had not surmounted, had grown in my mind into an object of such magnitude, that I determined to silence her voice, as my own was silenced already, and proceed as cautiously as it was possible. How I got on that morning, I am now at a loss to tell, so great was the suffering I endured. Pushing on alone with determined perseverance, and stopping, half alarmed, at intervals of five minutes, to breathe or to rest, it seemed at times as if I must sink; add to this, the scene was momentarily becoming more savage, and I was perfectly alone. calm spring or summer's eve, in many a romantic spot I can well remember, solitude is far from disagreeable; but on the summit of St. Bernard, with a thousand tales of terror in one's head, and with many not unimaginary sources of danger around, it is not quite so pleasant; and often taking out my glass, I searched through the waste I had passed for those I had left behind. But these were not the regions of clear summer skies, in which every distant object may be distinctly traced in its perfect form and proportions, but those of cloud and mist, which shifted as rapidly as the scenes on a stage. Sometimes, almost a palpable obscurity seemed to come down upon and envelop me; and then a gust of wind sweeping over the heights, carried off the surrounding mists or opened in the midst of this silvery framework a mighty aperture, through which might be seen, as in a huge gallery, one of those pictures which the hand of Nature alone can paint. I remember, when I was a lad, feeding my imagination with the grand and mysterious imagery of Ossian, until the shadowy existences on the side of a Caledonian mount seemed to grow into sublime realities. They were pleasant times, those times of childish credulity, when I mused and saw visions bright as the early morn, and when that scepticism which the developed intellect of maturer years engenders had not entered upon my Paradise to destroy, and faith reposed securely on all these brilliant creations of my fancy; and I do not know that the more solid realities of after-life have ever yielded me a tithe of those pleasures which I have derived from these morning dreams. Alas! they have all taken unto themselves wings; for man dreams not more than once. Yet I must confess that this morning something of the spirit of my early youth, with its marvellous and undoubting and delicious faith, came down upon me, and the glories of Ossian, no longer imaginary, appeared to marshal themselves before me as so many palpable realities. Rolling past me their swelling and gigantic forms, to Fancy the mountain mists seemed like the spirits of an antediluvian race, and I could have addressed, as I almost trembled at their approach. Nor was it an undefined idea I had. I marked their form and progress and proportions, and accordingly I gave its character to the spirit of the approaching mist. Slowly and heavily advancing, it might have been the spirit of some aged chieftain whom death had snatched from the councils of his clan, or of some sullen and discomfited hero reluctantly retiring from the battle-field; whilst, as a furious gust swept by, I saw some fiery chieftain, hot with the fire of youth and mighty in battle, hurrying impetuously in pursuit of his enemy. To those who have never left the din of cities, these illusions will no doubt appear weak and foolish; but up, up aloft, above the pleasant valleys and the verdant pasturages and the frowning forests, amidst the dry-bones and skeleton of the world, powdered over with the drifting snow, life is another thing. The very silence which there prevails, causing the ear to ache with intensity of attention, at length becomes eloquent with ideal voices, and the shrill whistle of the marmot, or the dashing of a waterfall, or the soughing of the wind, or the crashing of a rock as it bounds from height to height, until it reposes its enormous weight at length in the bed of the mountaintorrent, or the avalanche roaring like a distant peal of thunder, are sounds in those awful solitudes which easily become voices, and shout to us with all the violence of a gigantic race. And they did shout to me; they did become the voices of those mighty spirits of the mist which, rolling over and about and past me, inspired me with a degree of awe I cannot well describe, and in strange contrast awakened the pleasant memories of my early youth. This was no spot, however, to sentimentalize or dream; for the difficulties of the ascent became every moment greater, and, mingled with the mist, a thick driving snow now beat down upon me with increasing violence. All traces of vegetation and humanity had disappeared; even the mule-tracks, which had been my guide, were now covered up, and I floundered on, knee-deep in snow, breathless with fatigue, with the rarity of the atmosphere, and with some degree of apprehension, not knowing whither I was going or whither I ought to go. I remember stopping and looking round me, though hopelessly, for something to direct me. Nothing was to be seen but a waste of snow, and nothing to be heard but the gushing of the stream over whose frozen surface, covered up farther with some feet of snow, I was now walking. Several times I altered my course, but always with the same result; and on I went, not a little alarmed, when at length, lifting its holy form above the snow, I perceived a Cross. Blessed emblem of salvation! how often in the wild wastes of life hast thou given confidence and consolation to the weary traveller; and how often have I seen the sinner, the child of want and misery, neglected and abandoned by the world, kneeling at thy foot, and pouring out his tears and prayers, till, strengthened and comforted by the promise of better things to come, he has arisen from before thee full of hope and comfort which the world can neither give nor take away! To me there is something infinitely tender and affecting in the sight of a Cross, especially when seen on such spots as now I found it, where, contrasting with the utter abandonment and chilling solitude of the scene, it sheds a ray of divine love on the surrounding wilderness; and though the sneerer may censure it as superstitious, I could have thrown myself at its foot, full of gratitude and hope. Leaving the track I had been hitherto pursuing, I now followed the direction of this holy sign, until a short way on I found another Cross, and then another, and finally, realizing their promise of repose, something dark was seen looming through the mist, which, growing clearer and more defined as I approached, proved to be the Hospice. Numbed and exhausted, I had neither power nor inclination to mark the scene around the building; but, mounting the steps, I gladly and quickly entered this refuge of the really distressed. At first, no one was to be seen within its vast and stony passages; but at length an attendant came and conducted me to the Salle, where, throwing myself on a seat, I lay more exhausted than I ever remember to have been before. Thanks, however, to the speedy arrival of one of the brethren, and his potations of brandy and a good fire, I was soon in a condition to forget myself and think of the rest of the party; and indeed I was not a little disquieted. Minutes grew into hours, and I lay listening amidst the silence which reigned within these sacred walls for some sound which might indicate their approach. At length a dull tread, and then the stamping of feet in the outer court, as if to clear them of the snow, announced their arrival; and in a moment after, mantled with snow, with iron-shod poles in hand, and followed by the guides, they entered, breathless and numbed by the severity of the weather. However, the kind attentions of our really Christian hosts soon restored them, and dinner being served soon after, we were in a fair way of doing well. Scarcely had our frugal meal been finished, when two young Frenchmen entered, enveloped in snow; they had ascended from Piedmont, but so bad had been the weather, that they had missed the road, and barely escaped passing the night-and it might have been a long one!-on the mountain. (To be concluded in the next No.) Liverpool. HYMN. WATCHER Divine of golden flocks, And pasturing on eternity. Almighty Master of the Sun, Who send'st him forth, Thy servant true, From morning dawn to evening dew. Lord of the Earth, through all her range The Great WORLD-FATHER'S favour'd child. Where winds can reach or waters roll, Oh! as we own Thee Lord of all, So let us feel that all are Thine; Nor think a tear unheard can fall Throughout those rolling worlds of Thine. The Matter glorifies Thee not, Save through the Mind for which 'tis made; We pray, we pant, whate'er our lot, Thy will to love, Thy plans to aid. Drops as we are, oh let no drop Be wanting to the Tide Divine, But onward sweep, or instant stop, When, where Thou wilt-Thine, only Thine! ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE TRINITY.* WE may sometimes hear the opinion expressed, that the day for writing or preaching on the Trinitarian controversy is gone by; that the subject is exhausted; that it is useless any more to stir the question, because those who hold the controverted doctrine are not likely to be shaken in their belief by any thing that can now be said to them, while those who have already rejected it need not to be told how inconsistent with Scripture and Reason it is. We do not think the opinion a correct one. So long as there continue to issue from the press such works as Mr. East's Discourses on the Deity of Christ,† so long will it still be necessary from time to time to renew this controversy. So long even as such advocates of the orthodox doctrine are found as Pye Smith and Moses Stuart-above all, so long as the Trinitarian creeds hold the conspicuous place which they do hold in the popular systems of Christianity, giving occasion so often for the manifestation of an uncharitable spirit towards those who do not receive them, so long will it still be necessary from time to time to recur to this question, and to endeavour to set forth and recommend the pure gospel of Jesus and his apostles. No one, we conceive, who values Christianity at all, ought to be indifferent to the form in which it prevails in the world around him, whether in its primitive simplicity, or in the corrupted forms in which men of all parties allow that it does prevail, among some class or other of their fellow-christians. Hence, then, it behoves the advocate of the great truth of the Divine Unity in its simplest form, to do his part faithfully towards promoting the diffusion of that truth in the sphere in which he moves. Whether by mere conversational discussion, as opportunity may arise, or, if he should be in a position to employ such means, by occasional instruction and exhortation from the pulpit, or, again, by published treatises, the duty seems clearly incumbent upon him to contribute, according to his power, to the attainment of this great object. And all honour, therefore, be to the man who, in an earnest, truthful and charitable spirit, devotes his energies, in becoming measure, to this work! He, according to the light that is in him, is bravely confessing his Master before men, and, whatever may be his reward here, he will not be denied by that Master before the "Father which is in heaven." Thus thinking, we can give a hearty welcome to the new work on the subject of the Trinity which has served to call forth our present remarks. And the work is worthy of the welcome, from its own intrinsic character. It is a contribution of real value to the number of modern works on the subject; and, in the present lull of the Trinitarian controversy, is well calculated to attract attention, and to produce a decided impression on the candid and reflecting Trinitarian. We cannot, indeed, imagine that any man to whom these epithets are at * Historical and Artistic Illustrations of the Trinity; shewing the Rise, Progress and Decline of the Doctrine. With Elucidatory Engravings. 8vo. Pp. 200. London-Simpkin, Marshall and Co. For an account of this work, see the Christian Reformer for April, 1845, p. 216, seq. all applicable, can rise from its perusal without feeling himself at least constrained to admit that his Unitarian fellow-disciple has many and powerful arguments on his side, and, if he has never done so before, now at last to extend to him the right-hand of Christian fellowship. The object of the "Illustrations" is stated by the author to be, "to trace the Trinity from its origin in the misty philosophies of the East, to the idolatrous corruptions into which it ran in the debased Christianity of the middle ages." (Pref., p. v.) He afterwards says, "The Essay now published is essentially historical and artistic. This constitutes its peculiar character. Herein lies its argument....... The worth of the argument which is thus deduced from history and art, the writer must leave others to determine. To himself it appears decisive. The Trinity sprang up in a heathen soil. It was imported into the Christian church by men who had been heathen philosophers. It led in process of time to very great aberrations from the simple and strict monotheism of the primitive church. If, as this volume professes briefly to shew, these are facts, then the Trinity was Christian neither in its origin nor in its effects. Such is the writer's conviction; a conviction carefully formed; firmly, yet humbly, believed; and now set forth, with some array of evidence, under a deep sense of responsibility. Willingly, had conscience permitted, would the author have avoided so thorny a ground of controversy; but he had not the option. A necessity lay upon him to set forth an evidence which had been conclusive with himself, and was by no means commonly known. He is sustained in what appears to be his duty by the assurance that the cause of truth, which is the cause of God and man, is served by every instance in which error is removed.”— Pref., pp. v, vi. These extracts correctly describe the purpose and contents of the work. The motive which led the author to tread " so thorny a ground,” and to give the result of his researches to the public, must be recognized as amply sufficient. He has our warm thanks for having so faithfully executed the task to which "his duty" thus appeared to call him. The work divides itself into three principal parts. The first, occupying nearly a third of the entire volume, (pp. 1-56,) traces the history of the Trinity, "apart from any direct reference to the Jewish and Christian Scriptures," from its origin, centuries before the birth of Christ, in the speculations of heathen philosophy, down to the age of Justin Martyr; the second (pp. 56—136) contains a concise, but lucid and forcibly written, review of the Scripture evidence usually appealed to in support of Trinitarianism; and the third (pp. 136-200) takes up the history of the Trinity where the first part had left it, and traces the gradual growth and changes of the doctrine in its Christian form, from the days of Justin, downward to our own time. We speak of the work as dividing itself into these three principal parts. We have regretted, however, while reading it, that this or some similar division is not actually made by its author. In a closely-printed octavo of two hundred pages, it is to be lamented that there is no subdivision of any kind, into Chapters or Sections, though the contents of the volume would very well have admitted of this, and seem even to require it. This continuity is apt rather to weary the attention of a reader, and calls for some effort on his part to attain a definite idea of the plan of the book. The effect of the whole would have been better, we are |