restrained within its

proper boundaries ; but it is not annihilated nor thrown prostrate in the dust. The province of reason is to judge of the evidences that the Bible has indeed proceeded from God. This point ascertained, it must receive with humble reverence the doctrines and commands which God has given in his word. Reason and the Bible are both the works of God. God is true-he is "The truth," and it is impossible to conceive of his creating a faculty in man, which (rightly used) shall contradict his own word. Accordingly, the reason of man when untrammelled by his vicious heart, assents to the revelation of God. The Bible contains much that is above its grasp, but nothing that contradicts it. For instance, the nature and attributes of God are beyond reason; its most mighty powers cannot embrace the vast idea; but there is nothing repulsive to its perceptions in the revelation which God has made of himself. Nay, it is most reasonable to suppose that we cannot by searching find out God, nor understand his nature to perfection. But all false pretenders to religious authority, shock the principles of reason, and necessarily demand its entire dismission. And when it is raised to the supreme place, it shocks itself, and demonstrates the falsity of its position, by contradicting its own decisions; as when the neologian and the infidel put reason above Scripture, and run into the most absurd and irrational fancies.

The point to be determined then, is, "Is the Bible what it professes to be-a revelation from God?" A glance at the evidences of the truth of the Bible, is all that can be given within the brief space allotted here. It is not necessary to detail the arguments for the truth and inspiration of the Old Testament, for it is recorded in Gospel history, that the Lord Jesus Christ expressly recognized the Jewish Scriptures as 'the word of God," and severely reproved the Scribes and Pharisees for "making it of none effect through their traditions.” (Mark vii. 13.) He condemned them for. " teaching for doctrine the commandments of men," (Mark vii. 7,) and “laying aside the commandment of God." The term, the Scriptures," although its literal meaning is merely writings, was used by the Jews to designate sacred writings alone, and Jesus applies that term to the Old Testament. That every book which we now include in the Old Testament, was included in the Jewish canon; and that that canon contained

no other books, is proved by the hints of ancient Jewish writers, and the commentaries of the Rabbis. The Saviour recognizes the whole canon when he speaks of "the law, and the prophets, and the Psalms," for the Jews classified the whole of the canonical books in this manner. For the books called the Apocrypha, there are no such evidences. The Jewish church never received them, and they were not admitted into the Christian church until it had suffered sad declensions; indeed, it was by the council of Trent, that they were first formally recognized, and that with the wiew of perpetuating popish errors.

It follows, therefore, that if Christianity be true, and the New Testament Scriptures inspired, the Old Testament Scriptures are also "The word of God."

The proofs of the historical accuracy of the Gospel narratives are exceedingly interesting. They rest upon various indisputable facts. Profane history confirms them, without the smallest intention of doing so. The appearance of Jesus Christ-the spread of his religion-the sufferings of the early christians, may be gathered from heathen and Jewish writers. The sufferings of the primitive Christians, form a grand argument for the truth of Christianity. Men forsook all that earth counts precious; braved the most terrible hardships, and endured the most painful deaths, simply that they might obey the injunctions of their Master, by preaching the Gospel to all nations. The followers of Mahomet braved death for him; but it was a death of glory amidst the excitements of a battle field. They might conquer, and power and honor would be theirs; they might fall, but then their death was glorious; and it was to be followed by a sensual paradise, quite suited to the desires of the unregenerate heart. But the early Christian's life was ignominious, and his death that of a criminal: even the heaven which he expected, was a state quite uncongenial to a natural man, such as would render an unrenewed soul miserable. The first teachers of Christianity must have been deeply convinced of the truth of the religion which they taught.

They had been

And they were competent judges of its truth. with Jesus of Nazareth; had listened to his words of heavenly wisdom; had gazed upon his stupendous miracles; had been witnesses of his resurrection. All their interests prompted them

to a rigid scrutiny of his claims, for he concealed not from them that they must suffer the loss of all things in his service. Yet they entered that service, and persevered in it. Such are the men who penned the New Testament, and who demand for their writings, the authority of "Scripture."

But in order fully to accede to this demand, we must be persuaded that the books of the New Testament are really inspired. On this point there are two species of evidence—the external and the internal.

The external evidence arises from the character of the men who assert their own inspiration, from the miracles they performed, and from the fulfilment of the prophecies they uttered.

It must be proved that the books are really the works of the men whose names they bear—that they are genuine, before they can receive confirmation from the character of those men. We have already seen that the first teachers of Christianity were credible witnesses of the facts which they relate concerning Jesus Christ. Their sincerity is proved; and they could not be deceived, for they profess to relate the things which they saw and heard.

The primitive Christians, who had the best opportunities of judging, received the books of the New Testament, as the works of the first teachers of Christianity. In speaking of the deference due to the writings of the primitive Christians, we must be careful to guard against the errors so prevalent in the present day on this point. These writers are most valuable as relating matters of fact; as completing the historical evidence of Christianity; but they ought not to be looked upon as guides in doctrines. Indeed, they do not aspire to such an honor; they constantly point to the Scriptures as the sole guide, and try the opinions of others by this unerring rule, by which also, they intimate that their own must be tried. Therefore, those who set up "the fathers" as having rule over their faith, do so in express opposition to the fathers themselves.

(To be concluded next month.)

S. E. P.

THE CRAFTY TAKEN IN HIS CRAFTINESS. MR. THORPE, afterwards pastor of the independent church at Masborough, near Rotherham, was one of the most virulent opposers of Whitefield. At one of their convivial meetings, he agreed with three of his associates, to mimic this apostle of the eighteenth century. It was arranged that each of them in turn, should open the Bible, and hold forth from the first text that presented itself. Three of them having exhausted their buffoonery, it devolved on Mr. Thorpe to close this very irreverent scene. The first words which caught his eye, were those in Luke xiii. 3, “Except ye repent ye shall all likewise perish." No sooner had he uttered the words, than his mind was affected in a very extraordinary manner. The sharpest pangs of conviction now seized him, and conscience denounced tremendous vengeance on his soul. In a moment he was favored with a clear view of his subject, and divided his discourse more like a divine, who had been accustomed to speak on portions of Scripture, than one who never so much as thought on religious topics, except for the purpose of ridicule. He found no deficiency of matter, no want of utterance; and he has frequently declared, "If ever I preached in my life, by the assistance of the Spirit of God, it was at that time." The impression made upon his mind by the subject, had such an effect upon his manner, that the most ignorant and profane could not but perceive that what he had spoken was with the greatest sincerity. The unexpected solemnity and pertinacity of his address, instead of entertaining the company, first spread a visible depression, and afterwards, a sullen gloom upon every countenance. This sudden change in the complexion of his associates, did not a little conduce to increase the convictions in his own bosom. No individual appeared disposed to interrupt him; but on the contrary, their attention was deeply engaged with the pointedness of his remarks, for many of his sentences, as he often related, made, to his apprehension, his own hair stand erect.

When he left the table not a syllable was uttered concerning the wager, but a profound silence pervaded the company. Mr. Thorpe immediately withdrew, without taking the least notice of any person present, and returned home with very painful reflections, and in the deepest distress imaginable. Happily for

him, this was his last bacchanalian revel; his impressions were manifestly genuine, and from that period, the connexion between him and his former companions was entirely dissolved. Thus, by a sovereign and almost unexampled act of divine grace, in a place where, and at a time when, it was least expected, “the prey was taken from the mighty, and the lawful captive delivered."-Life of Countess of Huntingdon.

ANTHROZÖOPHYTES AND HUMAN SWALLOWS.
(From 'Life in Earnest," by Rev. James Hamilton.)

THOSE of you who are familiar with the shore, may have seen attached to the inundated reef a creature, whether a plant or animal you could scarcely tell, rooted to the rock as a plant might be, and twirling its long tentacula as an animal would do. This plant-animal's life is somewhat monotonous, for it has nothing to do but grow and twirl its feelers, float in the tide, or fold itself upon its foot-stalk when that tide has receded, for months and years together.

Now, would it not be very dismal to be transformed into a zoophyte? Would it not be an awful punishment, with your human soul still in you, to be anchored to a rock, able to do nothing but spin about your arms or fold them up again, and knowing no variety, except when the receding ocean left you in the daylight, or the returning waters plunged you into the green depths again, or the sweeping tide brought you the prize of a young periwinkle or an invisible star-fish? But what better is the life you are spontaneously leading? What greater variety marks your existence, than chequers the life of the sea-anemone? Does not one day float over you after another, just as the tide floats over it, and find you much the same, and leave you vegetating still? Are you more useful? What real service to others did you render yesterday? What tangible amount of occupation did you overtake in the 168 hours of which last week consisted? And what higher end in living have you than that polypus? You go through certain mechanical routines of rising, and dressing, and visiting, and dining, and going to sleep again; and are a little roused from your usual lethargy by the arrival of a friend, or the effort needed to write some note of ceremony. But as it