the part of the temple behind the veil.

"But that time is gone. They were then as babes in the knowledge of the world; they have now learned its love and its wisdom by experience, and have proportionably unlearned Christ. The Spirit of God has ceased to dwell with them; they have grieved' it by their impure thoughts, their brutish appetites, their carnal affections; they have quenched' its warm flame by the cold calculations of worldliness, or drowned it in the cares' of office, or 'the deceitfulness of riches.'

"Like Ephraim' they have turned to their idols,' and the provoked Spirit has let them alone;' God, after long striving with them, has at last given them up unto their own hearts' lust, and let them follow their own imaginations:' and so they are become as very fools,' seeing to see not, and hearing to hear not, and to say in their hearts, and to live in their lives as though they believed there were no God.'”—(pp. 92, 93.)

Sermon xv. (by the way) affords another characteristic specimen of courtly application, and illustrates still further the particular view which it has been our object to develope-the preacher's strong unqualified assumptions in regard to baptism and external profession. The Sermon in question was preached upon Sunday, August 11, 1844, on the occasion of a public "Thanksgiving to Almighty God, for the safe delivery of the Queen, and the happy birth of a Prince."

"Who," the preacher asks, can estimate the untold and ever-increasing sources of joy, to the parents, from a band of children dwelling together in unity? "The Holy Spirit has compared them to the ointment on the head,' overflowing, till it 'ran down even to the beard, and to the skirts of the clothing,' to the dew of heaven falling on a hill, on which the Lord had promised his blessing and life for evermore.'

"Even the Roman lady could produce her two sons, and exhibit them to a stranger as her choicest jewels,' holding herself sufficiently rich in them to despise the pearls and treasures of the other.

What, then, must be the Christian parent's estimate of an heritage and gift,' which not only came originally of the Lord, but which has been again consecrated to him in baptism, and made His by adoption, while hers in possession?-who has secured for them a perpetual interest in him who has called himself' the Father of the fatherless,' and who has said, that he will never leave them nor forsake them!'

"But if this be true of the offspring of any Christian parent, how far more precious must such an heritage be in the eyes of a Christian sovereign, in whom are centered the interests and the welfare of a nation ;-and not of a nation only, but of no small portion of the inhabitants of the globe.

"What human being can calculate the importance of an unbroken line of succession in this kingdom? Who that witnesses the misery and distraction to which neighbour nations have been subjected, from a disputed succession to the throne, can be sufficiently thankful to God, that, humanly speaking, we have nothing to apprehend under this head? Well may it be said, that as arrows in the hand of a giant,' so are the royal princes in the hands of a nation serving and fearing God! They are so many hostages for peace; so many pledges for a nation's security. Happy is' that nation' which has its

quiver full of them; it shall not be ashamed when it speaks with its enemies in the gate!'

"By the blessing of God, it is ours to live in an age of all but universal peace and long may it be so! Long may the nations of the earth continue to see it as their truest and wisest policy to be in love and mutual charity with one another:—but should the evil days return, when there shall be war in the gates,' and the calm of the earth be broken by the storms and tempest of empires striving for the mastery; let it be our comfort to reflect that we are armed, not more with our national wealth and national spirit, than with a God-fearing and a God-honouring sovereign. A sovereign strong in the affections of her subjects; strong in the hearts of a loyal and united people; but above all these, strong in a house built up in faith,' and firmly established' in the Lord."-(pp. 224-226.)

The following may sum up these choice specimens of charitable assumption.

"Let the Christian, then, not make his offering to God of that which costs him nothing. Naaman, the Syrian, could wash seven times in Jordan, and be clean' from his inveterate disease, though he could not see what connexion there was between the waters of Israel and the removal of his complaint; and so let the proud unbeliever have faith in the waters of baptism, and believe that he can be cleansed from all sin by an unseen Saviour. But happily for our age and nation, we have not many among ourselves to whom those remarks will apply. By God's grace we live in days, where, from the sovereign on the throne, to her remotest subject, we have around us a people ever ready for the most part to receive with meekness the engrafted word, which is able to save their souls."'—(p. 332.)

We know not that it is always seasonable to wield the hammer of the word: but we would certainly recommend Mr H. to take a lesson or two of good old Latimer, or of Hall, and others his predecessors at the Chapel Royal, in this most important art. His pleasant-reading sermons do not strike us as very likely to break the rock in pieces: but we fear there is as much need of this at Whitehall as elsewhere.1

I

The following anecdote from the Life of Dean Milner may strike our readers as a little apropos. Writing to his friend Mr. Stillingfleet (17th March, 1802), he says:"I was appointed to preach, on Ash Wednesday, at Whitehall; and I was very anxious to discharge that duty, particularly as I had been disappointed by ill-health at the time of my former turn at the same place, soon after I was made Dean. I went to London, but I was so poorly that I was obliged to have a substitute ready. It pleased God, however, that about seven o'clock in the morning of Ash Wednesday I found myself wonder fully better. I instantly sent my boy three miles to tell my deputy not to come. preached on the one thing needful, for an hour and twenty minutes, to a crowded audience, and to the Bishop of Oxford, who would think it queer work, I dare say. Many more would have been present, but the report had got round that I should not be there. You would have been entertained to see Rowland Hill at the chapel, expressing his approbation in too marked a manner." His biographer afterwards observes :-"The approbation expressed in too marked a manner,' at the chapel of Whitehall, by the venerable Rowland Hill, naturally recals the recollection of another incident, related, I think, in the life of that excellent man. Dean Milner having, during one of his many visits to London, heard Rowland Hill preach at his own crowded chapel, went to him in the vestry after the service was concluded, and, cordially shaking him by the hand, said, in the hearing of several persons, Mr. Hill, Mr. Hill, it is this slap-dash style of preaching after all that does all the good." (Life by his Niece, pp. 252-255.) We submit these ana to the grave consideration of our Whitehall and other preachers. Applied cum grano salis, we think they may suggest a good practical hint in not a few cases.

But we intimated that Mr. H. appeared to us defective in regard to the cardinal doctrine of the Redeemer's atonement. We say defective-because we are far from intimating, that we doubt his belief of the atonement. There may, we conceive, be defect, here, as in the matter of human corruption-the new-birth, or the Christian character--and where there is defect in the one case, there will also be a parallel defect in the other. All we mean in regard to Mr. H.'s view of the atonement is, that he does not seems to us to have those enlarged conceptions of its cost which several strong expressions of scripture, and the nature of the case, are calculated to give us. Not that we have any explicit statement or any decided reference to the subject in the entire course of twenty-five sermons (itself, by the way, defect enough): but an author's tone or his method of handling some particular text, will often as surely indicate his settled views as a more deliberate statement: and judging Mr. H. by this standard, we must say, that we have seldom read any thing more chilling than his Sermon on the Sunday next before Easter, entitled, "God most present in time of trouble." It is one of the best specimens of his skill in the art of attenuation. His theme, as we have said, is-"God most present in time of trouble:" his text "And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabacthani? that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" Our readers probably will ask with ourselves "What is the connection between the theme and the text?" For our own part, we must confess that there appears to us a somewhat marked discrepancy, if we are to take the theme and the text in the same application: but in this particular we may have mistaken the preacher. We question, however, whether our readers will feel any more satisfied than ourselves with the following interpretation of that exceeding bitter cry--“ My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me."

"How, then, asks Mr. H., ' are we to understand this awful, this thrilling appeal,'Why hast thou forsaken me?' Are we warranted in supposing, that at this moment Jesus actually imagined himself forsaken by God? and that the words are therefore uttered, as they seem to be, in the extremity of despair: as David says in the Psalms, Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord;-Lord, hear my voice!'

"Can we be justified in thinking, that at this hour, this particular instant, when the Father was about to receive again his son to Himself: when the work he had given him to do, was finished, or waited but a few seconds for its total and final completion: that at this moment, of all others, he would forsake him?-or that Christ himself, having ever heretofore experienced the immediate and actual presence of God with him upon earth, could, by any possible illusion, or suggestion of the evil one, conceive himself deserted by that presence now? Can we, I ask, hold this opinion? or is not more reasonable to conclude, that now, if it were possible, more than ever God was

with him; was wounded (to speak in a figure) as he was wounded; pierced when he was pierced; felt as he felt; and (in the Spirit at least) died as his only-begotten Son died, in his assumed and fleshly nature?

6

How then are we to account for the apparent, and indeed unquestionable anguish of this loud voice,' this dying groan, this all but desponding cry, 'My God, my God.' Did he, who in the garden (after earnest prayer, His sweat falling as it were great drops of blood to the ground,') had devoted himself to this painful death, saying, 'Not my will but thine be done:' did he, who knew that this cup' could not pass from him,' consistently with the office of atoning for our sins, which he had taken upon himself, but that it must be drunk off to the very dregs with all its bitterness-suppose that he was overlooked at this instant amidst the objects of God's regard? That the eye of the All-seeing no longer rested upon him ; and though fixed stedfastly upon the millions and millions of other created beings, yet wandered from the scene of his suffering? No: none of these conclusions can be borne for a moment by the true believer: it is incredible that such should have been his thought in giving utterance to the cry.

"We are constrained therefore, to put some other intelligible sense upon the words; and it is not difficult to discover such an one in that acceptation of the passage, which, while it exhibits conclusively the human character of our Redeemer, makes the words themselves mercifully serve as a memorial and mysterious repository of comfort to every distressed and heart-broken Christian.

"We find these same solemn words used by the Psalmist under the pressure of some heavy calamity, in a striking passage, which though written evidently in reference to some present suffering of his own, was doubtless prophetically spoken, (under the guidance of the Holy Spirit,) with reference to Christ, and is manifestly so quoted by him on this occasion, 'My God, my God, look upon me; why hast thou forsaken me; and art so far from my health, and from the words of my complaint? oh, my God, I cry in the day time, but thou hearest not; and in the night season also I take no rest.'

"And yet did not David then, (any more than our Saviour on the cross) consider himself as virtually cast off, or forsaken by God: or imagine in his heart that God was really 'far from him.'

"But this David felt, and this the spiritual son of David meant us to feel, in his adoption of the language of the Psalm, that without God's sensible and perceptible, as well as actual presence with us we are insufficient to bear up in spiritual strength against the hour of greatest trial.

"They knew that it is by a strength not our own, but coming directly, if not visibly from God, that we are at any time able to struggle against the sufferings of the flesh.

"How much more, then, was it necessary, at this dreadful moment, that not only God should be present with our Lord, but that even, as it were, a double portion of his Spirit' should have been upon him, to uphold him in this fearful severance of body and soul! The Spirit indeed is willing,' says our Lord of his disciples, sleeping as they did for very weariness and sorrow, 'but the flesh is weak;' and here he felt himself the weakness of the flesh; he felt as if, being indeed as 'very man,' of human nature and mortal mould in the body, he was not sufficient of his own strength to bear up any longer against such a weight of suffering: and his exclaiming, in the words of the Psalmist, 'My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me,' expresses but this feeling, that the earthy part of his nature failed him, while he no longer found in His breast that supporting aid, that hidden treasure of the Spirit, which had on all former occasions nerved him with fortitude against the opposition of man, the scoff of scorn, the persecutions of the world, the temptations of the evil one.

"He knew well what secret power it was which had carried him safely through such trials, as afflicting to the mind, as the present torture was rack

ing to the body; he was well aware by what means he had been strong to break through them all, as Samson broke the new-cords of the Philistines like a thread; that it was alone the Spirit of God within him, mighty to resist in the needful time of trouble, and at the hour of death; fearless alike of the laugh, or the frown, or the scourge of man, and looking stedfastly for its comfort in the future joys revealed to it in heaven."-(pp. 299–301.)

There is truth, no doubt, in this statement; and, passing on to the sequel, we find that Mr. H. thus connects his theme with the text-" The promise of God to the faithful is, 'I will never leave thee nor forsake thee' and at that trying moment God wanted not to be reminded of his promise, but was near to his beloved Son, and forsook him not. . . . The cry had scarce gone forth, when, it appears, the bitterness of death was already past; the agony was over: one groan more, and His Spirit, together with his bruised body, was in peace." Hence in all his sufferings the believer is to trust and not despair,-to" rejoice and be exceeding glad:" "for, as surely as the word of Scripture is true, so surely, when we suffer losses and misfortunes in this world, then are we reaping our richest harvest of gain and happiness in heaven: when we are most afflicted and persecuted upon earth, then are we nearest and dearest to Christ our Redeemer." All this and much more in a similar strain is inferred from our Redeemer's passion, "Who (was) in this article of suffering, as in all other points, 'tempted like as we are :'" but neither in the exposition or application of the passage, have we any thing more than a passing reference to the sufferings of the Redeemer as vicarious, and therefore incomparably surpassing all that can be endured by us. "The fearful severance of body and soul," the natural sufferings of our Lord, with the absence of sensible comfort, appear to be uppermost in Mr. H.'s view; nor have we any distinct mention of penal infliction. How different the comment of Bishop Hall, in his Passion-Sermon, preached at Paul's Cross; and in his Contemplations on the Crucifixion. Thus, having traced His lighter sufferings "Was his heart free?" asks this devout and impassioned preacher; "Oh no: the inner part or soul of this pain, which was unseen, is as far beyond these outward and sensible, as the soul is beyond the body: God's wrath, beyond the malice of men. These were but love-tricks, to what his soul endured: O all ye that pass by the way, behold and see, if there be any sorrow like to my sorrow: alas! Lord, what can we see of thy sorrows? We cannot conceive so much as the heinousness and desert of one of those sins, which thou bearest: we can no more see thy pain, than we could undergo it: only this we see, that what the infinite sins of almost infinite men, committed against an Infinite Majesty, deserved in infinite continuance; all this thou, in the short time of