was a pleasure te Socinus, that arch-heretic, that he had no master; we wish it had been his fate to have had no scholars.'

In short, Mr. Henry, in all his relations, was an eminently holy and useful man. He was one of those who, being dead, yet speak, and will continue to speak, with instruction and profit, to generations yet unborn-who, having turned many to righteousness, "will shine as the brightness of the firmament, and as the stars for ever and ever."

Christian Essays: To which is added an Essay on the Influence of a Moral Life on our Judgement in Matters of Faith. By the REV. SAMUEL CHARLES WILKS, A. M. From the second London edition. Boston: Perkins & Marvin. 1829. pp. 348.

THE publication of a volume of Essays, and especially a volume of moral or Christian essays, is getting to be a rarity. No form of composition was once more popular, or more generally sought by the reading world. But within half a century, within the memory indeed of the present generation, a change has taken place in respect to this department, more remarkable than has often occurred in the history of letters. From standing at the very summit of reputation, and drawing into its service the most richly endowed by nature or education, it has suddenly sunk into absolute neglect, if not contempt. We may almost ask, who now reads a Spectator or Rambler, an Adventurer or Idler? A volume of religious Essays is hardly named without producing a positive sensation of languor; at the introduction of it, we involuntarily "wheel the sofa round," not to listen, but to sleep. As to sermons, a kindred and once equally esteemed department of instruction, and we may almost say of amusement also, they are a drug in the book market; whole alcoves in our public libraries, (private libraries they now rarely burden) groan with them, unrespited from year to year.

The causes of this change in the public taste are pretty obvious. The multiplication of books has presented opportunity for selection. The variety and amount of talent devoted to composition have vastly increased. The new facilities for printing have brought almost all popular works within the reach of the whole reading community. Of course, that community now consults not merely its ability, or its necessities, but its taste, its fancy. The natural consequence is, that works of an exciting, moving power, beautiful description, animated eloquence, splendid scenery, lofty enterprise, thrilling incident, or the heat and piquancy of controversy, whatever enchains attention and rouses the sympathies, these, and these almost alone, find encouragement. Reading is more

subservient to amusement than to labor-more a luxury than a means of thought and moral discipline.

The Christian world partake of the prevailing spirit. To be well received, to be read, a Christian author must offer novelty, or imagination, or strong emotion. Truth, in its utmost simplicity, is less satisfying than it once was. The mind is less at home, if the expression may be used; its objects are more out of itself; there is more observation and less reflection; more dependence on external aids, and less on its own resources. There is more information among Christians, but less thorough mental discipline; more knowledge of other men and things, but less knowledge of themselves. The sympathies of the renewed mind take hold of a wider range of objects-such objects fill the whole compass of vision-they give the Christian life an aspect of enterprise, of business, of striking results and rewards; but it is to be doubted, whether there is as true a sense of our real character in God's sight, as humble and meek a piety, as holy and elevated a conception of redemption from indwelling sin, as honorable thoughts of the mercy and patience of the Saviour, as close and scrupulous a walk with God, as have sometimes distinguished the churches.

Christianity should be practical; but it should be, also, meditative. The monk ran into one extreme; there is danger of running into the other. A man who loves the duties of the closet can easily enter into the feelings of the primitive recluse, who sought retirement from the scenes of human pride, and pleasure, and vice, in the solitudes of nature, where he could bring God near, and commune with Him, without distraction or diversion,

"Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise."

How often will a good man wish for such a retreat! How delightful to look back, over all the intervening absurdities, mummeries, and iniquities of the dark ages, to the melancholy but amiable and heavenly spirit, in which, no doubt, the monastic institutions originated. It was the abuse, the extreme indulgence of a disposition deeply implanted in the pious mind, that ultimately introduced the long dark train of solemn evils, which so afflicted the Christian nations of Europe for centuries; and which brought down heavier judgments upon the church, in the form of satire, and sneer, and sophistry, than it had experienced from the sword or the flames of all the imperial persecutions.

In avoiding the extremes of a purely meditative religion, there may be danger of incurring the evils of a religion excessively practical. We know it is easy to predict disastrous consequences, and to deter from every thing great and worthy in its nature by pictures of possible excesses and abuses. They are the lions in the way of duty and Christian enterprise; and it requires no great effort of imagination to see them, in the twilight of futurity, rear

ing their dreadful fronts, or lurking in ambush, even in the great high-ways of the Christian life. And it is, therefore, not strange, that any intimation of such dangers should awaken suspicion; and seem to some to be pouring water upon the fire of benevolence, which has been kindled at so much expense. We disclaim all intentions of this kind. We desire not to see an enterprise of the churches relinquished; we wish them all God speed; we hope to see them multiplied, and carried on with new vigor, and enlisting every member of the Redeemer's kingdom on the earth.

And if it be true, as we have suggested, that unusual interest is felt in the controversies of the day, it is justified by the bold front and daring strides of error. Let the Davids of our generation go out to meet this Goliath, who is defying the armies of the living God; and let those armies stand by, and look on, and rejoice in the conflict and the triumph.

If the changes in men's tastes and habits of thinking have closed up the old avenues to their minds and hearts; let not such as would labor for their salvation resist the intimations of Providence, but let them search for other ways of conviction and persuasion. If the old language of divinity offends, let them seek out acceptable words; if the ancient forms of composition disgust, let them try others. If men will have biography, and narration, and periodical intelligence; spread out the lives of the saints; show them those of whom the world was not worthy; detail the processes of their conversion and sanctification, their trials, their toils, their failures, their successes, their labors of love and patience of hope. Let in the light of day upon the scenes of the closet; throw open the sanctuary of domestic life-the chamber, "where the good man meets his fate." Religion has nothing here to conceal; she will commend herself amid these scenes to the conscience and the heart. Piety will be nourished and animated by such disclosures.

Let imagination, also, lend her aid to the attractions of piety; let her create unreal scenes and unearthly characters, so be they offend not against the principles of the Gospel; ideal excellence may be usefully contemplated, and ideal scenes may impress important truths upon the mind. The very circumstance which has created the demand for such works-the increase of a taste for books, and the activity of the press, serve as securities, in a good degree, against the dangerous influence of their representations. Let our periodicals gather up intelligence, and paint the condition and changes of the world. These are among the great motives to duty. All these classes of composition, under the guidance of Christian discretion and pious feeling, may be made of incalculable benefit to the church. Let them, then, be cultivated; let genius task his rarest energies; let labor produce its most finished workmanship; let taste exhibit the delicate

touches of her hand, and clothe the forms of truth with her airy and exquisite graces. But let the friends of a substantial and enduring piety seek to nourish it, all the while, by a more frequent and habitual recourse to the fountains of self-knowledge and self-cultivation. We may be assured, that the gratifications of taste are not piety; that knowledge of religious truth and religious enterprises is not holiness; that excitement, even on the subject of religion, is not necessarily religion itself. If the history of Christianity teaches any thing, it teaches, what the Bible everywhere assures, that the foundations of a stable and valuable Christian character are laid in self-examination; a careful and patient study of our own hearts, our dispositions, besetting sins, weaknesses, all our peculiarities of temper and habit; in deep and habitual meditation of revealed truth. The way to obtain a good hope through grace, and to approve ourselves to conscience and to God is the same in all ages. There is no royal, no new-discovered road to righteousness. We must begin and inquire after the old paths.

It will augur well for the generation to come after us, if a taste for the species of composition, to which the work placed at the head of this article belongs, should be revived. The signs of the times will be cheering, when the Baxters, the Owens, the Howes, the Shaws, the Edwardses of a preceding age shall be again familiarly and freely consulted. There is matter in them for meditation. They are closet books. They nourish the soul. The fruit of their study is that hungering and thirsting after righteousness, which has the promise of being satisfied, and which nothing but righteousness-spotless, angelic righteousness, can satisfy.

To the same school, but in a more modern attire, belong Wilberforce, James, Spring, and others. To this class, also, belongs the author of the Essays, which have suggested the foregoing remarks; and we conclude with a very brief notice of the book, without attempting to present, at length, its uncommon claims to the attention of the Christian community.

The work consists of eleven Essays on the following subjects, viz. "True and false repose in death;" "Full assurance of understanding;" "Full assurance of faith;""Full assurance of hope;" "Christian obedience;" "The form and power of religion;" "Sources of error in opinion;" "False modesty in religion;" "Affection between ministers and their flock;" "Natural and revealed religion ;" and, "The influence of a moral life on our judgement in matters of faith."

The thoughts are just and important; the reasoning clear and conclusive; the spirit evangelical; the style extremely neat and often rich; and the entire execution fitted to fix the attention of intelligent and sincere Christians in an uncommon degree. The business of the excellent author, as Editor of the Christian Ob

server, while so useful to others, is here shown to have been not unprofitable to himself. He has evidently observed with a Christian eye and a Christian spirit.

As specimens of the work, we select the following passages. The first is from the Essay entitled "Full assurance of faith."

Among the characteristic properties of faith, there is no one more remarkable than that mentioned by St. John, it 'overcometh the world.' It is evident from universal experience, that no other principle can produce this effect. Faith, however, performs it by a mode of operation peculiar to itself; by presenting to the view things that are invisible, and showing their great superiority to the vanities of time and sense.-The reason why men prefer this world to that which is to come, is not that their judgement is convinced, but that their pas sions are allured. Heaven is allowedly the greater object, but it is distant and invisible whereas the world is ever at hand with its fascinations. It assumes every shape, addresses itself to every passion, obtrudes into every recess. are never free from its influence. Whatever we see around us is the world; and We if we look into our own hearts, the world and worldliness are triumphant there. The voluptuous man worships it in the shape of pleasure; the covetous, of gold; the ambitious, of honor; the retired, of ease. not confined to these, it seeks the lonely retreat, it enters the temple of the It dwells in cities; but, Almighty, it intrudes into the closet of the most heavenly-minded Christian. Persons the most unlike in every other respect are heie equally enslaved. The profligate and the moralist, the infidel and the ostentatious devotee, are under its influence. Business and pleasure, pride and pretended humility, sensual and intellectual enjoyments, all partake more or less of the world. An object thus prepossessing, and thus obtrusive, must of necessity influence our minds, unless something more important be introduced. Now, faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.' nigh. It antedates eternity. It prevents the unhallowed intrusion of the It brings heaven world by pre-occupying its place, and presenting to the mind objects infinitely more important, and which are overlooked only because they are remote and spiritual. Upon every earthly scene it inscribes, Vanity of vanities, all is vanity;' while it invests everything relating to a future world with inconceivable importance. Men in general view heaven as a dream and earth as a reality, and their conduct corresponds to their perceptions; but faith reverses the scene, and thus it overcometh the world.'"

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The following is the conclusion of the Essay on the "Full assurance of hope."

"It is delightful to behold the advanced spiritual traveller, after the fatigues of his toilsome day, arriving in the evening of life within sight of his eternal home. Elevated, like Moses, upon the heights of Pisgah, far above the busy crowd with whom he has so long associated, he is enabled from the serene eminence on which he stands to behold at once the country he has left, and that to which he is hastening. He looks back upon his chequered path, surprised that obstacles which now appear so trifling, compared with the importance of the objects in view, should so long have retarded his progress. The interposing mountains which once he thought impassable, have now lost their asperities, and appear but as airy clouds in the distant horizon. With sorrow he retraces his frequent deviations from the direct path in search of giddy phantoms, which oftentimes, after all his efforts, eluded his pursuit, or if obtained, proved but an encumbrance to him in his arduous pilgrimage. Animated by the beauty of the country which lies before him, and which is separated from him only by the dark river of death that rolls along its sullen wave to the ocean of eternity, he looks back with regret and wonder upon that infatuation which so often induced him to prefer the trifles of the scene through which he was journeying to the celestial glories of yon blissful shore. fore these things which are behind,' he reaches forth to those which are beForgetting therefore. His hopes are in heaven. He adopts the language of the Psalmist, 'What wait I for? Surely my hope is in thee, O Lord.' I wait not for any thing mutable or terrestrial. Wealth, and honors, and long life, will not sa