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us in our low estate, and sent into a sphere of public action, Jesus, to call sinners to repentance,to urge them to be at peace with their offended Creator. We come to celebrate the love of Jesus, who for us men and for our sal vation endured the cross and despised the shame, that he might open the king

dom of heaven to all believers. It was for us, that, according to the purpose of Infinite Wisdom, not indeed always clearly to be understood by us, his forehead was mangled with thorns, his body was pierced with the spear; it was for us that innocence was oppressed by cruelty and infamy, and suffered in agony on the cross. While, then, our supreme gratitude is due to that Being who laid the wondrous plan which was to issue in bringing many sons unto glory, from the depths of sin and woe; let us not withhold our gratitude from him who endured every suffering and every privation, to accomplish the errand of mercy on which he was sent. As often then as we are enabled to partake of this ordinance, let us repair with pensive pleasure to the feast; and

while we recall to our minds the dread abyss from which we have been rescued by Jesus; while we think on the glory which he has set before us, and contemplate the means for our progress and security on our Christian journey towards the eternal city of habitation, let our hearts be expanded wide with affectionate emotions towards our leader."

We fully agree with the author of this tract, that love to Christ ought to be the principle of union with Christians around their Master's table; an union which should not be interrupted by difference on doctrinal or speculative subjects; which difference of sentiment, or a supposed mystery belonging to the ordinance, keeps nine-tenths of our congregations from communicating.

C.

ART. V.-Christ's Account of Himself: a Sermon delivered at Lewes, August 28, 1822, before the Sus sex Unitarian Association. By John Fullagar, Minister of the Unitarian Chapel, Chichester. Hunter and Eaton.

ID we not know how easily the

like a master-key which fits all wards, able to reconcile the flattest contradictions, we should imagine that the argument in this discourse could not be withstood. The preacher in the first part of it, argues the inferiority of Jesus to the Supreme Being, from the title Father, which our Lord ap plies to God, and in the course of his reasoning we meet with this animated passage:

"Not only has our Lord not assumed the title and the attributes of God, he hath here shewn, and in other places expressly declared, that his Father was the ONLY TRUE GOD. To him he was always obedient, to him he gave thanks continually, to him he taught his disciples to address themselves, and to him he prayed frequently before the performance of miracles; so cautious was he that the by-standers should not rest their regards on him, but carry them beyond himself, the feeble instrument of good, to the Giver of every good, and of every perfect gift. This, said he, is life eternal, to know-what? Me in all my attributes, the God of nature, the appointer of Moses, the Redeemer of Israel, now incarcerated in flesh, having left my seat of glory vacant, and the affairs of the universe to take their chance?-No,—but to know THEE, the only TRUE GOD, and Jesus Christ whom THOU HAST SENT."

Mr. F. then notices the objects of Christ's mission, the salvation of man, the revelation of a future judgment, the perfecting of himself through suf fering, for the office of judge, and the upholding of his Father's honour; which last particular the preacher considers is done by our book societies, the members of one of which he was addressing: and after urging the members to go on in their good work, he hopes he may without offence, earnestly request his fair countrywomen to second the endeavours of the other which they have some peculiar to sex, by seizing every opportunity, of themselves, of advancing the sacred cause. "Theirs," he remarks, "is the theirs it is to turn, by winning ac custody and care of the infant mind; cents, the sternest hearts in alliance with thein. Let them not lose these

Dorine the hypostatical uni opportunities of doing good. Let

on is wielded, to blunt the edge of the plainest arguments in favour of the Unitarian creed, and that the doctrine of two natures in Christ is,

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them not think that they are unconcerned in religious matters, or that a want of that modesty, which is allowed to be one of their brightest

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ART. VI.-Extracts from the Diary of the late Michael Underwood, M.D., consisting of Meditations, Critical and Practical Remarks on various Passages of Scripture, Miscellaneous Essays, and Occasional Hymns. Published for the benefit of his Widowed Daughter. 12mo. pp. 170. Hatchard and Son. 1823. HE introductory pages to this

fully to reflect on the vicissitudes of human life. Dr. Underwood, who had been many years a surgeon, "having," as his biographer informs us, "changed his line of practice, and evinced great skill as PhysicianAccoucheur, gradually rose to eminence in that department, and was so fortunate as to enjoy the friendship of the late Dr. Warren, who, shortly after the marriage of H. R. H. the Prince of Wales (now George IV.) kindly introduced him at Carlton House, on which he received the high appointment of Physician to the Princess of Wales, and in January, 1796, had the honour of presiding as Accoucheur, at the birth of the muchlamented Princess Charlotte.

'

Having been brought thus conspicuously into notice, his practice rapidly increased in the higher circles of the metropolis, and the road to wealth was opened before him with all its allurements.

"While thus basking in the sunshine of prosperity, an accumulation of domestic afflictions, excited a high degree of nervous irritation, which, acting on a frame naturally weak, produced a dreadful depression of spirits, he imagined himself incapable of discharging the arduous duties of his profession; and in the year 1801, resolved to withdraw himself

from all further practice, and pass the remainder of his days in entire seclusion from society.

"Thus were the worldly prospects of his family suddenly clouded, and all their flattering anticipations of the future for ever destroyed." (Pp. xvii. xviii. of Prefatory Remarks.)

His object in presenting these "Extracts," &c. to the public, we give in the words of the benevolent Editor:

"It is confidently hoped that the friends of the late Dr. Underwood, and more especially those in the profession, who are acquainted with the estimable works which he published on the Diseases and Disorders of Children,' &c., an

widowed daughter, who now stands in need of the benevolent exertions of her friends. She is in her fiftieth year, and is borne down by an accumulation of troubles, arising partly from the loss of relatives and friends, and partly from serious mental debility, which frequently incapacitates her for the humble and precarious employment of needle-work, in which she is at other times engaged. Thus reduced, she has at length consented to make an appeal to the liberality of her friends, and humbly to solicit their kind support of the publication now her to raise a small sum to provide her projected, which she hopes will enable with a few comforts in the decline of life. The situation of the applicant is the more painful to her feelings from the recollection of those enjoyments, and even indulgences, which, in the plenitude of her father's fame, she had the happiness to experience."

The work before us shews that Dr. Underwood, whether depressed by feelings of despondency or animated by joyous sentiments, whether subjected to the trials of adversity or the still more dangerous trials of prosperity, was a man of sincere and deep piety. His creed was highly Calvinistic, but the inconsistencies which appear in various passages prove the difficulty of keeping an ingenuous mind completely under the trammels of system.

POETRY.

LINES,

By the late Dr. John Aikin, to Mr. Wakefield_on_his_Liberation from Prison, with Mr. Wakefield's Reply.

[From Memoir of John Aikin, M. D. By Lucy Aikin. 2 Vols. 8vo. 1823. Vol. I. pp. 236-238.]

TO GILBERT WAKEFIELD, A.B.

Pure light of learning, soul of generous mould,
Ardent in Truth's great cause, erect and free,
Welcome, O welcome! from thy prison gloom,
To open air and sunshine, to those boons
Which Nature sheds profuse, while tyrant Man,
"Drest in his brief authority," and stern
In all the little jealousy of pow'r,

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Restricts the bounty of a Father's hand,

And scants a Brother's bliss.--But now 'tis o'er,
And social friendship and domestic love

Shall pour their healing balm; while conscious worth
With noble scorn repels the sland'rous charge,
That brands imprudence with the stamp of guilt.
Meantime disdain not, learned as thou art,

To scan this world's great lesson: high-raised hopes
Of Justice seated on the throne of Pow'r,
Of bright Astrea's reign reviv'd, and Peace,
With heavenly Truth and Virtue by her side,
Uniting nations in a band of love,

Have faded all to air; and nought remains
But that dire law of force, whose iron sway
The sons of men through every blood-stain❜d age
Has ruled reluctant. When that sage benign,
The Man of Nazareth, preach'd his gentle law,
And listening crowds drank honey from his tongue—
When Mars, Bellona, and the savage rout
Of Gods impure and vengeful, shrunk to shades,
And rescued Man adored a common Sire;
Who could refrain to hail the blessed time
Of swords to sickles turn'd, of general good
Pour'd in full streams through all the human tribes,
And shared alike by all? But ah! how soon
The glorious prospect darken'd! When the cross
Gleam'd direful 'mid the host of Constantine,
And took the eagle's place-when mitred priests
Mimick'd the flamen in his mystic pomp,
And proudly bent around a despot's throne;
Then, whilst the name at Antioch first rever'd
Ran conquering thro' the world, it lost its sense,
And join'd in monstrous league with all the crimes
That force, and fraud, and lawless lust of sway
Inspir'd to plague mankind. Then, Gospel-rules
Were held an empty letter; and the grave
And specious commentator well could prove
That such an holy, humble, peaceful law
Was never meant for empire. Thus relaps'd,
The human brute resumed his native form,
And prey'd again on carnage.

Cease then, my Friend, thy generous, hopeless aim, Nor to unfeeling Folly yield again

Her darling sight, of Genius turn'd to scorn,
And Virtue pining in the cell of guilt.

Desert no more the Muse: unfold the stores

Of fertile Greece and Latium; free each gem

From the dark crust that shrowds its beauteous beams,
And fair present them to th' admiring eye
Arranged in kindred lustre. Take serene
The tranquil blessings that thy lot affords,
And in the soothing voice of friendship drown
The groans, and shouts, and triumphs of the world.
TO JOHN AIKIN, M. D.

Next to that first of comforts to the soul,
The plaudit of a conscience self-approv'd,
AIKIN! I deem the gratulation sweet
Of sympathising friendship, and a Muse
Terse, uncorrupt, ingenuous, bold and free;
A Muse from whom nor titled grandeur bribes,
Nor pamper'd wealth, a sacrificial strain.
Hence, with sensations bland of conscious pride
I feel the manna of thy tuneful tongue
Drop medicinal influence on my breast,
Ruffled, not torn, by Persecution's blast.
Thus, after chilling frost, morn's genial ray
Invigorates, cheers, expands, the shrivell'd flower:
Thus the broad mountain flings his cooling shade
O'er the faint pilgrim in a thirsty land.
Oh! may thy friend, as in the noon of life,
Responsive to the calls of Truth and Man,
Self in benevolence absorb'd and lost,
Thro' the short remnant of his closing day,
With brave defiance, or with calm disdain,
Front the grim visage of despotic power,
Lawless, self-will'd, fierce, merciless, corrupt;
Nor, 'midst the applauses of the wise and good
Lose the fond greetings of a Muse like thine!

LINES,

On reading some Poetry by a Young Lady, now no more.

Before the touch of the Autumn's breath
The fairest leaves are the first to fall;
And before the blight of the breeze of death,
Bright spirits wither the first of all.
Green and fresh as the spirit may seem,
No evergreen bore the graceful leaf;
And the life of the lov'd is a golden dream,
From which the sleeper awakes to grief.
Yet, Oh, let us think, while with tears we see
The young heart droop to an early grave,
That it falls like the bloom from Eden's tree,
In "the pearly waters" of bliss to lave.
Sweet spirit! from scenes of care and pain
Thou hast flown to the beautiful bowers above,
Where the loving shall meet the lov'd again,

And dwell with the God whose name is Love.

'Tis to lives like thine that we sadly turn,

To see how the light of the heart may shine, And these are so few, that the more we mourn The blight of a lily so chaste as thine.

Oh, may all who mourn thee the path pursue, Which thy young feet here in meekness trod, Till they pass, like thee, this vain life through, To the home of the pure-the land of God!

- Sept. 26, 1823.

OBITUARY.

1823. Aug. 13, at Pittsburgh, United States, Mr. GEORGE Courtauld, late of Braintree, Essex.

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17, after a short illness, at Thick thorn, near Ilminster, Somerset, aged 70, the Rev. THOMAS THOMAS, for twentytwo years minister of the Dissenting congregation worshiping in the Old Meeting at Wareham, Dorsetshire, which situation he relinquished twelve months ago. Mr. Thomas was brought up at Daventry, under Dr. Ashworth, and had for his class-fellow and friend the late Thomas Northcote Toller, of Kettering, Northamptonshire. Upon finishing their aca demical course these gentlemen were both settled in congregations, Mr. Toller at Kettering, and Mr. Thomas within a few miles from his friend, at Welling borough. And it was a source of mutual satisfaction that the vicinity of their situations afforded them the opportunity of cherishing the friendship of their early years by frequent intercourse. During Mr. Thomas's residence at Wellingborough he was much esteemed and beloved by the society of which he was pastor, and experienced from some of its wealthier members a kindness and attention which are somewhat rare in the history of Dissenting congregations. But the respect in which he was held was not confined to his hearers. By the Dissenters of the county in general he was justly regarded as one of the most able and intelligent among their ministers. At Wellingborough he resided between ten and twenty years, and there, perhaps, he might have finished his days had not a sudden and cruel disappointment, in a

I find, on looking at Mr. Belsham's List of the Daventry Students, (Mon. Repos. XVII. p. 196,) that they finished their academical course under Dr. Ashworth's successor, Mr. Robins; a man whose name, no one that knew him, will ever mention without a feeling of the highest respect.

matter which lay nearest to his heart, determined him to quit the neighbourhood for ever. When the peace of his mind was sufficiently restored to allow him to resume the regular exercise of his profession, he was settled at Enfield, Middlesex. There he did not remain many years, but upon marrying a lady of his congregation removed to Wareham, where he was respected by men of every denomination, and where he has left behind him the affectionate remembrance of those amongst whom he laboured.

In point of talents Mr. Thomas was very respectable; and he had so far cultivated a literary taste as to find in it a source of interesting amusement. In his religious sentiments he was what is commonly termed moderate, but perhaps with some peculiarities of opinion which would not have allowed him to class himself decidedly with any party. But whatever were his views on doctrinal subjects, he was too deeply impressed with the value of practical principles to attach an undue importance to matters of speculation, which do not seem to bear on the great life. As a Christian minister he was ar object of religion-a virtuous and holy dently solicitous to promote the best interests of his hearers; as a man he was a

pattern of every thing that is upright, honourable aud benevolent; he had a heart that was warm with the kindest affections, and a generosity of spirit which raised him far above every thing artful, mean or selfish. But what chiefly distinguished him from almost every other man was a singular delicacy of mind, and a peculiar refinement of feeling in every thing that concerned the feelings of others. He behaved to every man as though every man's sensibilities answered to his own, and was careful to excess, if there can be excess in that which is so amiable, to do nothing, even in trifles, which might appear to indicate an indifference to the pleasure or comfort of another.This brief but just tribute of respect is paid to his character by one who knew him upwards of forty years,

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