"It is indeed our joy to know this and believe it. And when we begin as sinners with a Saviour, our journey is wonderful and glorious beyond all thought, for our sin leads us to Christ, and then Christ leads us to the Father. And what a path that is! It stretches all along from the darkest and most distant places of creation, where sin and death reign, up to the highest heavens, where love and glory dwell and shine for ever. Angels have their own untainted sphere to move in, but they have never trod such a path as this. The Church passes from a sinner's darkness into God's marvellous light, and there has been nothing like that, and none but a sinner, conscious of the value of the Son of God, can understand it." Pp. 46-48.

"We have, however, a painful instance of the way in which the Lord was liable to be intruded on in this low-thoughted world. He was at this moment, as we have seen, happy in thoughts of heavenly things, when a lawyer proposes an inquiry to him, which came from other sources and springs altogether. But he bows his head to the intrusion and comes down to man's level. And in many other places, as here, we may notice the ease and patience with which he ever turned himself towards man. I have already noticed the way in which he occasionally comes forth in divine glory at the bidding of faith (page 43), but his ease as a teacher or a healer coming forth at the call of man's ignorance or need, is equally lovely in its place. Nothing was too glorious in God for Jesus to assume, when faith unveiled him; and nothing too little in man for him to wait on, when necessity or ignorance appealed to him. And in all this he was never in haste, as though he felt he was meeting a difficulty, but always turns in the graceful as well as gracious ease of conscious power, telling the occasion, let it be what it may, that he was equal to it." P. 70.

"He needs not our commendation, beloved; but it should be happy to any of us to ponder his perfections and admire his beauty. And I am sure that these reflections are of value now-a-days. For the present is a time when many are running to and fro, and knowledge is increasing. And this should be a caution to our souls; for the saint has always to watch against what is called the spirit of the times. St Paul, when he prays for the saints, that they may grow in knowledge, first desires that they might have spiritual understanding. (Eph. i. 17, 18. Col. i. 8.) For the mere intellect is not valued. Rather let us lay our inquiries aside, than follow them in the acuteness of human ability. And is it, beloved, out of season to recur to the thought of one who lived to Christ in days before our's?—that the desire to know much even in spiritual things may be the witness that God himself is not known in reality. To know himself, is life eternal; and as another of our own day has most profitably observed the natural man often receives truth more quickly than the saint, because the saint has to learn it in his conscience, to have that exercised before God by what he is learning. Most needful is this admonition. We may hasten to be wise and full of knowledge in this busy age, and thus the soul be injured.” P. 91.

"What can surpass this in consolation to us? These poor publicans, these tainted ones of the city, would have no business in the Pharisee's house; nor did they affect to follow the Lord with the multitude, for they are unworthy, and know that they are without strength. But they can go and touch the hem of his garment, or take their pitchers to the fountain, and there in shame and poverty sit down.' And so they do, and so they are welcome to do. He is happier to give them than they are to receive. Jesus had now travelled far, -far in spirit, I mean. He had gone to, and through, and from, the house of the Pharisee, and along the road with admiring crowds, but it was wearisome to him. He found no rest, till now that the poor sinner came to get from him. But the joy that fills this chapter tells us his weariness was now over. The fold that had received the lost sheep, the house that witnessed the recovered piece of money, and the home of the father that had entertained the returned

prodigal, set off, as in figures, the Saviour's joy now in the midst of publicans and sinners.

"This is beyond expression-wonderful to tell it; but this to Jesus was the house of God, this was the gate of heaven to him. And we ought to wait at it for a little longer. He had been charged by the Pharisees with receiving sinners, as though his ministry did not secure righteousness, but gave liberty to evil. Of course he might have pleaded various answers to this; he might have defended his grace to sinners, on the ground of the necessity of the case, or on the ground of God's glory. But in this chapter, from beginning to end, in each of the lovely parables, he vindicates it simply on the ground of the joy that he, and the Father, and all heaven itself, were finding in it.

"Only think of that, beloved. If the Lord God be asked a reason for these his ways of salvation with you and me, he says that he takes delight in them -they make him and his glorious habitation to rejoice. What assurance, what consolation spring from that! Would his neighbours, think you, murmur at the shepherd's joy over his lost sheep now found by him; or the woman's friends grudge her pleasure, as she swept her piece of money into her lap? They would, the rather, make this the matter of joy to themselves. And so it is with God; it is his own joy in the salvation of sinners, that Jesus proposes as his warrant or vindication. And why should man either murmur or disbelieve? May not the Lord prepare joy for himself, as well as the shepherd? Nay, though it cost him toil and sacrifice; as the shepherd had to go to the wilderness, and the woman to sweep the house. But who dare deny our hearts the assurance and consolation of this? Let us cherish the thought deeply in our souls, that the gospel of our peace is the spring of joy to him who planned and accomplished it, that our God has done nothing less than this, laid the scene of his own happiness in our salvation, as these parables testify to us." Pp. 99, 100.

"Precious faith-it deals with God. The prodigal was silent. He did not stay his father's hand, as though he was doing too much for him. That might have appeared modest and humble, but it would not have been so for true humbleness forgets ourselves, and faith in him had other things to deal with. It might have fed in silence on the well-known truth, that the ascending affections are never equal to the descending. A child never loves a parent with the intenseness with which a parent loves his child. Yea, and more than this -the parent is satisfied to have it so. A father is satisfied to know that his love will never get its' recompense in the same' from the bosom of his child. These thoughts might have fed the silent heart of the prodigal, as he ate of the fattened calf. And they should be our thoughts toward our heavenly Father. Not that he is indifferent to the state of our hearts towards him. That would be neither his glory nor our joy. But he knows that his love will ever be the larger. He will ever be the one to exceéd'—as David with Jonathan. For he is in the higher place, and that place will maintain its rights and attributes. And it is among the attributes of the descending affection (which comes out of the higher place), as I have said, to flow with the richer and more generous current; and all that faith has to do is to allow this, and to rejoice just because it is so. Faith ascends to God, and makes that journey in silence. Not even the complaints and confessions of a righteous self-judging spirit are to be heard. But nothing but that light which no man can approach unto' can transcend the elevation of that rest and dwelling-place up to which it bears the heart in triumph. 'Lord, increase our faith, may well be the breathing of our souls, beloved!" Pp. 105, 106.

The Church in the Navy and Army. A New Series. Edin. W. INNES. 1844.

This volume, like its predecessor, is full of interest. Its narratives are wellselected, and in general, very striking. It is fitted to be useful, not only in the circle for which it is intended, but in others also. It is a book which all may read with profit. We select two anecdotes as specimens.

"The admiral was not only a very profane man, but also a very proud and haughty man; keeping his officers at a great distance, and not allowing any common sailor to think of entering his elegantly furnished cabin. Of course I felt it my solemn duty not to neglect the opportunity of attempting to do good, under the Divine blessing, to this influential but dark and benighted soul. I therefore placed on the table Wilberforce's book on Practical Christianity; marking some passages with a pencil which I thought applied to his case; and doubling down the leaves of the book at certain portions of it which I thought might be useful.

"One day he took up the book, and reading its title exclaimed, 'A book on Christianity, by a member of parliament, and a member too for one of the largest counties in England!' This seemed to excite his great surprise. He took up the book and read some parts of it, till he came to one of the passages which I had marked with pencil. As it bore closely on his own case, he seemed to feel its application; it made him very angry; and at last he threw down the book, took up his cocked hat, and went on deck. In the course of a few days finding the same book on the table, he took it up again, and read on till he came to another of the passages I had especially marked; this produced a burst of displeasure; he threw the book upon the floor, and walked out. During the interval, however, he from time to time looked with a side-long but angry glance at myself, as if he said, you put that book for me, and marked it for me; however took no notice, but went on reading as before.

"It was some time after this, that seeing the same book on the table he took it up once more; this was an interesting occasion. I now saw him put one hand to the side of his face, and then the other to the other, as one wrapt in deep attention. He went on from time to time thus reading, till he finished the book. When he came to the close of it, he said to me, 'Tell me honestly, did you not put that book for me-mark it for me-double down the leaves for me?' I did, Sir.' 'I thank God,' he said, 'that that book was ever written; it has been the means under God, of showing me what a poor sinner I am, and where alone I can ever hope for salvation.'

"Who can declare the joy of my heart at this intelligence. Of course, it led to the most interesting conversation. How delightful was it to see the heart of this once proud, haughty, and blasphemous sailor laid low before the cross of the Son of God,-to behold him meek, lowly, and docile as a little child,— to see by degrees his deep concern for all his officers, and all his men as to their spiritual condition, to see his kind and condescending conduct to his officers and men, talking with them about their souls, and to remark every morning and evening those who were willing, coming and bending their knees in devotion on the splendid carpet of his cabin. Nor was the blessed effect confined to the admiral himself. There seemed to be a general inquiry through the ship on that great question, What must I do to be saved?' With those in whom I felt satisfied that there was a work of grace upon their hearts, I often met for prayer and conversation, and every month we met in his cabin for the celebration of the Lord's Supper. Thus was the Lord pleased to bless this feeble instrumentality, and to work his own ends by means the most inadequate. When the admiral returned to the Downs, he wrote to Mr Wilberforce a letter with deep and affectionate acknowledgments of the debt of

gratitude which, under God, he owed him for the book that had been the means of so much good to his soul." Pp. 11-13.

"On my return home from a gay watering-place about the latter end of September 1823, I was asked by a lady who was on a visit to the family, if I had met with the Rev. Henry Martyn in India? I replied that I had not even heard of such a person. She said she had his memoirs, and if I would like to read the book she would bring it. Thinking it might recal to my recollection scenes and circumstances connected with India of an amusing nature, I replied, that I should be glad to see it. She immediately brought it, and I retired after luncheon to my bed-room.

My conduct heretofore had been considered by my friends amiable and commendable; although I lost no opportunity of engaging in every scene of gaiety and dissipation that presented itself. I was a few years before this, when in India, visited with a most distressing family bereavement. The painful event occasioned me much and long-continued distress of mind. On this occasion, I was led to ask, while suffering from intense mental grief, why has the Lord thus afflicted me? and I remember a near and dear relation saying in answer, whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth.' I did not understand this passage quoted from Scripture, and I fear the dear and affectionate individual did not, and may not even now, I lament to think, comprehend the spiritual scope and meaning of that affecting portion of the word of God. But now the Lord by his messenger, who though dead, yet liveth in the memoir of that dear child of God, under the Holy Spirit's teaching, opened my eyes to see and my heart to receive greedily the word of life. I had proceeded but a short way in the memoir, when my attention was arrested by the consideration of what God had done for lost, ruined, and rebellious man, in giving the Son of his love a ransom for sinners. I immediately locked the door of my bed-room to prevent intrusion, and read with increasing interest what the Lord had done for Henry Martyn. I saw myself a lost creature; but at the same moment, I may say it was revealed to me that I might appropriate the cleansing blood of the Lamb shed for sinners. The plan of salvation by Christ was suddenly made known to me in all its fulness and plainness; I was overcome with sorrow for my long-continued resistance to the will of God: but my joy and thankfulness was unspeakably great; my heart was full, and I poured it out before the Lord."

"I immediately purchased a Bible, and with little intermission I read and treasured up the blessed word in my mind. This instantaneous change produced corresponding change of conduct and conversation. My tongue and my pen were unceasingly employed in speaking of Jesus." Pp. 36, 37.

Elements of Sacred Truth for the Young. By JOHN ABERCROMBIE, M.D. &c. Part I. Edin.: W. Whyte & Co.

The little volume before us, interesting and valuable in itself, acquires additional interest from the fact, that it is the last work of one whose loss the church and country have so lately been called to deplore. This, like many of the former works of Dr Abercrombie, is intended chiefly for the young: "the ambition" of the author as stated in the Introduction, "is to have his name associated with those solemn and sacred hours when the Christian parent calls around him the children of his heart, and feeling all the uncertainty of the life which is passing over them, seeks to raise their minds to a life that is never to end." This amiable and characteristic ambition is already in great measure realized, and we doubt not, will be yet more so ere long. The name of Dr Abercrombie is not more honoured by the medical faculty for his high professional attainments, than it is loved by the Christian for the virtues and

graces which his character exhibited, and for his abundant labours of love, and cherished by the Christian parent for the valuable aid his writings afford in the training and development of the youthful mind. The volume commences with a brief outline of the mental processes by which we acquire, retain, and recal knowledge; but the mental process most insisted on, is "that by which, from our various objects of knowledge and of memory, we select particular facts or truths and make them special objects of attention and reflection." We are too apt to be satisfied with storing up certain truths in our memory, without presenting them to the mind as objects of reflection. The evil effects of this are observable in reference to all kinds of truth, but are in no case so fatal as in reference to sacred truth. How innumerable are the cases in which the mind is amply furnished with the knowledge of the truths necessary to salvation, without any suitable emotions being excited, or any corresponding change in the character produced. It matters not how well-calculated these truths may be to excite these emotions or to produce such a change, if instead of being made the objects of serious and earnest contemplation, they are shut up unheeded and unused in the secret recesses of the mind. It is true that the Spirit's operation is necessary to produce a saving change, but it is also true that this reflection is one of the means made use of in accomplishing this end. It is to the various parts of the volume in which this subject is spoken of, that we are disposed to attach the greatest value. The same principle is also made use of in explanation of the fact, that moral perversity of soul produces obliquity of judgment in matters involving sacred truth. The attention given to any subject depends on the interest felt in it, when, therefore, a man is indifferent to religious truth, he will withhold his attention from it; but when, instead of indifference, aversion is felt, he will not only withhold his attention from such truths as the holiness of the Divine character, and the purity of the Divine law, but will give a dishonest degree of attention to the arguments in support of doctrines more pleasing to the natural man, so that we cannot wonder that his conclusions are false. The same principle is made use of in explanation of a man's responsibility for his belief, and for the objects of his affection. It is true that a simple volition cannot, from the constitution of the mind, produce belief in a truth, or love of an object; but it is in the power of the mind to give its attention to such things as would produce belief on the one hand or love on the other; and there is criminality in withholding the attention from such things.

The volume closes with some excellent practical rules to which we would call the attention of the reader.

As the title page indicates, the present volume is intended to be the first part of a series, our only regret in reference to it is, that it must also be the last.

The Presbyterian's Armoury. A Treatise of Miscellany Questions.

By

GEORGE GILLESPIE. Edinburgh: R. Ogle. 1844. Aaron's Rod Blossoming, &c. By GEORGE GILLESPIE. Edinburgh: R. Ogle.

1844.

Sermons and Controversial Pieces, of GEORGE GILLESPIE.

Ogle. 1844.

Edinburgh : R.

A Dispute against the English Popish Ceremonies obtruded on the Church of Scotland. By GEORGE GILLESPIE. Edinburgh: R. Ogle. 1844.

Gillespie was one of the ablest, and most learned controversialists of his day. His works are exceedingly valuable, both for their logic, their learning and their spirituality. His style is vigorous, though perhaps occasionally turgid. The present edition of his works, published by Mr Ogle, will be duly