the To Ev, or the summum bonum, after having already "found Him of whom Moses, in the Law, and the Prophets did write," and raised to him the prayer, "Lift up the light of thy countenance upon us;" it was desirable to leave upon the mind, as the latest impression, the pleasing and devout emotions which these previous contemplations had awakened: but we are brought back, in the third section, to the benighted multitude wandering in the wilderness of natural ignorance, a scene filled with deluded and disappointed inquirers eagerly asking, "Who will shew us any good?" and "wherewith shall we come before the Lord?" Still we would not undervalue this last section of the work. It opens an argument very powerful, and, in some degree, novel, for the truth of Christianity. The investigation, conducted by our author into the schools of pagan philosophy, has enabled him to bring back demonstrations of the insufficiency of all their theories, and the emptiness of all their hopes; and by remarking the circumstance of the despised condition of the Jewish people, an unlettered and unrefined race, who yet possessed a knowledge of this holy principle of love to God, and were elevated by it above the rest of the nations in happiness and true glory, the contrast is presented with surprising force: for we must agree with our author, that if it can be shewn that the true supreme felicity of man was anxiously sought for by the ancient philosophers (and he has made such a classification of the schools and their systems, as enables us at once to perceive this fact distinctly), but was sought for in vain; and if the sacred principle of love to God be that which imparts this supreme felicity-and this also is made quite clear, and that this principle was contained in the Jewish writings from their first promulgation, then we may fairly call upon the opponents of Revelation, either to admit the Divine inspiration of the Bible, or to shew how so sublime principle found its way so early

among a people proverbial for their ignorance, dulness, and disregard of science, while it was unknown in its meaning and genuine excellence among nations the most accomplished and acute. Mr. Joyce has certainly furnished the Christian champion with a new piece of armour, which, like the Gorgonian shield, can both defend himself and paralyse his enemy at the same time.

The chapter in which Mr. Joyce analyses that ingredient of Divine love, admiration of the Divine perfections, marks with becoming reprobation that perverseness of mind which delights to dwell upon those occasional seeming irregularities in the works of nature, or those divinely recorded appointments of Providence, on which an impeachment of rectitude or an imputation of forgetfulness of his creatures might be cast by human pride and ignorance against the Almighty; and with this perverseness is beautifully contrasted the believing love and confidence of a true disciple of Christ.

"The wider his field of view becomes, the more his admiration is awakened. The more the nature of God is revealed, and the greater his power of appreciating it, the more reason he has to be enraptured and enchanted with the object of his contemplation. Volcanoes may tear the earth, and mingle all ranks and ages.

and characters in indiscriminate destruction; orders may be issued from Heaven for one nation to exterminate another; heathen ignorance may pervade multitudes of mankind; where revelation is made known, great numbers may despise the laws and disregard the mercy of God; still the faith of the sincere worshipper, founded on what he knows and extended

to what he knows not, begun with what is plain and carried on to what is mysterious, triumphs over the unintelligible portions of the Divine conduct, and permits them not to infringe on that tribute of admiration with which the perfections of God inspire his soul. Notwithstanding the darkness and the difficulties of the present condition of man, there is enough of heavenly light to shew us that God is the proper object of our most exalted love; and to obviate the tendency of those parts of his proceedings, which, in our shortsightedness, we cannot at present recon

oppressing the mind, it is the occasion of bringing it oftener and nearer to the throne of grace and to the fountain of bliss. There is a pleasure in acknowledging "The debt immense of endless gratitude, Not burdensome, still paying, still to owe; Joyfully feeling, that a grateful mind, By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and discharged-what burden then?'" Burder, pp. 90, 91.

There are other parts of the two authors before us wherein their thoughts flow by the side of each other in remarkable similarity, particularly on the subject of the moral sense; a subject into which our limits will not admit of our entering in the present article.

The following passage from Joyce would not, we imagine, have displeased the excellent Hooker, whose first book of the Ecclesiastical Polity contains some statements not wholly dissimilar.

"As in human governments, a violation of law is justly considered as an offence against all classes of men in the state, because the privileges of all are protected and secured by general obedience; so an infringement in the Divine law is a blow directed against the immortal glories and blessings of every order of intelligent beings. The Majesty of heaven and earth may declare to us that we have broken the laws by which his Divine glory is displayed and maintained. The hosts of heaven may plead against us, that we have broken the laws by which their magnificent immunities, and their angelic endowments and delights, are secured. Good men on earth may charge us with breaking the laws by virtue of which they attain to a growing conformity to the Divine excellence here, and will enjoy heavenly glory and blessedness hereafter. The different degrees of rational creatures which God has made, may bear witness against us, that we have broken the laws by which in their several spheres they are enabled to display the Divine glory, gratify their desire of communicating good, and delight in their full measure of happiness." Joyce,

pp. 82, 83.

We observe in our author a sentiment which, at first sight, appeared to us to involve the questionable hypothesis of the disinterestedness of our love to God. But we think

his observations are not intended to support a notion which, we should imagine, no Christian writer can atand convincing reasonings of Dr. tempt to perpetuate, after the clear Chalmers. The distinctions drawn by that admirable writer, between the love of moral esteem and the love of kindness; and the irresistible conclusion which he has derived from this last, that its offspring, the love of gratitude, is no sordid affection; are, we think, quite sufficient to quiet the scruples of such as would not allow the latter a place among the Christian virtues: and, moreover, it seems to us to be one of the most inverted processes in any system, to require a disinterested affection towards God, simply on the ground that He is lovely, without any reference to our own comfort or safety. The character of God, as revealed in the Gospel, is intimately connected with the well-being of man. Were it otherwise, as some writers would contend, man would in fact be told, that sinful and polluted as he is, before he can admit such a sense of reconciliation into his bosom as will call forth a grateful regard to Him who has conferred it, he must view God with disinterested affection; "that from the deep and helpless abyss of his depravity, he must find unaided his ascending way to the purest and sublimest emotion of moral nature; that before he is delivered from fear, he must love, even though it be said of love that it casteth out fear;" and that before he is placed on the vantage ground of the peace of the Gospel, he must realize in his character one of the most exalted of its perfections." How discouraging would this prove to many an anxious seeker after spiritual repose!

It has sometimes been a matter of doubt with us how far it is expedient or proper to indulge the imagination in minute speculations on the nature, the glories, and the occupations of the heavenly state. We know that the Apostle, who was

caught up thither and admitted to a transient view of the third heavens, declares of the things which he saw, that "it is not lawful" or possible "for man to utter them;" and in another part of his writings, that "it hath not entered into the heart of man to conceive the things that are prepared for them that love God." Of this last character are almost all the allusions which the sacred writers make to that blissful state. They content themselves with setting forth its glories in ne gative terms, as an inheritance in corruptible, undefiled, and unfading. The duty, therefore, of the Christian writer appears to be opposed to any attempt at an accuracy of delineation or lengthened detail of those holy occupations, our knowledge of which must at present rest chiefly on very imperfect conjectures. And yet, on the other hand, there are occasional glimpses afforded us through that opening which was made in heaven, for the visions of the beloved Apostle, in the isle of Patmos; and, as the clouds which naturally hover around our world have seemed at times to yield a little to the light which, from that particular source, has beamed upon them, it cannot be denied that some representations have travelled down to us, of the doings and the dwellers in that celestial habitation. they have been so enveloped in figure, or clothed in the imagery of forms and sounds with which the children of men are familiar, that while we know this has been the necessary mode of communication with creatures whose only knowledge could be acquired through this medium, we are somewhat afraid of delivering ourselves up to the full impression which these representations would make. We feel the more jealousy over ourselves, in this particular, from a circumstance of which, when treating of these matters, we cannot lose sight, that some of the most unhallowed of the speculations of false religion, from Mohammed to Swedenborg, have

But

been of this very character; and while, therefore, low and degrading views of the heavenly paradise, as a scene of sensitive delights, appear to us to amount to little less than blasphemy,we would wish to see this high and holy theme approached under the same sort of devout awe with which the Christian addresses himself to the act of prayer; "God is in heaven, I am on earth: therefore let my words be few." The immeasureable distance which intervenes, at present, between us and the glorified state should admonish us to a very cautious and solemnized frame of spirit, when entering on meditations like these.

But, at the same time, we cannot exclude from our consideration, that, when accompanied by this hallowed reserve, the occupation of which we are speaking is one of the clearly enjoined and highly interesting duties of the Christian. It is also not less his privilege than his duty; and we may ascertain the value of a careful observance of it by marking the sanctifying effects which it produces on his mind. When is he so happy, because when so holy, as when "setting his affections on things above?" When so "pure in heart" as when desiring "to see God?" When so far from spiritual impoverishment, as when reckoning the "treasures laid up in heaven?" And when does he feel so little in common with the low and sordid motives and pursuits of the children of men around him, as when, raised by a contemplation of the holy character and successive conflicts of the "spirits of the just made perfect," he views them walking with God in white raiment, and longs and strives and prays to be with them and to be like them; for "the white raiment is the righteousness of the saints."

It was therefore with some feelings of anxiety that we observed the employment and the glories of the blessed in heaven marked out for investigation, in the volume before us; but this anxiety has been

exchanged for a sincere delight, by the careful and yet lofty manner in which that investigation has been conducted. We gladly laid aside our pen to trace the flights of a Christian imagination to these hallowed regions, and to endeavour to accompany it as it rose, from the tumults and discords and pollution of earth, to the gates of the city of purity, harmony, and peace. The speculations of our author are chastised and Scriptural, and such as cannot be dwelt upon without much edification. We might, perhaps, single out, as an exception to the general current of his remarks, the idea of certain seasons set apart in the "eternal year" of heaven, when more solemn celebrations of the Divine goodness and love will be appointed, heavenly festivals, commemorative of eras agreed to be held above others in grateful and sacred remembrance, and to be solemnized with periodical expressions of gratitude and praise among the assemblies of the blessed. We see nothing but earthly analogies to lead us to such conceptions. The arrangements of the Christian church, in its probationary state, have, with peculiar wisdom,included the institution of seasons of commemoration like these; and they mark a thorough acquaintance with the condition of man: • The same remark will apply to another exceptionable passage, where the themes of celebration are called "holy legends, though unmixed with fable," &c. It is difficult to detach these legends from the popish associations with which they are in our minds constantly bound up; and we dislike the introduction of a single term which interferes with the sacred impression which should be connected with this theme. There is a similar fault in Mr. Burder's work. In his 11th Lecture, although at the commencement he speaks of the figurative language of Scripture, in reference to a heavenly state, as almost "interdicting the effort of the expositor," he so far forgets himself as to remark; "In that celestial paradise, the tree of knowledge shall be without enclosure, and in

reference to its fruit, the most voluptuous Epicurism shall be innocent." What incongruities of expression!

but we scruple not to say that they originate in a conviction of human frailty, of the imperfections which adhere to the exercise of the Christian graces in every believer, and of the tendency of his knowledge and his love, through the influence of other and far different matters, to diminution and decay. These are the reasons why periodical and commemorative celebrations have been framed; and they seem to bring the great subjects on which faith and hope and love are peculiarly fed, more definitely before us, and to stir up our minds by way of remembrance. But no such reasons will exist in heaven:

"There knowledge grows without decay,

And love shall never die."

The glorified saint will not suffer from the impaired energies of any holy principle or affection, the exis tence of which is compatible with that blissful condition. Our faith now may grow weak and enfeebled, and we may require seasons set apart particularly to "increase" and "strengthen" it: but, in heaven it will have passed away before the bright and realised glories of the beatific vision. Our hope may here languish, and we may often have need to strive for its renewal and re-invigoration. These seasons. may serve to strike its anchor more deeply into the ground of anticipated rejoicing. But there we shall be "within the veil :" and as the uprooting storm shall no longer be dreaded, the anchor may be taken up; and the expectations of hope, as well as the prospects of faith, shall meet with, and be lost in, their appropriate enjoyments. But heavenly love shall still flourish, fluctuand that unsubjected to any ations or change. And though it may be to us now a cheering thought, that there have been times when the morning stars have been heard to sing together, and the sons of God to shout for joy, and seasons in which God has seemed to draw more near to his people than usual, yet we cannot imagine that there.