A desolate coast. Tiber, mouth of. Reflections. Ita- lian and American scenery, remarks upon. A classic coast. Cicero on the immortality of the soul. Poetry. Æneas, his escape from the enchantments of Circe. Paganism and Christianity, thoughts upon. The Puteoli of St. Paul. Acts xxviii. 13, 14. Reflections. A fatal accident. Vesuvius, view of, for the first time. Pliny, death of. The bay of Naples, city and coast, aspects of. The Author's religious experience. Vesu- THE" grand outlines of Bible theology" are the great subjects of all effectual preaching. These must not, need not be disturbed, nor weakened, but they may be beautified and illustrated by all that is visible in surrounding nature, or convincing and interesting in scientific discoveries. All that is touching or terrifying in the providence of God, whether read in the rough pages of real life, or in the truthful pages of the sober historian, may also, with good effect, be pressed into the same service. But all this may be done without offering any violence to the permanent principles of the theology of the Old and New Testaments. We may say of the great truths of the Bible, what a writer, some years ago, remarked on landscape gardening. Speaking of the larger and more unmanageable features of country scenery, he says: "They are to be left as God has left them. Who attempts to alter the shape of a hill, or the course of a majestic river ? or, indeed, to disturb any of those massive features of nature which the Almighty has placed beyond our management? The execution of such freaks as these is luckily impossible, but, if pos sible, would be absurd. Some people have no idea of improving, but altering; but a lover of landscape B knows the prospect of a hill or a river may be improved in various ways, without any alteration of the object itself. There may be a choice of points in which it may be seen, and a proper selection and treatment of the manageable objects in the foreground, which it is within our power to alter, remove, or supply, as taste or propriety may dictate." The application of the above sentiment to the subject in hand is easy; but I must leave you to make it. That was an important advice given by one of the Fathers of the church, I forget whom, to one younger in the ministry than himself: "Keep the Depositum. What is the Depositum? That wherewith thou art trusted, -not which thou hast found out; that which thou hast received, not that which thou hast invented. Keep the talent of the catholic faith; be thou a Bezaleel of the spiritual tabernacle. Cut the gems of the divine doctrine shining in his word; insert them curiously in thy discourse; set them off with a good foil; let men understand by exposition clearly, that which before they understood obscurely. Yet, be sure thou teach no more than thou hast learned of Christ; though thou speak in a new manner, yet deliver no new matter." I admit with you, a sermon may be all surface with little depth." It may be all show and shine, and leave the hearer nothing the better. It may be pretty and plausible, but unsubstantial and unsatisfying. It may resemble a field of grain I once beheld, covered with gay, flaring flowers. They adorned the field, looked very pretty, but they injured the crop. Pleasing to the eye they certainly were, and drew the admiration of the careless passenger; but, to the interested farmer, they were far otherwise. And thus it may be with a sermon; there may be more flowers,-more tropes, figures, and similitudes, than gospel truth. Those who come to admire such things, will, doubtless, be pleased; but those who are hungry for the bread of life, or who are hoping for a harvest of souls for the church of God, will go away disappointed. The difference between such superficial preachers, and those who enter deeply into the spirit of gospel truth, -in such a manner as to compel the hearers to say, with tears, as did the old Dutchman in America, "Dat was de very bottom of de gospel,"—was well illustrated by an old divine, centuries ago, when he compared the former to the boys of apothecaries, who, in his days, gathered broad leaves and white flowers, which floated upon the top of the water; and the latter to cunning divers, who brought up precious pearls from the bottom of the deep. They are the best preachers, in my opinion, who have a proper proportion of both methods of preaching, in their pulpit ministrations. He who is always diving, is often too long out of sight, unless the people dive with him. Those who have been toiling hard all the week, (and they form, you are aware, a large portion of our congregations,) are, usually, not over fond of such intellectual efforts. I have seen such endeavour to follow " the diver," but, ere they got half way down, they were fast asleep; while he, as if ambitious still to sink, and reach depth profounder still, pursued the stray idea,— "Sinking from thought to thought, a vast profound, I have witnessed even some of the higher and more intellectual classes, nodding an assent, when it was evident Morpheus would not allow them to comprehend a single sentence. But there were knowing ones, and "they looked wise,"-first at the preacher, then at each other, as if interchanging "the thought" significantly, and at the preacher's expense: |