cipline; still less would we turn advocates for the revival of the habits of those days of "decline and fall," when empty sophists made the Forum and the Academy resound with their idle and insipid declamations. Nor do we lament the decay of those schools of the middle ages in which professors of rhetoric inculcated former rules instead of furnishing brilliant examples. We should, on the contrary, exceedingly regret the introduction of an artificial system into pulpit education or exercises; it would be in direct opposition to that "plainness of speech" which was the aim of St. Paul, and at entire variance with the character and the end of Gospel-preaching. At the same time we think that something might be accomplished in the way of improvement, by a more frequent and steady reference to certain important elements, and to certain distinctions at least of equal importance. For instance, simplicity, while it claims to be taken as the least dispensable element of elocutionary composition, may be violated in any other species of oratory, with more impunity than in addresses from the pulpit. For this two reasons may be assigned, the first, drawn from the nature of the communication, the second, from the character and condition of the individuals to whom it is made. When the occurrences of a mixed and transitory state of things-the peculiarities of scenery and circumstance the play of man's affections, or the tempest of his passions when these varieties of a present and inferior interest are in question, it may be quite compatible with good taste and right feeling to mingle with them the ornaments of fancy, the charm of descriptive colouring, the different forms, or even the caprices, of language and style. But when a loftier theme is appealed to, and a more powerful chord struck,

these tricks of composition seem to be altogether out of place. When the dread realities of an eternal state, the awful secrets of the future world, the revelation of man's immortal destiny as connected with his condition in time- when these emphatic verities are held forth to man's reception, it does appear to us that the only style that can be deemed suited to the majesty of the communication, is the simple and severe. And when we further consider the mixed character of those to whom the word of life is preached; the widely different degrees of intellect and cultivation, the distinct shades of disposition and feeling, the varieties of circumstance, moral, social, and corporeal, all, however, involved in one common calamity, and all agreeing in one great exigency-we shall be satisfied, that, having the same message to deliver to all, it should be conveyed in terms that all may understand.

But, in addresses from the pulpit, there are not only certain leading principles to be kept in view, there are also important distinctions which it is expedient to observe. For example, poetry and oratory are perfectly distinct from each other in their objects, and nothing can be more incorrect than to confound them with each other in composition. The design of the first is to interest and please, of the second, to persuade; and though it may be permissible for each occasionally to borrow the peculiarities of the other, in aid of some special purpose, the utmost vigilance and discretion will be required to prevent excess and abuse. We could cite many illustrations of the injurious effect of want of discrimination in this particular, but the instances of failure are too readily found to need specific reference. Nothing is more ensnaring to a public speaker than an over active imagination. Cicero himself gave way, at times, to its

seductions; Jeremy Taylor was led astray by it continually, as by a meteor of the night; and Burke has left a brilliant, but most dangerous example, which has been too much followed in our own time.

Dr. Chalmers has not been free from error in both the points to which we have directed our observations. He is, we conceive, essentially a poet, incidentally an orator. We do not inquire whether he have any facility in rhyming; he may or he may not, be skilful in the mechanical construction of verse, but his works abundantly prove him a man of rich and poetic fancy. Happily, in addition to this, he is a powerful reasoner, and the junction of these two qualities has given a singular piquancy and attractiveness to his sermons and speeches. His most ornamented compositions are supported and strengthened by a substratum of thought and argument that effectually prevents them from exhibiting the slightest symptoms of infirmity. Still, the redundancy of his imagination has sometimes had an effect generally unfavourable, on some of his most popular productions, and we have, in consequence, been glad to observe, in his later compositions, a more sparing use of the imagery and the decorated style which, while they heightened the poetic interest of some of his former writings, tended to lower their character as examples of eloquence. The instances which occur in the present volume are both of a less obtrusive and more effective kind, while they are equal in beauty to any of his former effusions. One of the most unmixed specimens of this class is to be found in the beautiful exordium of the fourth sermon, on "The Restlessness of Human Ambition," from Psalms xi. 1. and lv. 6.

"To all those who are conversant in the scenery of external nature, it is evi

dent, that an object to be seen to the greatest advantage must be placed at a certain distance from the eye of the observer. The poor man's hut, though all within be raggedness and disorder, and all around it be full of the most nauseous and disgusting spectacles, yet, if seen at a sufficient distance, may appear a sweet and interesting cottage. That field where the thistle grows, and the face of which is deformed by the wild exuberance of a rank and pernicious vegetation, may delight the eye of a distant spectator by the loveliness of its verdure. That lake, whose waters are corrupted, and whose banks poison the air by their marshy and putrid exhalations, may charm the eye of an enthusiast, who views it from an adjoining eminence, and dwells with rapture on the quietness of its surface, and on the beauty of its outline--its sweet border fringed with the gayest colouring of nature, and on which Spring lavishes distance. It softens the harsh and disgusting features of every object. What is gross and ordinary, it can dress in the most romantic attractions. The country hamlet it can transform into a paradise of beauty, in spite of the abominations that are at every door, and the angry brawlings of the men and the women who occupy it. All that is loaththe power of distance. some or offensive, is softened down by You see the smoke arising in fantastic wreaths through the pure air, and the village spire peeping from among the thick verThe fancy of our sentimentalist swells dure of the trees, which embosom it. with pleasure, and peace and picty supply their delightful associations to complete the harmony of the picture." pp. 119, 120.

its finest ornaments. All is the effect of

Whether this is legitimate as eloquence we will not inquire, but we are sure that it is admirable description, and with its succeeding paragraph so completely the counterpart of the fine commencement of Campbell's Pleasures of Hope, as almost to tempt us to the citation of the latter. From this, however, we shall abstain; our present business is not with poetry but with divinity, and we shall travel out of the record no further than by a simple reference which our readers can examine at their leisure.

It would be saying somewhat too much, were we to express our entire accordance of view in all

us and we to them, and the misery of a heart which shall have lost its relish for them all without the substitution of some worthier object of affection, is described in vivid language; and the remedy for all these evils is distinctly and comprehensively set forth. The close of this discourse, contains one of those rich and beautiful illustrations which so frequently occur in the works of this distinguished

writer.

"Conceive a man to be standing on the margin of this green world; and that, when he looked towards it, he saw abundance smiling upon every field, and all the blessings which earth can afford, scattered in profusion throughout every family, and the light of the sun sweetly resting upon all the pleasant habitations, and the joys of human companionship brightening many a happy circle of society-conceive this to be the general character of the scene upon one side of his contemplation; and that on the other, beyond the verge of the goodly planet on which he was situated, he could descry nothing but a dark and fathomless unknown. Think you that he would bid a voluntary adieu to all the brightness and all the beauty that were before him upon earth, and commit himself to the frightful solitude away from it. Would he leave its peopled dwelling places, and become a solitary wanderer through the fields of nonentity? If space offered him nothing but a wilderness, would he for it abandon the homebred scenes of life and of cheerfulness that lay so near, and exerted such a power of urgency to detain him? Would not he cling to the regions of sense, and of life, and of society? and shrinking away from the desolation that was beyond it, would not he be glad to keep his firm footing on the territory of this world, and to take shelter under the silver canopy that was stretched over it?

"But if, during the time of his contemplation, some happy island of the blest had floated by; and there had burst upon his senses the light of its surpassing glories, and its sounds of sweeter melody; and he clearly saw, that there, a purer beauty rested upon every field, and a more heart-felt joy spread itself among all the families; and he could discern there, a peace, and a piety, and a benevolence, which put a moral gladness into every bosom, and united the whole society in one rejoicing sympathy with each other, and with the beneficent Father of them all. Could he further see, that pain and mortality were there

unknown; and above all, that signals of welcome were hung out, and an avenue of communication was made for himperceive you not, that what was before the wilderness, would become the land of invitation; and that now the world would be the wilderness?

What un-/ peopled space could not do, can be done by space teeming with beatific scenes, and beatific society. And let the existing tendencies of the heart be what they may to the scene that is near and visibly around us, still if another stood revealed the channel of faith, or through the to the prospect of man, either through

channel of his senses-then, without violence done to the constitution of his moral nature, may he die unto the present world, and live to the lovelier world that stands in the distance away from it."-pp. 87--89.

We shall extract from the same sermon, the following clear and forcible statement of Gospel truth.

"The object of the Gospel is both to pacify the sinner's conscience, and to purify his heart; and it is of importance to observe, that what mars the one of these objects, mars the other also. The best way of casting out an impure affection is to admit a pure one, and by the love of what is good, to expel the love of what is evil. Thus it is, that the freer the Gospel, the more sanctifying is the Gospel; and the more it is received as a doctrine of grace, the more will it be felt as a doctrine according to godliness. This is one of the secrets of the Christian life, that the more a man holds of God as a pensioner, the greater is the payment of service that he renders back again. On the tenure of Do this and live,' a spirit of fearfulness is sure to enter; and the jealousies of a legal bargain chase away all confidence from the intercourse between God and man; and the creature striving to be square and even with his Creator, is, in fact, pursuing all the while his own selfishness, instead of God's glory; and with all the conformities which he labours to accomplish, the soul of obedience is not there, the mind is not subject to the law of God, nor indeed under such an economy ever can be. It is only when, as in the Gospel, acceptance is bestowed as a present, without money and without price, that the security which man feels in God is placed beyond the reach of disturbanceor, that he can repose in him, as one friend reposes in another-or, that any liberal and generous understanding can be established betwixt them--the one party rejoicing over the other to do him good-the other finding that the truest gladness of his heart lies in the impulse

of a gratitude, by which it is awakened to the charms of a new moral existence. Salvation by grace--salvation by free grace--salvation not of works, but according to the mercy of God-salvation on such a footing is not more indispensable to the deliverance of our persons from the hand of justice, than it is to the deliverance of our hearts from the chill and the weight of ungodliness. Retain a single shred or fragment of legality with the Gospel, and you raise a topic of distrust between man and God. You take away from the power of the Gospel to melt and to conciliate. For this purpose, the freer it is, the better it is. That very peculiarity which so many dread as the germ of antinomianism, is, in fact, the germ of a new spirit, and a new inclination against it. Along with the light of a free Gospel, does there enter the love of the Gospel, which, in proportion as you impair the freeness, you are sure to chase away. And never does the sinner find within himself so mighty a moral transformation, as when under the belief that he is saved by grace, he feels constrained thereby to offer his heart a devoted thing, and to deny ungodliness."-- pp. 84--86.

The eleventh discourse contains a most admirable specimen of the vigorous reduction of a high and abstract question to the clearness and tangibility of a plain matter of fact. The text is from the 27th chapter of the Acts, and from the 22d and 31st verses placed in juxtaposition. Every attentive reader of the Bible will have been forcibly struck with the elucidation afforded by the circumstances of the Apostle Paul, and his companions, to the compatibility of strenuous exertion with the most entire belief in the doctrine of Predestination. This subject is taken up by the Doctor in the sermon before us, and explained with so much distinctness, as well as urged with so much force, that we would recommend its perusal to all who feel any embarrassment on a point which sometimes occasions much perplexity to sincere and simplehearted Christians. The opening is excellent.

"The comparison of these two verses lands us in what may appear to many to

be a very dark and unprofitable speculation. Now, our object in setting up this comparison, is not to foster in any of you a tendency to meddle with matters too bigh for us; but to protect you against the practical mischief of such a tendency. You have all heard of the doctrine of predestination. It has long been a settled article of our church. And there must be a sad deal of erasion and of unfair handling with particular passages, to get free of the evidence which we find for it in the Bible. And independently of Scripture altogether, the denial of this doctrine brings a number of monstrous corruptions along with it. It supposes God to make a world, and not to reserve in his own hands the management of its concerns. Though it should concede to him an absolute sovereignty over all matter, it deposes him from his sovereignty over the region of created minds, that far more dignified and interesting portion of his works. The greatest events in the history of the universe, are those which are brought about by the agency of willing and intelligent beings, and the enemies of the doctrine invest every one of these beings with some sovereign and independent principle of freedom, in virtue of which it may be asserted of this whole class of events, that they happened, not because they were ordained of God, but because the creatures of God, by their own uncontrolled power, brought them into existence. At this rate, even he to whom we give the attribute of omniscience, is shall be the fortune or the fate of any innot able to say at this moment, what dividual, and the whole train of future history is left to the wildness of accident. All this carries along with it so complete a dethronement of God-it is bringing his creation under the dominion of so many nameless and undeterminable contingencies-it is taking the world and the current of its history so entirely out of the hands of him who formed it--it is withal so opposite to what obtains in every other field of observation, where, instead of the lawlessness of choice, we shall find that the more we attend, the more we perceive of a certain necessary and established order-that from these and other considerations which might be

stated, the doctrine in question, in addition to the testimonies which we find for it in the Bible, is at this moment

receiving a very general support from the speculations of infidel as well as Christian philosophers.

"Assenting, as we do, to this doctrine, we state it as our conviction, that God could point the finger of his omniscience to every one individual amongst us, and tell what shall be the fate of each, and the place of each, and the state of suf