they will separate with a fonder regard than ever for their respective systems. But in prayer, the angry passions are hushed; each speaks simply as he feels, and as a penitent sinner utters his confessions, or as a grateful believer his acknowledgments, before "the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ," and prays for the temporal and spiritual mercies of which they mutually feel their need. Hence, as the parties do not appear to differ, it is concluded that they agree. This inference, however, by no means follows; for a closer examinationwillshew that thepetitionsofeach were imperceptibly modelled upon his own system; and that the whole strain of their prayers, though not contradictory, was perfectly distinct. They differ chiefly by omission; and by a tendency each to view only one side of the question. This may be illustrated by an example.I some time since heard two clergymen, on two successive mornings, pray with a party of friends at the usual devotions of the family. They were both men of integrity, piety, and prudence; but were, in the current, though incorrect, phraseology of the times, designated-the one a Calvinist, the other an Arminian. The prayer of my Calvinistic friend commenced with grateful adoration to God for the stability of his covenant, the unchangeableness of his promises, and the freedom of his mercy, which it exemplified in the cases of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, David, and several other scriptural characters. It went on to recite a number of the most consolatory passages of Scripture relative to the goodness of God to his people; it disclaimed all human merit, and implored that we might be kept from a self-righteous bias; it dwelt upon the character and offices of the Redeemer; it entreated the outpouring of the Holy Spirit; it prayed for a deeper insight into the doctrines of grace-that God would reveal himself to us more fully-and that we might more clearly read our title to eternal life. My Arminian friend was much edified and comforted by this prayer; which he described as highly spiritual, and as having induced him to resolve more than ever to "press forward towards the mark of the prize of his high calling of God in Christ Jesus." The prayer on the succeeding morning was to the following effect: It began with an expression of humility and awe in approaching the Divine presence; it went on to pray for the pardon of our sins, enumerating not only what are called spiritual sins, but unamiable tempers, unbecoming words, and a variety of moral offences; not of the grosser kind, to which none of the party were probably addicted, but of those into which we might be more likely to fall; in respect of which, and every other sin, our friend implored grace to contend, and strength to obtain daily victories. He further prayed that our hearts might be cleansed, and our motives purified; and that we might advance in all the graces and virtues of the Christian character, so as to adorn our holy profession, and to maintain serenity of conscience, and peaceful communion with God. He also prayed that we might become humble, gentle, and forgiving in our spirit; that we might be more diligent, self-denying, and benevolent in our conduct; that we might "work while it is called to-day," and might ever keep the glories of heaven full in our view as a constant stimulus to perseverance in our Christiau to look more humbly and implicitly to the sacrifice of his Redeemer, and to renounce every tendency to self-justification and complacency in his own attainments. It appears, then, that neither party was offended with the other; though, if we look at the general complexion of their prayers, it is impossible not to see that they secretly referred to different systems. Indeed, in some parts of each prayer, a third person might be led to suspect that each had the supposed errors of the other in his view in some of his deprecatory clauses. But if this were the case, why, it may be asked, did not the opposite party feel the force of the reference? Precisely because he did not cherish the supposed doctrine at which the deprecation was levelled. When, for example, my Calvinistic friend prayed against a selfrighteous spirit, I thought, not only from some of his expressions, but from the disproportionate length of this part of his prayer, and from the peculiar fervour with which he preached while he prayed, that he feared some of the company were a little inclined to this fault. But my Arminian friend I found entered as warmly into the petition as the speaker himself, and confessed, in subsequent conversation, how much we are all in danger of this legality of spirit; never suspecting that the prayer was intended as a sort of side-blow at his own favourite system. A similar effect followed in reference to some of the petitions of the Arminian, in which he seemed to glance at certain supposed evil tendencies of the Calvinistic hypothesis. Had I selected a stronger case, I might have proved still more fully the difference between what I have ventured to denominate a Calvinistic and an Arminian prayer. I have particularly felt this contrast when a zealous friend, inclined to either extreme, has assisted me either in the pulpit or in the ordi CHRIST. OBSERV. No. 223. nary devotions of my family. In the former case, the whole sermon, without, perhaps, any one unscriptural or unkind statement, has been silently correcting my mistakes, and initiating my congregation in a better line of thinking. In the latter, the prayer has been evidently constructed in the same charitable spirit. I had, perhaps, from the passage which occurred in the regular reading of the Scriptures with my family offered a few expository remarks, without any reference to controversy. My zealous friend, not being confined to a written form in his prayer, took that opportunity of altering the impression left by the exposition. All he said was perhaps scriptural and useful; it shocked no prejudice on either side; yet it was easy to see that it was intended to obviate certain errors into which he thought it probable my exposition might lead my family. The whole of this effect arises from persons addicting themselves to a more prominent view of a part of the Gospel than of the whole. When, a few mornings since, I urged upon my domestic auditory the duty of heavenly-mindedness, I of course did not intend to derogate from the doctrine of the atonement, or of justification by faith, or to deny the necessity of the Holy Spirit's influences; yet such might have been supposed to have been my intention by any third person who had heard my reverend friend's prayer-the chief part of which was, that we might not be ensnared to trust in "duties," but might adhere wholly to the Cross of Christ. But my zealous friend was so in the habit of viewing but one half of the Gospel, that he was unable to discern the whole in its scriptural connexion. I have another friend who is as jealous on the contrary side, and who seems to fear for me, lest the exhibition of the free grace of God in Christ, with all the consolatory positions 3 M which flow from that truth, should lead my little circle to Autinomian presumption and an unholy life. The object which I proposed to myself by these remarks was, to point out an easy, and, I trust, scriptural, mode of rendering religious persons of both parties less violent disputants, and, perhaps, sincere friends, without concession or retractation on either side. My plan is simply this: Let each preach as he prays. This, it is true, will not alter the sentiments of either; but it will place them in a form in which they will not be perpetual subjects of misconception or irritation. It will lead each party to a scriptural elucidation of his own views, without vehemently attacking those of his Christian brethren. And this is one great secret for peace it is also the usual practice of the sacred writers thus to prevent error by preoccupying its place with truth. Nothing can be less controversial than most of those passages in the writings of St. Paul, which are claimed by the Calvinist: they do not occur as topics of speculation, but as motives to love, to joy, to humility, to holiness, to self-renunciation. Let us suppose a zealous Calvinist and an Arminian disputing respecting the doctrine of free-will and human power. What nice distinctions would they invert! What direful tendencies would each fix on the hypothesis of his opponent! What breaches of Christian charity, and, perhaps, even of ordinary civility, might ensue! But let us imagine the Calvinist putting his ideas into the shape of humble prayer and thanksgiving. He would, perhaps, express himself in something like the following manner :"Oh Lord, to Thee am I indebted for all the spiritual as well as temporal blessings which I enjoy. I was once living without Thee in the world: my tastes and inclinations were depraved: I had no will to turn to Thee, for I preferred the world and its vanities to the things of eternity. But thou didst change my heart. Thou didst convince me of my sin and folly; and by thy Holy Spirit didst both give me the desire and assist me in the endeavour to return unto the Lord my God; else I had still been disobedient, and had perished in my sins." What pious Arminian, unless rendered peculiarly suspicious by controversy, but would fully acquiesce in these sentiments, or, at least, would suffer them to pass without offence. Yet clothed in " good set terms," and formed into cold abstract propositions, and unconnected with the personal experience of the individual Christian, some of the sentiments, more or less implied in this confession and thanksgiving, have helped to furnish reams of angry controversy, and to confuse many a weak brain with a cloud of logical distinctions. W. MISCELLANEOUS. To the Editor of the Christian Observer. "A KING," observes the sagacious Verulam, “is a mortal god on earth, unto whom the living God hath lent his own name as a great honour; but withal told him, he should die like men, lest he should be proud, and flatter himself that God hath, with his name, imparted to him his nature also." Although some months have elapsed since this sentence was fulfilled in the case of our late beloved Mouarch, and many communications have appeared both in your Numbers and in various other publications on his character, it may not be regarded as an unwelcome effort once more to draw the attention of your readers to the sub ject. It is not meant to repeat the various details of his life; they will be collected and recorded elsewhere; but there has appeared to the writer of these lines to be so striking a parallel between our late revered monarch, and the received characters of those two illustrious brothers, who, at the dawn of the 16th century, successively filled the electorate of Saxony, Frederic III. and John 1., that while it deserves to be noticed as illustrative of the uniform operation of Christian principles in those who occupy the lofty and difficult province of rulers, it may serve also with but few deviations, which arise from the difference of circumstances and events, to delineate some of the qualities of George III., and to present them in their practical bearings to the contemplation of those who survive him. I propose, therefore, to collect a few passages from the bistories of the period of the Reformation, illustrative of the characters of these two Electors, and the principles by which they were actuated, and to notice briefly as I proceed the applicability of some features to the delineation of our deceased King, leaving to your readers to remark the more general characters of resemblance. I am the more inclined to transcribe the extracts to which I allude, because, independently of the parallel which I propose to draw, they are in themselves interesting, as being descriptive of two characters celebrated in the annals of the Protestant Reformation. On the 5th of May 1625, Frederic, Elector of Saxony, departed this life. His death was peaceful and pious; and as he had been the early friend as well as the constant protector of the reformed cause, it was an event which could not fail of producing a strong impres sion on the minds of Luther and Melancthon. Luther delivered a short discourse in German, and Melancthon pronounced an oration in the Latin language. From the latter, the following passages are selected, as in a peculiar degree applicable to the character of our late revered Sovereign. "This nation is highly indebted (remarks Melancthon, speaking of the Saxons,) to the higher orders for the advancement of sacred literature, and, under Divine Providence, for the existence of a prince who, being formed by nature pacific, humane, and merciful, esteemed nothing more dear to him than the best interests of his people. He was just, gentle, firm; careful of the public welfare, diligent in ascertaining the rights of others, and pacifying the contentions of fellow-citizens; patient towards the faults of the people, aiming mildly to restore those who were capable of amelioration, but severe in punishing the wicked and incorrigible*. "The multitude, I am aware (continues he), is struck with admiration of heroic achievements, and esteems the soldier above the quiet citizen. The virtues of domestic life are overlooked, and they who cultivate peace and the arts acquire but slender praise. But I confess myself of a far different opinion." "Frederic excelled in the more useful virtues. His wisdom, zeal, and fortitude were of no common cast, co-operating to overcome the impetuosity of anger, to spare the lives of his subjects, and to allay the violence of armed hostility by every reason and counsel. Never was our illustrious Prince known to revenge private injuries; and, like Pericles, when his friends were enumerating his trophies, and congratulating him on his victories, he might have replied, The praise of these does not belong so much to me as to my soldiers; but this * Is not this paragraph a just description of our late Sovereign's cautious but intrepid conduct during the riots of the year 1780? I will claim as a just distinction, that no citizen through my means ever put on mourning' intimating that he had never been guilty of any treacherous violence to advance his own dignity*. "He possessed, moreover, the greatest private virtues, and a peculiar devotedness to the study of the Christian Religion. He always treated sacred things with the utmost seriousness; and, amidst the contrariety of opinions prevalent in the present age, he diligently aimed to discover the best and least dubitable. Often would he confer with learned men on the nature and power of religiont. "He neither approved nor condemned any thing with precipitation. Whenever he saw the evi This was emphatically true of our late Monarch. I need scarcely remind the reader of his generous conduct towards the unfortunate individuals who at two several times attempted his life: -not only forgiving them, but even pensioning their relatives. It is but recently that one of these annuities has ceased by the death of the party. Such conduct almost compels the remark applied to Archbishop Cranmer, "Do unto my Lord of Canterbury a shrewd turn, and then you may be sure to have him for your friend whilst he liveth." See some remarkable instances of this in Richmond's Fathers of the English Church, Vol. III. p. 17, &c. ↑ A similar plan was adopted by Queen Caroline, consort of George II. She appointed a particular day in the week when learned men, divines and others, were invited to attend her Royal Highness in the evening; a practice which she continued after her accession to the throne. Of this company were Doctors Clarke, Hoadley, Berkeley, and Sherlock. See Bishop Berkeley's Memoirs, p. 28. Our late Sovereign likewise frequently enjoyed the conversation of wise and pious men, whom he sent for to his palace expressly for this purpose. See, for instance, the accounts of his interviews with Dr Beattie and others. The interesting dialogue which occurred with the former is related in your voume for 1807, p. 513. dence of religious truth, he embraced it with all his soul; and it became the means of establishing and nourishing his piety. He shunned insignificant disputes, which did not conduce to edification; and when he observed certain impious men, upon pretence of enjoying evangelical liberty, debasing themselves and religion, by a ferociousness of conduct and a contempt of public decency; he cautiously avoided giving them or others occasion of introducing rash changes through his example, perceiving the dangerous tendency of such innovations." "Our country also (adds Melancthon) has lost not only a useful and gracious prince, but also an excellent father. They merit the highest honour in every place who assiduously cultivate the country: he did indeed cultivate it, devoting his time to its improvement*, to the education of youth, and to the promotion of commerce." Such is the outline of that portrait which the pen of Melancthon drew of the illustrious Frederic. He was succeeded by his brother, the Elector John, who ruled during a period of considerable agitation 1532. From Melancthon's elegant for seven years, and died in August Latin oration at his funeral, the following passages are extracted, as furnishing features of resemblance to the tranquil and dignified conduct of our late Monarch. "I shall not speak (he remarks) of his noble birth, or of his youthful pursuits, though he might be highly eulogized for modesty and On the subject of the education of the poor, it can hardly be necessary to remind the reader that at no period of British history were such efforts made, and so many deep-rooted prejudices overcome, towards the accomplishment. of this object, as in the reign of King George III.; and our late King himself, with his venerable consort, were among the first and most generous supporters of Sunday as well as other schools. |