advantages afforded by such publications in general: but when promulgated as abettors in the dissemination of religious principle, their effects are much more powerful and permanent: many are accustomed to peruse a reposito ty," or a" magazine," in which religious tenets are inculcated and defended, who would never be persuaded to turn over the pages of a ponderous folio on theology, or even thoroughly to examine a set of articles, or a confession of faith. Thus they insensibly imbibe the spirit of the work which they may be accustomed to peruse, and are instructed in the ground-work of their profession, and established in their opinions. Others, who may have conceived some dislike to the tenets of any particular profession of faith, and would be unwilling properly to examine the points of controversy in works expressly on the subject, would, by means of this interesting form, be induced to examine that for themselves, which otherwise they would have been content to reject as the report (possibly misrepresentation) of others, and probably at length espouse the very cause they formerly detested. what she is. With her, to be known is to prosper. The foregoing reflections were occasioned by intelligence-it is feared but too correct-that two of these valuable aids of our church were about to be discontinued for want of support. Can it be that the members of our church will suffer these, her acknowledged defenders and supporters, to languish and expire for want of encouragement? Is it possible that among her numerous clergy, most respectable for talent and learning, none can be found who will devote a scanty portion of their time and talent to this popular mode of inculcating the articles of that faith and worship which they have engaged with their utmost abilities to support? or is it that her lay members have so little relish for her doctrine, or so little zeal for her support, that they will withhold their mite of pecuniary assistance, for which, it is to be supposed, an ample remuneration will be afforded? We would hope for better things: we would fain believe that some more creditable causes have occasioned this melancholy defitieney, but are unable to satisfy ourselves in any manner. R. U. To the Editor of the Christian Guardian. SIR, THE following brief sketch of the Christian religion is a copy of a manuscript now in my possession, which I believe has never been printed. Though made as concise as possible, it is intended to include the chief peculiarities of the Christian revelation. The arguments which support that revelation, and which require us to bow to it with implicit submission, are here supposed to be known and admitted. It is not expected, that this brief sketch will either produce conviction in the mind, or promote vital religion in the heart, unless the references be carefully consulted with humble, fervent, and persevering prayer for divine teaching. These advantages, and others perhaps more important, have been long Brief sketch of the Christian Religion. perceived, and cultivated, by sectarians of every class, who have never failed most assiduously to disseminate their opinions by means of periodical publications decidedly espousing their cause. If then such advantages are attendant on this class of writings--if they are so largely used by others in support of principles which we believe to be less agreeable to primitive discipline and doctrine, is it not incumbent upon churchmen to endeavour, as much as in them lies, by this means to spread the pure and primitive worship of our church? Should they not, while secta rians are daily by this, among other methods, endeavouring to undermine her solid foundations, be at least equally active in her defence? They have this additional encouragement to the exertion, that our church has no need of dissimulations and equivocations to support her doctrines, as at all times it has been her principal interest and endeavour to be known as she is, and for 1. The fall of man, and the inherent depravity of the human race consequent on that fall, (Gen. i. 27; Eccles. vii. 29; Rom. v. 12; Article ix.) a depravity involving so much mental dark 2. A Saviour provided, (John iii. 16, 17; xiv. 6; 1 John iv. 9,) whose atonement by death upon the cross possesses sufficient virtue to absolve from all guilt, (compare Heb. x. 4, 10, with ix. 14; 1 John i. 7; ii. 1, 2,) and whose grace has sufficient energy to destroy the natural enmity of the carnal mind, and to make fallen man partaker of that new and divine nature, without which no man can see the Lord (John iii. 3,5; Heb. xii. 14; 2 Pet. i. 3, 4.) It may be proper to observe, that this all sufficient Saviour, (Isa. lxiii. 1; 1 Cor. i. 30; Heb. vii. 25,) uniting in his own person the divine and human natures, (John i. 1, 14, 16; Phil. ii. 6, 8,) possesses, in consequence of the former, the power to become substitute for the guilty, (John x. 15, 18;) whilst his human nature enables him to make atone ment in that nature which sinned, and to sympathize in the trials of those whom he has undertaken to redeem (Heb. ii. 10, 14, 18; iv. 15.) Such a Saviour provided, we learn, 3. The necessity of a personal interest in him, in order to our accept ance with God, (Acts iii. 18, 23; iv. 12; John iii. 18, 36; 1 John v. 12; Article xviii.) a blessing which cannot be obtained by any works of righteousness, because none are in our power (Gal. iii. 21, 22; collect, second Sunday in Lent-nineteenth Sunday after Trinity; homily for Whitsunday;) nor by any qualifications of which we can possess ourselves to make us fit objects of the divine favour; because the Saviour was promised on the ground both of man's actual exposure to condemnation, (Gal. iii. 10,) and of his total inability in any way to save himself (Luke xix. 10; Rom. iii. 20; viii. 3.) Even the plea of sincere, instead of perfect obedience, in point of justification before God, is an acknowledgment of defect which destroys all claim to eternal life, since it is written, that he who offends in one point is guilty of all, (James ii. 10,) and the holiness of God is such as to forbid his receding from the strictness of the requirement, "Do this and live" (Gal. iii. 11, 12; Rom. xi. 6.) A personal interest in the Saviour, whereby are insured to us every spiritual and eternal blessing, is therefore the effect alone, 4. Of faith, (Rom. iv. 5-10; Acts xiii. 38, 39; Gal. iii. 26; Article xi. ;) which faith is the gift of God (Eph. ii. 8; Phil. i. 29; Heb. xü. 2,) yet acquired in hearing and reading God's word, (Rom. x. 11,17,) and in answer to humble, persevering prayer (Mark ix. 24; Luke xvii. 5.) This faith, wrought in us by the spirit of God, (2 Cor. iv. 13,) gives, 5. Pardon of sin and peace of conscience, (Rom. v. 1; Isaiah lvii. 21; Eph. i. 6, 7,) because it leads us to rely on the finished work of the Saviour; and teaches us to seek our peace where God finds satisfaction made to his justice in that obedience unto death of the Lord Jesus, which forms a perfect expiation of our transgressions of his holy, just, and immutable law, and establishes that law in all its spirituality and extent, as an equitable rule in the moral government of his creatures (Rom. iii. 23-31; Isaiah xlii. 21; 2 Cor. v. 21.) 7. Holiness of heart and life, as produced by the Holy Spirit, the purchase, the promise, the gift of the Saviour, (Luke xi. 13; John xvi. 7, 14; Rom. viii. 9; Eph.i. 13,) the great design of whose agency is to enlighten the mind, (1 Cor. ii. 10-14; Eph. i. 18; Whitsunday collect;) to renew the heart, (Ezek. xxxvi. 26, 27; collect for Christmas day;) to regulate the conduct, (Rom. viii. 1; iv. 14; collect, ninth Sunday after Trinity;) and thus to prepare us for glory (Rom. viii. 23; xiv. 19.; Gal. vi. 8; Col. i. 8—12; Art. xvii.; collect, Sunday after Ascension day.) Such, it is presumed, forms a correct though brief statement of Christianity, as comprehending the great doctrines of original and actual sin, justification by faith, regeneration by the Holy Spirit, adoption into the family of God, personal progressive sanctification, full and eternal salvation. According, then, to this view of di vine truth, the Christian indeed must be a peculiar character: he must have been humbled under a sense of his guilt and depravity, (Rom. vii. 9,24;) he must have fled from the wrath to come for refuge to the hope set before him in the atonement, intercession, and grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, (Heb. vii. 18; 1 Pet. ii. 24, 25;) he must have seen the equity of the requirement to become a new creature, (Rev. xxi. 27; Ezek. xviii. 31, 32; Rom. xii. 1, 2; 2 Cor. v. 17;) and felt his need of the Holy Spirit (Eph. ii. 1, 5; John vi. 63; Rom. vi. 4, 14.) He must have sought these blessings by earnest and instant prayer, in patient meditation on the word of God, and in the diligent use of all the means of grace; and having obtained pardon, peace and strength, he is induced and enabled to run the way of God's commands with alacrity and perseverance; not as one who like a bondservant is working for a reward; but as one who like a child to a tender parent is actuated by the most ingenuous dispositions. His life is a life of penitence, faith, and love. His penitence is daily excited by a sense of his deficiencies both in the inward graces of the soul, and the outward tenour of his conduct; his faith is kept in exercise by a daily need of pardoning mercy and sanctification; and his love prompts the inquiry, What shall I render unte the Lord for all his benefits done to me, in the pardon of sin, in the gift of his Spirit, in the sense of his favour, in the hope of his glory? An inquiry which leads him to renounce the maxims of the world as if at variance with the will of his heavenly Father, which prepares him to pass "through honour and dishonour, through evil report and good report," in the performance of every good work; and which fills him with all those graces and fruits of righteousness whereby the moral image of the Saviour is reflected in his people, the honour and glory of God promoted in the world, the souls of his fellow-creatures benefited, and a meetness for the inheritance of the saints in light matured, and perfected. So that, notwithstanding the constant struggle against sin and corruption within him, and his natural weakness and insufficiency, and his total renunciation of all dependence on himself, and all claim of merit in any of his services, he actually is the only character distinguished for real piety and usefulness. Where nothing of this character is formed, there can be no hope of salvation; and every consideration which the shortness of time and the nearness and duration of eternity can excite, urges an immediate compliance with the divine admonition, "Seek ye the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near." May God grant that this may be productive of beneficial effects in awakening some careless sinner to the way of the Lord! I remain, sir, your most obedient humble servant, MONITEUR. From the Portsmouth Journal. the sovereignest thing i' the world Is 'permacety for an inward bruise.-Shaks. Mr. EDITOR-I am told it is the boast of the common law, that there is no wrong without a remedy. As you are supposed to have some knowledge of the laws under which we live, I take the liberty of laying before you the following case, to which I crave your immediate attention. The grievance, of which I complain, is the unrelenting persecution of my good-natured friends, in the way of medical advice. It has already reduced me to a skeleton, and if I have no relief, it will, in three weeks more, bring me to the grave. I am—or rather a month ago I was-a young man in good health and cheerful spirits. It is true, I was never robust and athletic: but on the other hand, I have seldom been visited with sickness. I am engaged in a business which gives me a comfortable support, and leaves me some leisure for the cultiva tion of letters, and the enjoyment of society. I passed my days in a state of enviable happiness, till one fatal morning some of my kind friends fancied that I looked sick.-From that hour my days were numbered. I am even now hastening to the tomb. On one of the bright mornings which we had in June, and after a warm night, I rose from bed somewhat languid, and a little paler than usual. After sipping a cup of tea for breakfast, I was walking slowly through Market-street, with my hands behind me, enjoying the pure breeze which was beginning to blow from the northwest; when I was met by two friends, who stopped and exchanged with me the compliments of the day. Methinks you look a little pale, said one; you had better try a cold bath. Nothing invigorates the frame like a salt-water bath. Provided it be a shower bath, interrupted the other. But in my opinion nothing is so fatal to health as plunging the whole body into cold water. It checks perspiration-impairs digestion -produces cramp-and Good morning, I exclaimed, rather abruptly; I believe I shall try neither at present. Continuing my walk a few minutes longer, I called at the house of a friend, with whom I was in habits of familiar intercourse. I found him at breakfast with his family. His wife, a fine motherly looking woman, with a large shawl thrown over her shoulders to protect her from the morning air, was pouring out the coffee; while the eldest daughter was watching a little urchin, whose ruddy cheeks and laughing blue eyes showed how much comfort he derived from the huge bowl of bread and milk he was in the very act of devouring. In the simplicity of my heart, I related the conversation I just had in the street. My friend shook his head slowly, and fixing his eyes upon me with a very so lemn expression: "There is something in it. You are sick, my dear fellow. You must ride on horseback.” You must drink pearl ash and cider in the morning to give you an appetite, added his wife. You should drink milk, exclaimed the daughter, looking significantly at the chubby cheeks of her little brother. Tansy and wormwood pounded together, is a thousand times better, said a maiden aunt-at the same time laying down her knitting. Take a little tansy. Spearmint is better, interrupted the mother anxiously. A little tansy, I say, and fresh rue, resumed the aunt- Yes, and catnip, said the daughter; aunt Dorothy always uses catnip. My dear ladies, I exclaimed, spare me, I am not sick, and Come, said my friend, who had now finished his breakfast, and perceiving that I had with difficulty kept my countenance during these various prescriptions-I will walk with you: and taking me by the arm, we set forth together. "How are you, my good fellow ?” was the rough salutation of the first man we met. It was captain X. My friend replied to his greeting very cordially: but shook his head as he looked at me. Aye-I see how it is, said capt. X.Poor fellow-consumptive. But never mind, take a voyage, and all will be well. I thanked him for his kindness, and passed on: and for the first time in my life began to fancy that I felt something that was a little like a pain in my side but I was not certain. A few steps onward we met Mr. Q. long, lank, and lean, the very image of famine. He accosted us with a languid bow, and glancing his eyes at me,"A fine morning this, sir, especially for those who, like you and I, are dying of dyspepsia life. Dyspepsia! sir-I never had it my Ah, I understand. You are a bon vivant, and you cannot bear to be de prived of the pleasures of the table. But you must come to it. You must take prepared chalk and rhubarb every morning for breakfast, and drink liquid magnesia instead of coffee. At dinner, you must eat only an ounce of beef and half a cracker; but at supper you may indulge freely in lime water. Lewis Cornaro, sir Was a model beyond my imitation, I exclaimed somewhat pettishly-and passed on. I was by this time near the door of Mr. B.-and seeing the bright eyes of Mary at the parlour window, I ventured, though it was early, to make a call upon her, As I turned to the door, a chaise that was passing raised a cloud of dust, that filled for a moment my eyes and throat. I entered the room with a slight cough. Ah, that cough of your's, said Mary's mother-it will bring you to the grave. Nothing but the dust, said I. This answer seemed to awaken all her sympathy. She said something about the flattering nature of certain disorders, and proceeded at once to get me a dose of Balsam Tolu. Her kindness was so importunate, that resistance was vain; I took the glass, and was in the very act of raising it to my lips, when the door opened, and three ladies entered, two of them with black hoods, and the third with spectacles. I am a lost man! I muttered to myself. But Mary was near, and I thought I read in her eyes some hope of life. One of the black hooded ladies immediately addressed me. You do well to take care of yourself, sir. You look as if your lungs we affected. Have you ever tried onion tea? Never, madam; I am not sick, and I detest onions. Ah, you must not be too squeamish, where health is at stake. Three tumblers of onion tea, taken hot, every forenoon, at 11 o'clock, would soon relieve you. There is no trouble in it. Take only a peck of onions And make them into a good poultice, interrupted the other black hood, and wear them upon your breast all the time, and you will soon be well. Nothing opens the pores, and relieves a cough, like an onion poultice. I turned a despairing eye upon Mary. An onion poultice, and a morning call! Shade of Esculapius! If you talk of poultices, said she with the spectacles, my prescription is buttercups and vinegar. Take a handful of buttercups— And drink rosemary and honey, said the first black hood. That is good, said the second, but butter and molasses is better. Or flaxseed tea, said Mary's mother. Or wheat-bran, said Mary, with boiling water poured over it, and sweetened with loaf-sugar. You love wheatbran, I know. There was a little archness in her manner that led me to suspect she was not above half serious. I made her a lowly bow, in token of acknowledg ment. As I slowly raised my head, I perceived that the lady with spectacles was regarding me very earnestly. Poor young man! how feeble! you Dont sport with human life, said the second black hood, gravely. Your friend here must be careful, or he is not long for this world. But if he follow my prescriptions— If he will follow mine, interrupted Spectacles-Take a wine glass of Cayenne pepper and a pint of alcohol. -And by all means bottles of boiling water at your feet when you go to bed, said Mary's mother -And a flannel night-cap, said Mary. Double flannel, said the first black hood; or a petticoat would be better still. And a pair of stockings round your neck, said the second hood. Woollen stockings, added Mary. And drink during the night about two gallons of boiling cider, said Spectacles, solemnly. And a spoonful of tobacco tea every ten minutes, said Mary. Child, child! said Spectacles sharply, you talk foolishly. A poultice of burdock leaves for the feet No-rye meal and cider, interrupted the second hood. No, no-mustard seed and vinegar, said the third, eagerly. I remember that Human patience could endure no more. I started from my seat, made a hurried bow, and left the house with so much precipitation, that as I passed over the steps I stumbled and nearly fell. Have you sprained yourself? said a gentleman who was passing. If you have, take a little opodeldoc Chemical embrocation, said she with the spectacles, running to the door. Rub it with flannel, said the first black hood, pressing behind her. Take a pailful of wheat bran, said the second, coming out on the steps; mix it with boiling water, stir it well with a mould candle, and Take a walk with me to Newcastle this afternoon, said Mary. This, Mr. Editor, is but one forenoon of my miserable life. Go where I will, 47 |