blame on Mr. Stow's dialect, of which I know nothing; only it is clear from the children's repeated "Soor!" that they did not understand it. They might have said the same to a Londoner asking them the name of their village, or their own name. The dialect of Somersetshire is unintelligible in Yorkshire or Northumberland; and it is not fair to the children of a school, where a provincial dialect prevails, to suppose them stupid or ignorant because they cannot follow the diction of a stranger who does not speak the accustomed language of their locality. It is incredible that not one of a dozen boys of from ten to twelve years old, in the highest class of a school" in good order," and who "read very fluently," should not be able, after three or four of them had read in succession that "Eli had two sons," to say how many sons he had, or whether he had any; or whether his sons had a father; or whether Eli himself was "a man, a bird, or a beast." Their reiterated "Soor, Soor," shews that they were puzzled or abashed; for it cannot be doubted that they could have answered such questions well enough in their own cottages. Though I wish that Mr. Stow had refrained from narrating such one-sided tales, I am not the less sensible of the great importance of his efforts to promote a judicious plan of training teachers; for as to mere instruction in a "system" of managing a school, be that system what it may, it is quite inadequate to the main purposes of education; which are not simply to teach children to read, write, and cipher; but to lead them to reflect, to feel, and to act; to train them up to fear God, to love their neighbour, and to be useful and ornamental members of society; to understand spiritually, and to value, and pray over, their Bible,-not solely or chiefly to store up its contents in their memory; and in the striking language of the English baptismal service, to urge them, by God's grace "not to be ashamed to confess the faith of Christ crucified, and manfully to fight under his banner, against sin, the world, and the devil; and to continue his faithful soldiers and servants unto their lives' end." X. X. ON OPENING DIVINE SERVICE WITH SINGING. THE custom which prevails in some churches, of opening Divine And the Church, a little farther on in the service, immediately after the Lord's-prayer, puts into the lips of the minister the prayer, "O Lord, open thou our lips; and our mouth shall shew forth thy praise :" so that we do not venture upon praise without a humble petition for God's aid in the same. Then all standing up, commence the praises of God in the "Venite exultemus Domino," which, if sung, would indicate to the people at once that it was a hymn they were using. How different and far more beautiful this, than (in contradiction to the whole spirit of the service) praising God on the moment of entering church, as if we had never sinned and incurred his heavy displeasure. If you can give these remarks insertion in your very valuable Magazine, you will greatly oblige one who has been for many years A CONSTANT READER. THE INFALLIBLE CERTAINTY OF GOD'S THREATENED JUDGMENTS. For the Christian Observer. ALL who are familiar with the words of eternal life, often turn to the pathetic expostulation which closes the twenty-third chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem,' as furnishing one of the most beautiful and affecting specimens of the infinite tenderness of the Divine nature to be found even in the Sacred Volume. Jesus, weeping at the grave of Lazarus, lets in upon the night of human sorrow and depression a cheering ray of Divine sympathy. Jesus, weeping over guilty and perishing Jerusalem, makes us acquainted, in some small degree, with the riches of the goodness, and forbearance, and long-suffering of God; and affords another proof, if proof were requisite, of the Apostle's cheering assertion, that "we have not an High Priest who cannot be touched with a feeling of our infirmities." But to view this passage as an isolated text, would be to lose much of its pathos, and to miss altogether a most important moral principle which it conveys. If we consider the context in which this passage is set, like some diamond gem of light, some brilliant solitary star in a lowering midnight sky,—the holy indignation which immediately precedes it; the calm and fixed determination of purpose which immediately follows it; not only will this burst of love beam with intenser brightness from between those gloomy and portentous clouds; but also a most important and most necessary lesson will be conveyed to impenitence and unbelief, as to the awful and infallible certainty of God's threatened judgments. There is, perhaps, no more serious obstacle, in the human mind, to repentance and reformation, than the vague idea entertained of the Divine mercy as if mercy were the same weak passion in God as in man; and, at the cry of suffering, however merited, should swallow up all the other attributes, -the truth, the justice, the holiness, of God. But the passage before us strikes at the very root of this dangerous delusion. It exhibits to us Christ,-the image of the invisible God, our Judge at the day of final judgment; not only denouncing, but actually commencing to execute, His judgments upon the impenitent and this, not in wrath, but in sorrow; with eyes suffused with tears; with a heart beating in sympathy; and with the tenderest feelings of commiseration for those very sufferings which he was himself about to inflict. Thus, while it magnifies the Divine compassion to the utmost, it but establishes more strongly the awful fact, that it were impossible, even for the Omnipotent God, to exercise mercy : towards man, unless in full harmony with His other attributes; and in full accordance with those holy laws which He has graciously revealed to us, as being the essential principles, the fixed and unalterable rules, of His moral government. In short, it convinces us, that even though the passing of that sentence, "Depart, accursed, into everlasting fire," were to melt the Divine bosom with a still deeper sorrow than did that mysterious sacrifice in which the Father spared not his own, his well-beloved Son, yet that God will not, because He cannot, consistently with his unchangeable attributes, at the bar of final judgment, pardon the impenitent, the unbelieving, and the unsanctified. But let us consider the context. In the first verse of the chapter we are told that "Jesus spake to the multitude, and to his disciples, saying, The Scribes and the Pharisees sit in Moses' seat: all, therefore, whatsoever they bid you observe, that observe and do; but do not ye after their works for they say, and do not." He then proceeds, as far as the thirteenth verse, to describe the character of the Scribes and Pharisees; and to detail various instances of their pride and hypocrisy; at the thirteenth verse, He passes from the consideration of their personal character to that of their agency and influence upon society. And from this to the thirtyfourth verse, he pours out a torrent of holy indignation against these blind guides, who shut up the kingdom of heaven against men, and took from them the key of knowledge: who neither entered in themselves, nor suffered those who were entering to go in. This whole passage furnishes a dark and awful counterpart of the sermon on the Mount. In the one, our Lord pronounces eight beatitudes: in the other, he denounces eight woes. He brings home against the Scribes and Pharisees several charges of the most heinous nature, and to each charge attaches a woe : "Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!" because they began by perverting the ignorant: by making those whom they, from their education and office, should have guided into the ways of truth, twofold more the children of hell than themselves and because they went on, through the various stages of covetousness, of hypocrisy, of persecution, until, by their conduct, they became witnesses unto themselves that they were the children of them that killed the prophets. He then proceeds, at the thirty-second verse, in one of those awful addresses, which remind us of His mysterious words to Judas at the last passover, "What thou doest, do quickly!" thus to call upon them, "Fill ye up then the measure of your fathers. Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?" And now, when their ruin was proclaimed by the lips of Infallible Truth, and they were given over to a reprobate mind, instead of removing, as we should have expected, He proceeds to declare that on this very account He would accumulate upon them, means of grace, which he well knew, and declares, they would reject, and abuse to their destruction: that, thus, the disease might be brought to its crisis; and the harvest might ripen for the sickle of destruction: that, thus, God might be justified in His saying; and clear when he entered into judgment: and that His sentence of final reprobation might be vindicated to assembled men and angels. "Wherefore, behold, I send unto you prophets, and wise men, and scribes and some of them ye shall kill and crucify; and some of them shall ye scourge in your synagogues, and : : persecute them from city to city that upon you may come all the righteous blood shed upon the earth, from the blood of righteous Abel, unto the blood of Zacharias son of Barachias, whom ye slew between the temple and the altar. Verily I say unto you, All these things shall come upon this generation." The view of the tremendous judgments which were coming upon them, and which these words suggested, opened the flood-gates of tenderness and compassion in His Divine mind :-and He who, but a moment before, had denounced them as hypocrites,-as serpents, as a generation of vipers; now bursts into that pathetic and affecting expostulation, “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem !"-pleads with them his own patience and long-suffering: looks back through every vista of unforgetting memory upon the illuminated scenes of past endearment; of proffered mercy and love: complains, tenderly and mournfully complains, of their infatuated blindness, their obstinate impenitence and hardness of heart. and describes, by one of the most touching images of parental tenderness, -a hen gathering her chickens under her wings, and shielding them, by her own life, from every assault of the enemy,-describes the constancy, "How often,"-the willingness, "would I,"-the tenderness, of His paternal care and anxiety, "have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings," — and the cause of the failure of all these efforts, and of their impending ruin, "and ye would not!" But do we not detect here the symptoms of vacillation and relenting,—of what, in man, would be called amiable weakness? Has not the sword of righteous vengeance dropped from the Divine arm? Has not mercy so rejoiced against judgment, as that God's truth, and justice, and holiness, have failed? Is, then, this church of hypocrites; of murderers of the prophets; of haters of God; to be continued in the possession of its prostituted privileges; and, when its iniquity is full, still to stand forth before the world as the church of Christ? Is this mother of harlots, wallowing in impurity, and drunk with the blood of saints, to be acknowledged as the chaste spouse of Christ; and received back to the arms of Holy Love, impenitent, impure, unsanctified? By no means. Our Lord proceeds to confirm the sentence; and to announce those miseries over which he mourned, "Behold, your house is left unto you desolate. For I say unto you, Ye shall not see me henceforth, till ye shall say, Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord." He not only announces, but proceeds to execute, this; "Jesus went out, and departed from the temple." This, observe, was our Lord's last visit to the temple and in thus formally quitting it for ever, He abandoned this infatuated and devoted people to final impenitence and hopeless ruin. When Christ has departed from the temple, no means of grace can be efficacious: its rites and ceremonies can be but weak and beggarly elements; its oblations vain; and all its sacrifices and prayers but an abomination unto the Lord. : Before entering further upon the principle which I desire to inculcate, I would guard against a possible abuse of the context. It might be said, indeed has been,-Since Christ is proposed in Scripture as our great Exemplar, do not the indignation which He here evinces against the Scribes and Pharisees, and the severity of expression which he adopts towards them, justify us in the indulgence of a similar spirit; and in the adoption of similar language? I admit, that there is a holy indignation against sin which is not only unblameable, but laudable; and which generally accompanies a fervent zeal for the glory of God, and for the true happiness of man. I admit, that not only to "love righteousness," but to "hate iniquity," is an essential feature of resemblance, in our conformity to the image of Christ. But the exercise of this feeling, as of many other legitimate feelings, passions, and affections, should rather be guarded, and repressed, than argued for, and indulged. For I might well ask, Who is there, whose uniform consistency of profession and conduct; whose ardent zeal, and whose close walk with God, justify him in indulging this spirit? Who is there who does not find sufficient in his own bosom to humble him to the dust; and to teach him that the only feelings which he should indulge towards a fellow sinner, are those of deep commiseration and regret? Still, however, I admit that there is a holy indignation against sin: but each who asserts it should take good heed lest he condemn himself in that thing which he alloweth. He should take good heed to the Apostle's caution, " Be ye angry, and sin not." He should be well assured that his anger is indeed against sin, and not the effect of pride or peevishness of a carnal spirit, and an unsubdued temper. Nor is this difficult to ascertain, if we honestly desire to know the truth. Holy anger against sin is ever intimately allied to love for the person of the sinner. Our Lord, we are told on another occasion, looked round about "with anger:"-but why?"being grieved at the hardness of their hearts." And, as in the case before us, we ever find that a holy indignation against sin does not harden, but soften, the heart and never fails to thaw, and to dissolve it, in the meltings of Divine compassion. "The first and great commandment ever generates, as its legitimate offspring, the second, which is like unto it." The chord of tender mercy towards the perishing sinner vibrates to that touch which wakes the chord of holy indignation in the Divine, or in the regenerated, bosom. In this very chapter, in which our Lord adopts a severity of expression never recorded, on any other occasion, as having passed His lips of love, we find it tempered by one of the most tender and pathetic bursts of feeling to be found in the Sacred Volume. : When our Lord uttered those awfully portentous words which sealed the fiat of Jerusalem's doom; and which struck, as it were, the key note of the tenderest mood in the Divine mind, " All these things shall come upon this generation!" his omniscient Mind cast a prophetic glance into futurity, and saw the tremendous judgments that, within the short space of forty years, were to be transacted on that very spot, on which He then, for the last time, stood. These he proceeds to detail fully to his disciples. He saw Jerusalem, the faithful city, become a harlot : once righteousness dwelt therein, but now murderers!" He saw those who, by privilege and profession, were separated as a holy people unto the Lord, running to every excess of riot and as the world, in the days before the flood, eating and drinking; planting and building; marrying and giving in marriage : their heart and their treasure on earth, like the Gentiles who knew not God and, in the infatuation of unbelief, while the flood and the fire of Divine vengeance were ready to outburst upon them, dreaming of deliverance from the Roman yoke; and of coming ages of prosperity, triumph, and enjoyment. He looked upon the magnificent buildings CHRIST. OBSERV. No. 59. : 4 Q |