| row but important sphere in which it is their province | ficial effects. We are thus admitted to the most secret to move. Christian principles and Christian feeling, in recesses of the Christian's thoughts, and learn to symfact, can never be widely prevalent in our families, until pathize with their every feeling. As specimens of the a heart-felt interest in the concerns of the soul shall judicious remarks which Mrs Huntington made, in reanimate the mothers and daughters, around and among ference to the common affairs of life, we may select the us, to exert their all-powerful influence in recommend- following:ing religion as essential to domestic comfort, and happiness, and peace. Such was the benign effect throughout her whole life, of Mrs Huntington's holy walk and conversation. She not merely professed Christianity, | but she lived a Christian; and it is impossible to peruse the brief, but touching tale, of her character and experience, without imbibing, for a time at least, somewhat of that calm, serene, and submissive spirit by which she was habitually actuated. The subject of the following Sketch was a daughter of the Rev. Achilles Mansfield, of Killingworth, in the state of Connecticut, America. She was born January 27, 1791. In early life she was characterized by the most amiable and affectionate dispositions, which, combined with the delicacy of her constitution, rendered her an object of unwearied attention and watchful care to her parents. That she was impressed with the importance of religion at a very early period, appears from a fact, to which she long afterwards adverted, that when very young she held a solemn consultation in her mind whether it was best to be a Christian then or not, and she remembered having come to the decision that it was not. This resolution, however, was not of long continuance, for it pleased God, while she was yet a child, to cause the light of divine truth to shine into her mind, and thus to call her effectually out of darkness into his marvellous light. From this time she maintained a beautiful consistency of character, until, at the age of seventeen, she made a public profession of her faith in Christ, and joined the church of which her father was pastor. In 1809 Susan Mansfield was married to the Rev. Joshua Huntington, junior pastor of the Old South Church in Boston, Massachusetts. This union was productive of much happiness to both, being hallowed by a blessing from above. She and her husband walked together as heirs of the grace of life. Every day found them advancing in the knowledge and experience of divine things. As a proof of Mrs Huntington's intimate acquaintance with her own heart, we may quote the following remarks, contained in a letter which she wrote about this time to a friend : "There is nothing so astonishing, My dear M., nothing that places the thorough, universal, and malignant depravity of our nature in so clear a point of view, as our neglecting to improve the dealings of the blessed God with us, which are all calculated to lead us to repentance, and then finding fault with him for not giving us ability to love him, (when all our inability lies in a criminal aversion, the most unreasonable and unjust, to his perfect character,) and making that inability an excuse for not loving him. Oh, could we view this subject as angels view it, and as we shall one day view it, it must fill us with wonder and astonishment -wonder at the forbearance and mercy of God, astonishment at the moral degradation and turpitude of man. When I look into my own heart, and behold those endless replyings against God which lurk there; when I think what must be the fountain from which they spring, it would seem as if I should be filled with repentance, as if I should mourn, with deep and penitential sorrow, over my unspeakabie, my amazing guilt." For two years before her marriage Mrs Huntington had kept a journal, in which she recorded, from time to time, the Lord's dealings with her. This journal she resumed some years after, under "a conviction," as she expresses it, of the expediency of taking down written memorials of special mercies." The practice has been very frequent among Christians, in all ages, and it has, no doubt, been attended with the most bene "I have had a very precious exercise this evening for me. God grant it may prove to have been genuine! I have, for some time past, been in a very worldly, carnal state, and Jehovah graciously chastised me. My trial was, in itself, a small one; but it was hard to be borne. One of my domestics treated me in an unbecoming manner, and when I expostulated with her, only continued to justify herself, and persist in her rudeness. This circumstance led me to realize, how infinitely important it is that I should ever tread in the precise path of duty, and never turn to the right hand or to the left, lest it should bring a reproach on religion. Such a sense of my multiform duties, as a head of a family, and of my entire impotence for their performance, rushed upon me, that I was almost overwhelmed. But I was enabled to go to that precious Saviour, in whom there is a sup ply for my every want. I think I was enabled to cast my naked soul upon him for wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and final redemption from sin. And oh! what a glorious method for the attainment of strength, and faith, and grace, did it appear to me; and how hateful did my lukewarmness in his service seem! I only wonder that I was not a thousand times more affected than I was. I think I was enabled to pray for the person who misused me, and to feel all enmity taken away, and a sweet spirit of forgiveness, and a desire that she should be delivered from the bondage of corruption. Indeed, it seemed as if I was filled with love for all the world. Blessed Redeemer! precious, glorious Pattern! enable me to catch something of thy spirit while sojourning in this vale of tears! And may that spirit and its divine fruits be consummated in the world of glory!" Again, speaking of domestic duties, Mrs H. observes, "When I hear females, as I sometimes do, deprecating the contractedness of domestic life, and eagerly panting after the employments and publicity of philoso phers, statesmen, and legislators, I am led to think that my life, in the little sphere of my family, must be more varied than theirs, or they could not consider the duties of the domestic circle as unimportant, or devoid of excitements. It is true, if the meed to be obtained were mere human applause, the female part of the world would have but little opportunity to shine; and might justly complain of the narrowness of their sphere, and the insignificance of their lot. But when it is considered that the quality of actions is determined by God, and that, in his view, the person who tears from his bosom a right hand sin, or performs a self-denying duty, is greater than the hero or the conqueror considered only as such, how is the case altered! how does it dignify any station which is calculated to produce these effects! The woman, therefore, who complains of the obscurity of her condition, feels and talks like a heathen She virtually professes to value the praise of men more than the praise of God; and is likely, by her impiety and folly, to forfeit both." And, once more, the importance of early education and training, is thus adverted to: "There is scarcely any subject concerning which I feel more anxiety, than the proper education of my children. It is a difficult and delicate subject; and the more I reflect on my duty to them, the more I feel how much is to be learned by myself. The person who undertakes to form the infant mind, to cut off the distorted shoots, and direct and fashion those which may, in due time, become fruitful and lovely branches, ought to possess a deep and accurate knowledge of human nature. It is no easy task to ascertain, not only the principles and habits of thinking, but also the causes which produce them. It is no easy task, not only to watch over actions, but also to become acquainted with the motives which prompted them. It is no easy task, not only to produce correct associations, but to remove improper ones, which may, through the medium of those nameless occurrences to which children are continually exposed, have found a place in the mind. But such is the task of every mother who superintends the education of her children. Add to this the difficulty of maintaining that uniform and consistent course of conduct which children ought always to observe in their parents, and which alone can give force to the most judicious discipline; and, verily, every considerate person must allow, that it is no small matter to be faithful in the employment of instructors of infancy and youth. Not only must the precept be given, 'Love not the world ;' but the life must speak the same. Not only must we exhort our infant charge to patience under their little privations and sorrows, but we must also practise those higher exercises of submission which, they will easily perceive, are but the more vigorous branches of the same root whose feeble twigs they are required to cultivate. Not only must we entreat them to seek first the kingdom of God, but we must be careful to let them see that we are not as easily depressed by the frowns, or elated by the smiles, of the world, as others. In short, nothing but the most persevering industry in the acquisition of necessary knowledge, the most indefatigable application of that knowledge to particular cases, the most decisive adherence to a consistent course of piety, and, above all, the most unremitted supplications to Him who alone can enable us to resolve and act correctly, can qualify us to discharge properly the duties which devolve upon every mother." 66 Mrs Huntington's constitution, which had never been robust, appears to have exhibited, shortly after her marriage, symptoms of a tendency to consumption. But, even under a consciousness of this, her zeal for the honour of her God only seemed to gather strength. She longed to be useful in advancing the divine glory. My lungs are very weak. I often feel great distress from very slight exertions in talking. O how do I wish that my little strength may be devoted to the glory of God; that my breath may not be wasted by idle and useless conversation! How dreadful to think that I have employed my health no better, for the best of Fathers, and in the best of causes! I long to do some good in the world. I long to be useful to my dear fellow-creatures. I long to see all engaged for God. Oh that these desires may be attained! I had some sweet freedom in prayer this morning. I felt that I could go to God, through Christ, as my Father. I think I felt something of the spirit of adoption, and saw something of the preciousness of Christ; remembered with satisfaction and thankfulness, that he had trodden the rugged path of human life, and the rough descent to the valley of death, and smoothed them both for his children; and felt as if I could follow where he had led the way." While in this state of weakness, it pleased the Almighty to withdraw from her a kind and tender parent, to whom she was fondly attached. Still she could bow with resignation to the stroke, saying, by her whole deportment on that trying occasion, "It is the Lord; let him do what seemeth to him good." "The conflict is over. My dear father, who loved me as himself, is gone, never to return! I may say with the apostle, I am troubled, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.' But the wound is deep; it can never be healed. Dear man! I dwell too much on the mere earthly circumstances of this afflicting event. I ought to look beyond the veil. His sufferings were great; it pierces my heart to think of them. But what were they to the glory now revealed? Blessed be God On Mrs Huntington's return to Boston, from attending the death-bed of her father, the pain in her side and weakness in her chest, which had so much alarmed her friends, began to develope themselves more strongly than ever. And yet she preserved the most cheerful and happy frame of mind. Many," she says in her Journal, "who have no knowledge of the subject from experience, think that religion makes men gloomy. I know nothing of such religion. How can that which prepares us for afflictions, which teaches us to expect disappointments, which lowers our calculations and desires from this world, which resolves all things, with sweet complacency, into the will of the all-wise and allmerciful Governor of the universe, which assures us that Jehovah is pledged to make all things work together for good, which gives to the soul, in this wilderness, a foretaste of heaven, and a hope attested by evidence which God himself has prescribed, of ultimate admission to the joys of his immediate presence, how can such a principle make men gloomy? It is impossible. O yes, I can say from experience, Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee; because he trusteth in thee.' So far as I can trust in God and love his will, so far I am happy. Oh for more continual, more perfect resignation and confidence! I know that what he appoints is best. May this conviction have an abiding influence upon my feelings and conduct. My soul, trust thou in the Lord for ever, for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength." 6 "In the world you shall have tribulation," was the express declaration of our blessed Redeemer to his faithful servants, while on earth, and the truth of the statement has been uniformly admitted by Christians in every age of the world. To the subject of our present sketch, however, tribulation' was more especially familiar. In addition to her own bodily ailments, which were frequent and severe, she was subjected to inany domestic trials of a kind remarkably painful. She had recently been called to mourn the loss of her father, and, in December 1817, she was deprived of her mother. The letter written to her sisters, on receiving the distressing intelligence, bears marks of a warmly pious and affectionate heart. "My dear sisters, the long expected, but melancholy and afflictive tidings of our beloved mother's dissolution, reached me on Wednesday last. The stroke has fallen, and we are without a parent. But the Psalmist says, 'When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.' Oh to be taken up, to be adopted, taken into God's family; to have him exercise over us the endearing, the watchful, the vigilant attention and care of an omniscient and Almighty Parent! But in order to this, something is necessary on our part. As God promises to be the husband only of the widow indeed,' so he promises to be the father only of the orphan indeed; of those who, disclaiming all other dependance, fly to him, through Jesus Christ, as their best, their only portion; who feel the vanity of all human helpers; who love him with a filial and holy love; and who manifest their attachment by a hatred of sin which he hates, by a pursuit of the holiness he enjoins, by a life of unreserved obedience to his law. For how can we love God, if we are careless of offending him? How can we for a moment think we love him, if we allow ourselves in any thing he hates? This is the love of God, that we keep his commandHe that saith, I know him, and keepeth not his commandments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him.' My dear sisters, can we, with these passages of ments. Scripture before us, appeal to our Master and future | Judge, as Peter did, and say, Lord, thou knowest all things, thou knowest that I love thee?' If so, then are we the children of God, heirs of God, and joint- | heirs with Christ; then are we preparing for heaven; then our God will lead us in a right way to the city of habitation; he will smooth the path of life, or give us strength to surmount every difficulty of the way, accompanying every cross with his blessing, and ultimately bring us to the heavenly Jerusalem, the inner temple of his glory, to the full and endless enjoyment of himself in heaven. "Is it so, my beloved sisters? Dust and ashes, pollution and guilt as we are, does the infinite Jehovah allow us to indulge such a hope as this! And can we live in sin? Can we live without panting after grace to glorify Him much, from whom we have received all? Can we go on day after day, and month after month, doing nothing for his glory, for his cause, for his people? Time flies. We are drawing near to eternity." Though the sphere in which Mrs Huntington's character shone in its brightest lustre was the domestic circle, she felt a sincere delight in doing "good to all as she had opportunity." She visited the humble dwellings of the poor, ministered to their wants, sym. pathized with them in their distresses, and directed their minds to the "balm in Gilead, and the physician there." An interesting case of this kind, she thus narrates :— "I called in, by accident, as we say, to-day, at a miserable-looking house, where I found a poor afflicted woman, of twenty or twenty-three years of age, whose case affected me much. She has one child three months old, and one eighteen months old; is in miserable health herself; and has an intemperate, unkind husband. She appeared broken-hearted, and almost bereft of reason. She was born in attended Mr M.'s ministry, and was once the subject of serious impressions. But an imprudent marriage has ruined her, at least for this world. She is in a wretched, dirty hovel, with her husband's father and mother, and a flock of miserable children. All of them are addicted to drink; quarrels among parents and children till midnight, are frequent. I saw only the mother-in-law. But the scene I witnessed was an emblem of hell. The poor young woman is in a state little short of despair. She says it is impossible for her to have a moment alone, and that her husband and mother-in-law will not let her read the Bible. She said to me, 'Oh! If I could go up and stay at your house but one night!' It seemed as if God had directed us to the place; I hope for good. I cannot keep this poor young creature out of my mind. If God sent us there to be the instruments of saving this soul from death, what a mercy it will be! Oh that the Redeemer would pluck this helpless one out of the jaws of the lion! The period was now fast approaching which was destined, more than all the other sorrows with which Mrs Huntington had been visited, to try her faith, and patience, and Christian resignation. Her husband's health, which had for some time been feeble, at length began to yield under the pressure of his ministerial labours. His physicians recommended a cessation from his wonted exertions, and a change of air. He accordingly set out on a journey as far as Montreal, and, for a time, felt himself considerably improved. But, in the inscrutable providence of God, he was never permitted to reach home, but died at Groton, on Saturday, September 11, tion with me at that time, worthy of being recorded as I felt it to be, I regret that I am compelled to say, has escaped my memory. I will, however, add a few ticulars, in the unconnected manner in which they occur to my recollection, par "I remember asking her, on the day succeeding the death of Mr Huntington, if it required an effort to be submissive. She answered, I am enabled to bless God, that I have not had to contend with an unbelieving thought. I would rather have endured the agony of separation, than that my dear husband should have borne it. I can truly say, 'Tis the survivor dies.'' "On another occasion she said to me, The bitterness of my grief can be known only to God and my own soul. But I think I can say, Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him,' and can lay hold on the hand that smites, for support. But, oh, the loneliness of widowhood! I am as Peter sinking in deep waters.' "The resignation and calmness she was enabled to feel, she ascribed to the mercy of God, in answer to the prayers of his dear people,' many of whom, she knew, constantly remembered her in their supplications." Her own feelings are thus recorded in her Journal:"The desolating stroke my soul was dreading, when I last wrote in this journal, has fallen upon me. Yes, it has fallen upon me; and I live. What shall I say? -The right hand of the Lord doeth valiantly, or I should now have dwelt in silence. Wonderful grace! He that hath loved me bore me through. His everlasting arm was under me. He taught and enabled me to say, Thy will be done. To him be glory. The being I loved better than myself, has left me in this wilderness. He on whom I leaned has gone over Jordan. But another arm, mightier than his, sustains me. I can say, I humbly believe with truth,-Nevertheless, I am not alone, for God is with me. And I must again cry, Grace! grace! I am a wonder to myself. Oh! the infinite grace of God! A worm is in the furnace, and is not consumed! And must I not love this 'strong Deliverer' better than all? Shall I not cheerfully give up my comforts at his command ?" And some time after we find her giving vent to her feelings, in contemplating her desolate state. "Surely I have reason, if any one has, to feel like a stranger and a pilgrim on the earth. All the ties of near relationship, my children excepted, by which I was bound to this world, have been, one after another, sundered. And now I wish never to have any of these earthly ties renewed. My relationships are in heaven; I feel a peculiar, peaceful, melancholy satisfaction in this consciousness daily. It seems like a still, small voice from the world of spirits, admonishing me to be girding myself to my journey, and setting my face homeward. It is well, Father, it is well. Only help me to cling to thee for ever; only remember me, in life, and in death; and I ask no other portion. Thou knowest best. Do with me as seemeth good unto thee." But the trials of this eminent saint of the Most High, were not yet finished. Some of her last earthly comforts were snatched from her, and she was doomed to feel the bitterest pangs which can rend a parent's heart. On the 1st of September 1821, she thus writes in her journal :— "The hand of the Lord has again touched me. On the twenty-fifth of last month, I was called home to receive the last parting sigh of my dearly beloved Joshua. Thus the fond and cherished babe left me at a moment's warning. It fell upon me like a thunderbolt.But my mind is comforted now. My child, my lamb, is in heaven. He has gone to the Saviour, who said, Father, I will that those whom thou hast given me, be with me, where I am.' Amen. Lord, help those that remain to follow!" And again on the 8th of the same month: and things which once knew him, know him no more. I find not the object I seem to be seeking. My tears flow; my heart is full; I feel almost as if there were no sorrow like my sorrow. My mind does not leave every thing here, and fasten itself on heaven, as it did when my dear husband died. I am not comfortless; but I Lave not the strong consolation' which I then had. It seems as if Joseph were not, and Benjamin were not. But, ob, let me not undervalue my remaining mercies -my pleasant children, my thousand, my unnumbered blessings !" It was deeply distressing to one of such tender affections as those which characterised Mrs Huntington, to he subjected to trials so numerous and painful. She had lost her dearest earthly friend-the companion, the husband of her youth; and now she is bereaved of a darling child, peculiarly endeared to her, as being born in her widowhood, and bearing the name of her de. reased partner. But even yet the cup of suffering, mingled by an all-wise Father, was not completely full. A few days after the death of Joshua, another child, in whom she felt a very tender interest, as having for a long time been feeble, both in body and mind, was snatched away from her, in the mysterious arrangements of Providence. On this last occasion, she thus writes:— "I live, though death has smitten another of my number. Elizabeth was taken from all her sorrows and her sufferings, eleven days after my sweet babe. I have no doubt that both these little ones are in heaven. They were given to God; and they are not, because he has taken them. As it respects Elizabeth, I can see that the dispensation, which released her from a body of disease and death, which confined and cramped all the efforts of the soul, and set the spirit free, to unfold and expand in the service of God, is a wise and merciful dispensation." Thus was Mrs Huntington, though still young in years, subjected to many severe trials, all tending to promote her advancement in holiness, and preparation for heaven. Her whole life, indeed, was chequered with varied scenes of prosperity and adversity, but she felt that she was thereby called to glorify Him, in every possible situation, "who called her out of darkness into light, and had chosen her as a vessel of mercy to shew forth His praise." But we hasten to the closing scene of this devoted woman's life. Her health, as we have already said, had, since her childhood, been delicate, and though supported under her manifold sufferings, by a strength far greater than her own, her feeble frame, at length, sunk under them. Her body, it soon became evident, was wasting under a lingering consumption. Various means were tried, to arrest the disease, but without effect. Her race was nearly run, and she appeared to be hastening to receive the prize. It may be interesting to extract from the notes of her pastor, some account of his last visits to her. Tuesday, October 28, 1823. Called on Mrs Huntington about half-past nine in the morning. Found that she had failed considerably since my last visit. To an inquiry in relation to the state of her mind since Friday, she replied, I think I have felt more of the presence of Christ than I did when I saw you last. I ave not had those strong views and joyful feelings with which I have sometimes been favoured. My mind is weak, and I cannot direct and fix my thoughts as I once could. But I think I have fled for refuge to lay hold on the hope set before me in the precious Gospel; and he who is the foundation of that hope will never forsake me.' Then, with a most interesting expression of countenance, she said, I trust we shall meet in heaven, and spend an eternity in praising our dear Redeemer.' It was replied, We shall, if we give him our hearts, and continue faithful to him unto the end.' 'I feel,' she answered, that I have been very, very unfaithful. But he is merciful, his blood cleanseth from all sin, and 6 I trust he has blotted my sins from the book of his remembrance. Oh, what should we do without Christ!" 'As much debtors,' it was remarked, to free grace at the end of our course as when we begin it' More,' she replied, far more; for we sin against greater light and love, after we are born again. Yes, it is all of free grace. If it were not, what would become of me?' It was answered, You would have perished, justly perished; but now, when you enter heaven, you will stand before the angels, a monument of God's justice, as well as of his free grace, for he is just in justifying those that believe in Jesus.' 'Yes,' she replied, what a glorious plan! what a precious Saviour! Oh, that I could love him more! Pray that I may love and glorify him for ever.' "After prayer, she said, 'I hope you pray for me at other times, as well as when you are here. Ask for me the continual presence of Christ, and that I may honour his religion to the end.' It was answered, 'We constantly remember you in our prayers: many of God's people are deeply interested for you, and are continually supplicating the throne of grace in your behalf.' 'I know it,' she replied; and that is the reason why I have been favoured with such a comfortable state of mind; for Satan has desired to have me, and to sift me as wheat. I hope they will continue to pray for me; and may God bless them with the consolations they ask for me.' It was remarked, He who said to Peter, 'I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not,' is, I trust continually interceding for you; and him the Father heareth always.' She said, 'I hope he does intercede for me; and that is one of my greatest consolations; for he will be heard. But, you know, he presents the prayers of the saints; and I want the satisfaction of reflecting, that he is continually presenting many of them in behalf of me and my dear children.' ་ "Friday, November 7. To the usual inquiry respecting the state of her mind, she said, Mrs Graham accurately describes my feelings, when she says, Thus far has the Lord brought me through the wilderness; bearing, chastising, forgiving, restoring. I am near to Jordan's flood. May my blessed High Priest, and Ark of the Covenant, lead on my staggering steps the little farther I have to go.' I have had no rapturous views of the heaven to which I hope I am going, no longings to depart. But I have generally been enabled to feel a calm submission, and to realize the fulness and the preciousness of the Saviour. I desire to feel a perfect resignation to the will of God, because it is his will. O how sweet, to be willing to be just where, and just what, God pleases! to rejoice that the Lord God omnipotent reigneth, and worketh all things after the counsel of his own will. This, in its perfection, is, I think, a principal source of the happiness of heaven. Pray that God would enable me to feel thus while suffering from weakness and pain, and entering the dark valley.' Frequently, during her sickness, she had expressed to her pastor a desire that he would, if possible, be with her in her last moments. On Thursday, December 4th, he was informed, about three o'clock in the afternoon, that she had failed greatly since morning, and would probably survive but a little longer. He immediately repaired to her residence, and found her sleeping, but very restless, and breathing with great difficulty. She continued in this state, except that respiration became constantly more difficult, through the afternoon and evening. About eleven o'clock the difficulty of breathing became so great, as to overcome the disposition to slumber. Intelligence, it was found, still remained. She was asked if she knew she was near her end.' She answered with a sign, in the affirmative. It was said, I hope you feel the presence of the Saviour sustaining and comforting you.' " She assented. Your faith and hope in him are unshaken?' Her reply was in the affirmative. A few minutes after, her sight fail ed; and, at twenty minutes past eleven, her spirit en- |garding his beloved Son, and bids his creatures tered into rest. "Her end was full of peace, Fitting her uniform picty serene. DISCOURSE. BY THE REV. Walter Weir, "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begot 1. LOVE may be either that of benevolence or of complacency; the latter presupposes some worthiness in the object beloved, the former is more purely disinterested, and is manifested towards objects unworthy in themselves. It is plain, that in this sense alone, we can understand the love of God, so graphically described in the text. We appeal both to Scripture and experience, if there is not a general apostasy of our race from God; does not the general aspect of society justify the words of the apostle, "the world lieth in wickedness ?" Is not the alienation of our race so general, so thorough, that ungodly men are said to "walk according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience." Mankind are represented as universally depraved; sin hath polluted their nature and separated their affections from God; so criminal hath our race become, that God could not, without an atonement, shew mercy to his creatures, with honour to himself, and with safety to the interests of holiness; and surely, we need scarcely say, that were a stain cast upon this attribute, his character would be degraded, his government destroyed, and his creatures lost in irremediable ruin. How admirable the scheme of mercy, to save the sinner, yet to expose the guilt and demerit of sin, and to punish it with unmitigated severity! 2. He who was given for the salvation of the world is the only begotten Son of God. At the threshold of this subject we pause, feeling the propriety of the divine command given upon another occasion, "Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground." Men have thought much on this subject, and thus have presumed to write more, although the modesty becoming creatures ought to have taught them the hardihood of attempting to comprehend what is beyond the grasp of created intellect. We know something of the perfections of God from his works, but what he is essentially, we can only learn from Revelation; and to go one step beyond the clear and explicit declarations of the Bible, is to tread on forbidden ground;-to advance one thought which is not guided, strengthened, and upheld by the dictates of Revelation, is drawing nigh to gaze, when God hath wrapt in the recesses of light inaccessible, the profound mysteries re All we beware lest, in their daring impiety, the anger God gave his best, his greatest gift: Think of the dignity of the donor,-it is he whom the heaven of heavens cannot contain. Had he deputed angels to be mediators betwixt himself and rebel man, how rich would have been his mercy, how great their condescension! And yet we see not how they could possibly have accomplished the design; but this gift is one with himself, in dignity equal, in power and glory the same, for Jesus himself assures us, "I and my Father are one." When angels sinned, God passed by them, although occupying a higher rank in the scale of creation, and encircled with the omnipotent arm of mercy the fallen race of men, that the degradation and inferiority of the object might enhance the gift bestowed. Had the Son of God come to our world attended by millions of holy angels (for these all wait upon him,) how dignified his person, how august his appearance, how gracious his design! but he came meek and having salvation, his face was marred more than any man, and his form more than the sons of men. "God spared not his own Son, but freely gave him up to the death for us all." Oh, there is indeed a mystery here beyond the conception of creatures; there issues from the cross of Christ a glory which sheds a radiance through time, which fills with joy the souls of the redeemed, and pours new lustre around the throne of God himself. Other gifts bespeak the kindness of our God, this displays the exceeding riches of his grace. God causes his sun to rise upon the evil and the good, but such is the glory of this gift, that the natural sun is lost in the effulgence of the Sun of Righteousness. God hath, in his providence, often raised up saviours to rescue their fellow-men from oppression, but in contrast with Jesus Christ, and the greatness of his work, their glory sinks into insignificancy. The Lord is kind even to the unthankful, he loads even his enemies with goodness; but this gift is beyond them all, in dignity without a parallel, in value beyond price. 3. Behold the cause of this gift. It is a fatal error to conceive of the God of love, as having been constrained to love his creatures for the sake of the mediation of his Son, for "the Father himself loved us;" the mediation of the Son of God is not the cause of his love, but his love is the cause of that mediation. Mercy springs not from the atonement of the Son of God; the river of mercy |