ANSWER TO THE FOLLOWING QUERY: How could Jefus grow in wisdom and knowledge, if he were the true God, and, confequently, infinite in both?

See Evan. Mag. for March, p. 17.

F there be any difficulty in reconciling these ideas, it must be on the fuppofition, that a union of the divine and human natures in the perfon of Chrift implies a communication of properties; i. e. that whatever property belongs to him as a divine perfon, it muft, on his affuming human nature, belong, to him as human. But I know of no fuch fentiment being held by any trinitarian. It is always maintained, fo far as I know, that as Chrift was very God, he retained all the peculiar properties of godhead; and as he was made very man, he affumed all the peculiar properties of manhood. The above fuppofition, fo far from belonging to the doctrine of what is called the hypoftatical union, is utterly inconfiftent with it: for if the union of the human nature to the Divinity imply, that it must become infinite in wisdom and knowledge, it alfo implies that it must become omnipresent and almighty. And it might with equal propriety be afked how could Jefus grow in ftature and trength, if he were, infinite in power? as how could he grow in wisdom and knowledge, if he were infinite in both? But this is equivalent to afking, How could he be a child born, and yet be called the mighty God? That is, how could he be both God and man?

Further, if a union between the divine and human natures of Chrift imply a communication of properties, why fhould not that communication be mutual? There is juft as much reafon for concluding that all the imperfections of humanity should be imparted to the divinity, as that all the perfections of divinity fhould be imparted to the humanity. But this would form a contradiction; as it would be fuppofing him to retain neither perfection nor imperfection, and fo to be neither God nor man.

But if we admit the fcripture account of things, no fuch confequences will follow. If that eternal life that was with the Father was fo manifefted to us, as to be capable of being heard, and feen with our eyes, and looked upon and handled; in other words, if he were a divine perfon, always existing with the Father, and was manifefted to us by the affumption of human nature; and if each nature, though mysteri

Qufly

oufly united, yet retains its peculiar properties, all is confiftent. Things may then be attributed to Chrift which belong to either his divine, or his human nature: he may be a child born, may grow up from infancy to age, increase in knowledge, in wildom, and in ftature; be fubject to hunger, and thirft, and wearinefs, and painfulness; in a word, in all things be made like unto his brethren and at the fame time be, in another refpe&t, the mighty God, upholding all things by the word of his power.

If thou be the Son of God, faid Satan, command that these ftones be made bread. This was infinuating that it was inconfiftent for fo divine a perfonage, who had the command of the whole creation, to be fubject to want. But the anfwer of Jefus intimates, that he was alfo the fan of man, and that, as fuch, it was fitting that he fhould feel his dependance upon God.

The writer of the epiftle to the Hebrews, after afferting the dignity of the great Author of chriftianity, as not only fuperior to angels, but acknowledged by the Father as GoD, whofe throne was for ever and for ever, obviates an objection, that would arife from his deep humiliation; fhewing the neceffity there was for his being made like unto his brethren.*

Socinians may amuse themselves, and their admirers, by talking of the abfurdity of God being exposed to suffering, and of a man of Judea being the creator of the world. They know well enough, if they had candour fufficient to own it, that it is not as God that we afcribe the former to him, nor as man, the latter: yet, owing to the intimate union of divinity and humanity in his perfon, there is an important sense in which it may be faid, that the prince (or author) of life was killed; that God purchafed his church with his own blood; that hereby perceive we the love of God, because he LAID DOWN HIS LIFE for us; that our GREAT HIGH PRIEST, JESUS THE SON OF GOD, WAS TOUCHED WITH THE FEELING OF OUR INFIRMITIES; and that he who was born in Bethlehem, was before all things, and by him all things confift. GAIUS.

SIR,

To the Editor of the Evangelical Magazine.

SI obferve that you have announced the new edition

obliged to you, if you will hint to your numerous readers, that any corrections or new anecdotes, which they may be

VOL. IX.

* Chap. i. 2.
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able

able to communicate will be acceptable, directed to the publishers. As all the portraits will be new engravings, I have thought, fince the propofals were publifhed, that it would be advisable to introduce others, in the room of fome whofe names are but little known; I am favoured with access to Dr. Williams's library, where there are many. Perhaps, fome of your readers may be in poffeffion of original pictures of equal value, from which they would be glad to have engravings taken. But on account of the expence, the number must be limited to about twenty-fix, unless any perfons, from refpect for these worthies will take the expence upon themfelves. By this mean, the number of engravings, which are highly gratifying to the public, may be greatly mutiplied. This idea was fuggefted to me by the late learned and excellent Mr. Harmer of Watesfield (who greatly patronized the first edition of this work) in one of his valuable letters, where, having given me intelligence of feveral original paintings, he expreffes himfelf thus: "For my own part, I could with to fee more than twenty-four heads of these worthies, and that relations, or the churches to which they miniftred, or gentlemen of curiofity and fortune, would add portraits to those you have proposed to oblige the world with. picture of Mr. Langfton, of Ipfwich, hangs in their veftry. How agreeable (and eafy) would it be for fo large an af fembly as that is, to have it engraved at their own expence.'

The

I apprehend the infertion of the above will be acceptable to many of your readers, at the fame time, that it will confer an obligation upon your obedient

Hackney, April 20, 1801. SAMUEL PALMER.

སྐྱེས་ར་ར་ར་རhub"bu

Anecdote of the late Countess of Burford.

Tride, almost conftantly, on horfeback, upwards of fix

HOUGH for the laft few years of her life fhe had to

teen miles, to and from the churches where the attended to hear the true doctrines of the church of England; thofe truths which he loved, and which were her support and confolation in death; yet neither froft, fnow, rain, or bad roads were fufficient to detain her at home. Will not fome, even among thofe who profefs the fame truths, feel a fenfe of fhame, and be ftirred to emulation when they read this; whofe confciences teftify how prone they are to permit any trivial incident, or even the appearance of unfavourable weather, to detain them from the house of God? [Memoir, 2d ed. p. ii.]

A FOURTH VILLAGE DIALOGUE

BETWEEN MR. DOLITTLE, FARMER LITTLEWORTH AND HIS FAMILY.

Mr. Dolittle rides a Mile out of town to the Farmer's House. Mr. Dolittle.

WELL, Mafter Littleworth, how are you? I was afraid you was ill of the gout, for I have not feen you at church above these three months.

Farmer. I am obliged to you, Sir, for your kind enquiries; but I thank God, of late, I have been better than ufual.

D. How is it then, Sir, that you have been fo remifs in your duty in nor attending your church?

F. Oh, no, Sir; I have not neglected church; for I, and my daughter Nance, have lately been to hear Mr. Lovegood.

D. So I have heard, Sir; and in a little while longer, I should not wonder if he was to drive both of you mad by his enthusiastic harangues.

F. Why, Sir, did you ever hear him?

D, I hear him-No, Sir; nor fhall I ever difgrace my character by attending fuch modern feducers.

F. Did you ever talk to him, Sir?

D. I talk to him-No; nor will any other rational clergyman hold converfation with fuch fort of fellows.

F. Does our law judge any man before it hears him?

D. O Sir! this is bringing matters to a fine pass; you can quote fcripture against your minifter already.

F. Now, Mr. Dolittle, it is not fit that either you or I should put ourfelves out of temper, while we are talking about religion; but if you will be fo kind as to come in and fit down, and drink a dish of tea, I fhould be glad to talk matters over with you, and if I am wrong, the Lord direct you to fet me right!

D. No, Mr. Littleworth; while you, as churchwarden, can act as you do, and can fet fuch an example as to leave your own parish church, and run rambling after fuch fort of preachers, I fhall not think it proper to darken your doors any more. If you had gone to the meeting after old Dr. Dronish, it would not have been half fo bad; for, I am told, he preaches good fober, moral fermons ; but to run rambling after such wild enthusiasts, is too bad.

Mrs. Littleworth. But, Sir, if you will not drink tea with my husband, yet I hope you will ftop for my fake, and my daughters; for his new notions in religion is as bad a grief to us as it can be to you.

D. Ah, Mrs. Littleworth, I pity you to my heart! It is amazing how much the peace and comfort of people's families are broken up by these religious difputes.

F. Well, Sir, if you wont accept the invitation from me, you are quite as welcome to accept it from my wife and daughters; neither does religion, or Mr. Lovegood, teach me to be rude or uncivil to my neighbours; fo that such disputes cannot be laid to the charge of religion-but on those who oppose it. I fhould be very glad if you would walk in and fit down, that we may talk matters over in a chriftian-like manner; and while I an. fwer for myself, if I should in any wise speak unmannerly, I'll beg your pardon. D. Well,

E e 2

D. Well, Sir, that is fair. I am apt to be a little hafty, I confess, but you must not impute this to the badnefs of my heart.

F. Why, Sir, to my humble way of thinking all that comes out of us, which is bad, comes from fomething that is bad within us. But pray, Come in, Sir. (Calls his daughter Polly.) Where is Sam? tell him to take Mr. Dolittle's horfe, put him in the ftable, and give him a lock of hay, and a good feed of corn.

[Mr. Dolittle comes in; a fire is lighted in the best parlour, and tea is. brought in; but no one appears but Mrs. Littleworth, and Mifs Nancy to wait on the Rector.]

F. Why, Nancy, where are your fifters?

Mifs Nancy. They are gone up ftairs to drefs.

F. To dress! Why were'nt' they dreffed before Mr. Dolittle came? Now, all this they got by going to that boarding school. They can't make you a dish of tea without putting on some new-fashioned gown, or new-fangled cap, and fome other nonfenfes. I hope, Sir, you will talk to them for their pride; I cannot fee the fenfe of fuch ceremonies in our way of living.

D. Perhaps not, Sir, but young ladies will have their foibles. [Their appearance in a gaudy, taudry drefs prevents any further converfation.] D. continues. Now, Sir, I am ready to hear what has made you change your religion, and why you have left your parish church.

F. Well, Sir, as near as I can, I'll tell you all about it. When my father fent me a courting to my prefent wife, Farmer Thrifty's daughter, after we had made a match of it, we put our fortunes together, and I bought the leafe of my farm of the late Lord Rakifh, who was as wild a blade as the prefent Lord, that now is; and as he wanted money, they fay, his fteward received a fly fum of my wife's father, that we might have a better bargain; but of this I have no certain knowledge.

D. I doubt there are too many of thete fly bargains made; but what has this to do with your change in religion?

F. Why, having got fuch a good bargain, no world for me like the prefent; my heart was fet upon it; I could be up early and late, about from fair to fair, that I might buy and fell, and get gain; and this I foolifhly called the main chance; but as for my bible, and prayer, and the concerns of my precious foul, I had no more regard to these things than beast.

D. And pray where was the fin of all this? Should not every young man mind what he is at when he takes a large concern? But if you did not do your duty in faying your prayers, and attending your church, that was your own fault.

F. Yes, Sir, these things, as it refpects my fhould have done, and not left the other undone." cafe, for I was as wicked as

worldly concerns, “I But that was not my

D. Hold, Mr. Littleworth, for it has been told me, that when the Bishop came about to confirm, in those days no young man appeared fo decent, and fo devout as you then was; and that for fome time afterwards you attended church and facrament very regularly! And if fince then you have been a little remifs in your duty, yet it is to be hoped you will remember in due time properly to return to it, and that you will die a good man; and it cannot be expected, that people fhould be lo strict in religion while they have to rife in the world.

F. Ah! I well remember, when the old Bishop came round our parts, in thofe days, how Mr. Blindman, in whofe parifh I then lived, told us, that our Godfathers and Godmothers were to aniwer for what we had

done