PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.

NASMUCH as in the case of a devotional work, more than of any other, what is personal to the Author claims consideration, I take leave to communicate the following particulars :For several years I had, in common with many others, felt the want of a sterling book of devotion- the product of our own times, and judiciously adapted to the prevailing wants; and I was surprised that, among the increasing number of works on the practice of Christianity, there appeared none calculated to be for the age in which we live what those of Thomas à Kempis and of John Arndt were for theirs. It is true that the Church still possesses the treasure bequeathed to her by those and other witnesses for the truth, who were masters of the art of speaking to the heart; and that such sterling works of the olden time will never cease to sustain and foster vital Christianity, as long as the Bible continues to lay the foundation of it. At the same time, however, they do not by any means preclude the necessity of a work originating in the present day. For does not the difference between books of devotion and the Holy Scriptures consist in this, that the latter furnish the prolific seed of all the many and various developments of spiritual life, and consequently provide a fund of spiritual nourishment suited for all ages and all individuals alike; whereas a book of devotion delineates one particular form of it, modified by its own particular age, and by the peculiarities of the individual author? Is there not a connection between the mode in which the religious life is at any time expressed and the then prevailing degree of culture; and in consequence of this, do not different periods claim for a book of devotion a corresponding difference in style? And even, although that point be overlooked, considering that there are at least a few models of excellence in form which continue classical for all ages, has not

every age dangers and errors, discoveries and views, conflicts and afflictions, peculiarly its own? There can be no doubt, therefore, that beside the devotional books of bygone times a place on the shelf is due to more modern productions; and would not an À Kempis, a Tauler, and an Arndt, had they lived in the nineteenth century, have spoken with far greater power than they do to the hearts of the present generation?

The thought of labouring in this field of literature, however, was foreign to my mind until awakened by outward incidents. First of all, in the year 1826, when bowed down both in mind and body by long and severe indisposition, I began to write meditations on passages of Scripture chiefly with a view to my own consolation. The task was never finished. During my second visit to England, I received a fresh impulse by becoming acquainted with a work of which the plan appeared to me eminently suited for family worship. It contained select portions of sacred Scripture, chiefly of a practical tendency, and one for every day of the year. Short solutions of the difficulties were given for the purpose of promoting insight into the meaning of the Word. There was then appended a meditation upon the text, and finally a prayer embodying, as vows to God, the resolutions inspired by the subject. I still think that a devotional work executed according to such a plan is a real want of the Church of our native land still requiring to be supplied; and I was stirred up repeatedly to think of composing a work of the sort. It was, however, the state of my eyesight, which for a length of time threatened to fail me, that proved the occasion of my writing the book which I now present to the Christian world. During the winter mornings and evenings I was prevented from pursuing my usual employments by candle-light, and it was then that, in quiet rumination, the plan of these 'Hours of Christian Devotion' was matured. At the time, the danger of being compelled to resign for several years, if not for ever, my vocation as professor, was constantly present to my mind; and if a season of affliction is not in general the most unfavourable for the production of a religious work, I may be permitted to indulge good hopes of the success of the present one, as not only the original conception but also the subsequent execution of it occupied what were very grave hours of my life.

On the other hand, I am well aware how much there is to weaken this expectation. The curse of the present age, which

has proved the main hindrance to the production of a sterling work of Christian devotion, will not spare mine. The force of intuition, and with it of vital faith, is broken by the predominance of the reflective power, which lifts its voice not merely in the professor's chair, where it has a right to be heard, but even in the closet of prayer. It is the fatal worm which is perpetually gnawing at the faith of our times, and consuming its vigour. When I speak of reflection, I do not mean, as many may misapprehend, the doubts which may arise in individual minds. What I mean is, the habit of reflecting upon the reasonableness of faith which necessarily presupposes the positive existence of doubt. If, however, the true theologian be he who, after climbing the ladder of science to a height at which he has the unclouded heaven in view, delights himself with gazing into it, and no longer thinks of the steps of the ladder save when employed in the friendly office of helping those at the foot to mount-if he, I say, be the true theologian, then certainly there is no better school for perfecting his education than that of affliction, for there he becomes practically confirmed in the article of faith, and has no leisure to look anywhere but above himself. Whether I have succeeded in supplying to any extent an existing want, time must decide. To myself it is a satisfaction to know that the work is not the product of reflection, but owes its origin to external inducements which were wholly unsolicited.

For some time I could not make up my mind with regard to the plan. At first I hesitated whether to make it a work for family use or a devotional book of a more general character; next, whether to adopt exclusively the form of meditation, and in that case, whether the meditation should adhere closely to the text, or take a wider range; and finally, what arrangement would best answer the purpose in view. Hardly any of our books of devotion are methodically arranged. The casual contemplations which they deliver present themselves like flowers upon the meadow, to be plucked as any one likes. Something may perhaps be said in favour of this plan; at any rate, such a lack of method is preferable to an excess of it, when obtained at the expense of freedom and liveliness. It may, however, be objected to such an unmethodical collection, that it is wholly inartistic; and, moreover, that there are arrangements by which certain advantages, intellectual as well as religious and moral, may be attained. I therefore came to the resolution to give in these meditations a view of

the Development of the Christian life on both its inward and outward sides. This further entailed that the book should be of a more general character, and also that it should take the form of meditations; because for family worship, at which the whole household, including the servants, are present, this form is, in my opinion, less suitable than that which I have above described. By the plan which I have adopted I likewise hope to meet the wants of those who, at least, are not destitute of Christian feelings, but in whom these are not accompanied by a developed Christian intelligence. Bishop Mynster's book endeavours to combine edification with an exhaustive exposition of the doctrines as they are classed in systems of theology. My endeavour has been to do the same with regard to the doctrine of the Christian way of salvation. A rigid systematising is in general repugnant to my nature, and as my fondness for carving out of the raw material equals my aversion to the process of gluing, I have not sacrificed freedom of expatiation to regularity of plan. Within the limits of the course taken by the work, as a whole, freedom and variety obtain. Most books of devotion are chargeable with monotony. That is a fault which I have endeavoured to avoid-or rather, to speak more correctly, it is a fault into which the peculiarity of my mind has prevented me from falling. In writing these meditations I have felt myself in my proper element much more than in the composition of sermons, the traditional form of which imposes fetters under which my mind often sighs for freedom. I have also ventured to lay aside the language of the pulpit, and, in so far as the subject admitted, have adopted the style sometimes of Claudius, sometimes of Thomas à Kempis, sometimes of Tersteegen, and at others, and indeed most frequently, of Luther. To that dear father of our Church I have owed more than I can tell in the composition of this work. In converse with such a man of steelso pithy a nature-in whom certain phases of the Christian life were exhibited in the most finished style (although differently gifted individuals have displayed it more perfectly in others), I always felt myself edified, elevated, and strengthened. His image, I confess, had for several years presented itself to me under a cloud, for I fixed my eye too exclusively upon the outbreaks of his vigorous nature, ere yet it had been subdued by the Spirit of the Lord; and I felt myself inspired with purer sentiments of reverence for Calvin, whose mind was so well disciplined both in thinking and acting. But on resuming my study of Luther, when the