which proceeded out of his mouth? The author would not for the world be in the condition of that preacher whose attendants do not and cannot say, "Here the poor have the Gospel preached unto them." They not only need it, and should excite our compassion by their temporal privations and sufferings, as well as by their spiritual condition; but they are capable of understanding, and receiving, and admiring it. Learning is not necessary here. The doctrines of the Gospel are not the result of research but testimony. There are funds of good sense and good feeling in the common people, as well as in others: and they are even capable of appreciating what is truly superior in preaching, if it be properly presented and illustrated. The fault is always much more with the preacher than with them. He does not adapt himself to those he professes to teach; he does not make them his aim; he does not study them; he does not throw himself into their modes and habits of thinking and feeling; he has nothing simple and natural, in his official being. They understand and relish the Pilgrim's Progress; and the history of Joseph; and the parable of the lost sheep; and of the prodigal son. They are easily informed and impressed by the sayings of our Lord, and the language of the Scriptures, But nothing is to be done in them without excitement; and they are addressed without emotion. Their very understandings must be approached through their imaginations and passions; and they are lectured as if they had none. They are never to be starved into a surrender; and they are circumvallated and trenched at a distance. They are only to be taken by an assault; and they are slowly and formally besieged. They want familiar and seasonable imagery; and, to show the preacher's learning, they are furnished with allusions taken from the arts and sciences. They want striking sentences, and the words of the wise, which are as goads and as nails; and they have long and tame paragraphs. They only want truths to be brought home to their consciences, for they admit them already; and they are argued and reasoned into confusion, or doubt. They want precedents; and are furnished with precepts. They want instances; and they are deadened by discussions. They want facts; and are burdened with reflections, pp. xviii-xxi.

But we must now proceed to the consideration of the sermons themselves; and here it is impossible not to be struck with the happy arrangement of his subject, which has been always characteristic of our author's style. Simple, yet comprehensive, the view he takes exhibits to us the Christian in Christ, from 2 Cor. xiv. 2; in the Closet, from Matt. iv. 6; in the Family, from 2 Sam. vi. 20; in the Church, from 1 Tim. iii. 15; in the World, from John xvii. 11; in Prosperity, from Jer. xxii. 21 ; in Adversity, from Eccles. vii. 14; in his Spiritual Sorrows, from Psalm cxxxvii. 2; in his Spiritual Joys, from Neh. viii. 10; in Death, from Psalm xxxvii. 37; in the Grave, from Job xvii. 13; and, finally, in Heaven, from 2 Tim. i. 10. A course of sermons on such a subject, and by such a man as Mr. Jay, could not but be interesting to every Christian reader; and we hope it will not be long before the British public call for a second edition of a work so full of experimental and practical piety.

We cannot trace our author through the wide and beautiful range which he has taken. We can only stop for a few moments to cull some of the sweet flowers which on every side

surround us, recommending to our readers to visit the delightful spot for themselves.

The following remarks, on the all-important subject of private devotion, are deserving of serious notice. Our preacher is considering the Christian in his closet.

Wonder not, my brethren, that we bring forward this view of the Christian, so early. By this he is distinguished from the commencement of his religious concern. He soon turns aside from the vile and the vain, and bewails himself alone. They cannot enter into his feelings now. They know nothing of a broken heart and a contrite spirit, unless as a subject of wonder or contempt. He feels his sin to be a burden too heavy for him to bear, and longs for ease; but the "wide world" cannot relieve him, cannot sympathize with him, cannot direct him to " the rest and the refreshing." All great sorrow seeks solitude and silence: "He sitteth alone, and keepeth silence, because he hath borne it upon him; he putteth his mouth in the dust, if so be there may be hope." Did ever language describe the experience of the penitent so beautifully, so feelingly as the words of our heavenly bard?

:

"I was a stricken deer, that left the herd

Long since: with many an arrow deep infix'd
My panting side was charged, when I withdrew
To seek a tranquil death in distant shades.
There was I found by One, who had himself
Been hurt by the archers. In his side he bore,
And in his hands and feet, the cruel scars.

With gentle force soliciting the darts,

He drew them forth, and healed, and bade me live.
Since then-

With few associates, and not wishing more,

Here much I ruminate, as much I may,
With other views of men and manners now

Than once; and others of a life to come."

Yes, his chief business now is with God; and this is not to be managed in a crowd and as this business continues and increases through life, abstraction and retirement will always be desirable, always necessary. His religion cannot flourish-cannot live without it. pp. 30, 31.

We cannot, however, pass over this sermon with only a single quotation. The hallowed exercises of Christian solitude, the secret converse with God in the delightful privacy of the closet, the pouring out of the soul in the presence of our almighty and most merciful Father-these are subjects which can be lightly regarded only by those who never knew the power of godliness, or who, having known it, have turned aside from the holy commandment. Specially let it be remembered by the youthful minister of the sanctuary, and indeed by all ministers of the sanctuary, that it is by secret intercourse with God, by turning aside the veil and entering into the holiest by the blood of Jesus-it is thus that the soldier of the Cross must seek to fit himself for the combat, and to nerve his arm for

the battle. The weapon of " all prayer" is, next to the sword of the Spirit, the most deadly weapon that can be wielded against the rulers of the darkness of this world. That was perhaps one of the highest characters ever given of a Christian minister, which was contained in the answer of a poor Scotch woman to the inquiry "what sort of a man is your minister at the kirk?" "Ah!" replied the woman, 66 our- minister lives in heaven all the week, and comes down on a Sunday to tell us how we may get there."

Our author has handled this subject with much wisdom and piety. To the spiritually-minded reader the following quotations cannot fail to be acceptable.

*

Retirement, however, should be frequent. Yet, if you ask how frequent? I do not pretend absolutely to determine. The Scripture does not decide-as needless as the prescribing how often you should eat and drink. Your wants will regulate the one; and your love will regulate the other. Love is the Christian's grand principle; and love does not require to be bound: it is ingenuous; it is urgent; it is contriving; and will get, with all possible expedition, to its object. Besides, no rule can be laid down that will apply equally to all. There is a great difference in our conditions and our callings. At different periods too, the Providence of God may vary our duties * Christians, however, should get as much leisure for the closet, as they are able. And in order to this, they should guard against the waste of time; they should economize time; they should redeem time from indecision, and trifling, and especially from the vile and wretched consumptions of unnecessary sleep. David mentions three times a day: "Evening, and morning, and at noon will I pray, and cry aloud." Daniel observed the same rule. "He went into his house; and his windows being opened in his chamber towards Jerusalem, he kneeled upon his knees three times a day, and prayed and gave thanks before his God, as he did aforetime." This was a custom much recommended, and observed by many of our forefathers: they thought, and they wisely thought, that a few moments of retirement in the middle of the day, as well as morning and evening, tended to check temptation and vanity, and to keep the mind in the things of God. As to the particular hour, this must be a matter of discretion: only it should be as early as possible both in the morning and evening, to avoid disturbance in the one, and drowsiness in the other. I will put amusements out of the question. But if you return late from visiting, it is better to retire even late than not at all. Yet in many of these cases would it not be preferable to retire a few moments before you go? Would you be less prepared for company? Would you be less safe? Would you be less edifying?

* * *

What may be done at any time, is often done at no time: and while we have no plan or purpose, we are open to every casualty that may seize us, and turn us aside. It is therefore necessary to have appointed seasons for retirement; and desirable to adhere to them as invariably as we can. * *

* * *

There are also occasional and extraordinary calls to private devotion, when more than usual time should be allowed, that the mind may be affected with the event, and obtain the peculiar assistance the case requires. I should have a poor opinion of that Christian, who would not employ more than common retirement, when going to change his residence, his calling, his condition in life; or to take any important step, the consequences of which may affect not only his comfort, but his conduct and character for ever. When Jacob was

going to meet his exasperated brother Esau, who was coming against him with four hundred men, he was found alone wrestling with the angel. When our Saviour was going to ordain his twelve apostles," He went out into a mountain to pray; and continued all night in prayer to God." And when his hour of suffering was drawing near, we find him in the Garden of Gethsemane, and retiring three times even from his selected disciples, and praying. pp. 36-39.

We trust these devotional remarks will have prepared the way for some of a practical character. The Christian is to come forth from his closet to serve God in the family, in the church, and in the world; and we can promise our readers much pleasure, and much edification too, from the perusal of the third, fourth, and fifth lectures in this volume. But we turn to the sixth, which we should be glad to put into the hands, still more glad to write upon the hearts, of our rich professors, whom our preacher thus addresses:

It is the highest honour that can be conferred upon money that it is employed in carrying on the concerns of the Gospel. These have nobly multiplied in our day; and they occasion frequent applications to your liberality.

But surely you cannot complain of this frequency. It shews the improved state of your beloved country, religiously considered; and Christians should deem those the best times in which the best cause flousishes most. Surely you would not wish to bring back the state of things a century ago, when, for a year together, avarice and selfishness might have escaped these evangelical vexations. Have you not yourselves been accessary to this improvement? Have you not been praying that God's Kingdom may come, and that his word may have free course and be glorified? And will you complain or rejoice when those prayers are answered? When you offered them, did you suppose that what you implored was to be carried on by miracles or by means? If by means, did you stipulate in these prayers, that God should employ the instrumentality of others, and not require your own? Or, did you not mean to place yourselves at his disposal; and to ask, as the work was going on, "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" This must have been your meaning if you prayed sincerely and earnestly; and consistency requires, if you would not be condemned out of your own mouth, every sacrifice in your power. And how much is in the power of some of you! And how would your efficiency be increased, if you would be satisfied with a decent distinction above the vulgar, instead of being splendid; if you would avoid every extravagance and superfluousness in your mode of living; if you would exercise a little of that self-denial, which, after all, is the principal test of real benevolence.

Many rules have been laid down, as to the proportion of your estate or income which should be dedicated to beneficence. If conscience was not so often asleep, or if when awake it had any chance of being heard in the same hour with the love of money, the degree might safely be left to every man's own mind. Nothing however can be more just and reasonable than the injunction of the Apostle, "Let every one of you lay by him in store as God hath prospered him." This rule is, we fear, seldom observed. Yea some, by a perverse process, feel the disposition diminishing, as the ability increases. They give not only less in proportion, but less in reality than they once did. In their contributions, as well as in their qualities, there is a gradation from gold to silver, and from silver to copper. Once they hardly thought it worth while to be covetous. They had little to set up in that character with. But wealth in

creased, and they soon began to hoard. Nor is it to be supposed that their eagerness to accumulate is declining with age. The less time they have to keep, the harder they are determined to hold; for, as Young says, there is a dying grasp as well as a dying gasp.

"Of other tyrants short the strife;

But avarice is king for life:

The despot twists with hard controul
Eternal fetters round the soul."

But, with enlarged circumstances, be ye also enlarged. This is the case with a few we have the pleasure to know. Their fortune is a blessing to the neighbourhood and the nation. Their rising in life resembles the rising of the sun: the elevation illuminates and enlivens and fertilizes; and joy springs from its beams. Their wealth is like the dew, raised indeed from the earth, but only to be filtrated from its grossness, and to descend in silent refreshment, and vigour, and life. So it was with Job. He was the greatest man in the east; and he was also the most generous. pp. 184-186.

David also had acquired much wealth: *** but the design of it was not for the pleasure of possessing. It was not for his own aggrandizement, or splendour, or indulgence; or those of his household; but for a moral and religious purpose. It is a sad reflection, especially in our day, for a good man to die wealthy. But if he must die rich, let him die rich towards God. Let him not at his last hour testify only his selfish regards. Let the benefactor appear as well as the man; and the Christian as well as the friend and the relation. While he provides for his own, especially those of his own house, let him not forget the Saviour who loved us and gave himself for us; and whose cause has claims infinitely above all mortal interests. p. 188.

But we must hasten to the conclusion of this article. In doing this, we shall confine ourselves to some extracts from the eleventh lecture, entitled, "The Christian in the Grave." This sermon contains some very striking passages; and in our opinion is superior to the one which follows it, and which closes the volume. The contemplation of the Christian in heaven required an angel's mind and an angel's heart: if, therefore, our honoured preacher has a little failed when attempting so lofty a flight, he must ascribe it to his being still in the body.

Enter a church-yard. Throw your eyes over the inscribed stones, and the turfed hillocks; think of the undistinguished mass on which you tread-and then ask the question, which Jehu asked when he saw the remains of the sons of Ahab, "Who slew all these?" Why every burying-ground, according to its size, is a jail with so many cells, some holding one, and some more prisoners: and they who are lodged there are not confined in consequence of a debt due to Nature, but to the justice of God. There is no grave in heaven; there was no grave in paradise; and there would have been none in all the earth, but for sin. Man was indeed originally capable of dying, as his experience soon evinced; yet no accident without, and no malady within, would have endangered his being, or diminished his vigour, without sin. While innocent, he was immortal-not from the inherency of any immutable properties of nature, but from the divine appointment and preservation, of which the tree of life in the midst of the garden was either the means or the pledge. "The wages of sin is death." By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death came on all, because all have sinned." pp. 338, 339.

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