earnest under the power of godliness; while the occasional opposition and resistance that he experienced from the enemies of all religion, only served, as it will ever do, with minds of a similar mould, to stimulate him to redoubled zeal in his own appropriate work." The tie which connects a pastor to his flock is intimate and endearing; but more especially in remote rural parishes. In such districts, where the minds of the people are yet simple and uncontaminated, the minister is regarded as their father, counsellor and guide. This was remarkably the case with Mr Martin during his incumbency at Glenisla. The parishioners at once respected, admired and loved him; and when at last they were called upon to part with one who, in the faithful discharge of his duties, had gained their confidence and esteem, they mourned as for the loss of a beloved relation. In the year 1828, Mr Martin was unanimously chosen by the kirk-session of St. Cuthbert's to be minister of Stockbridge Chapel, Edinburgh. It was not without reluctance and painful regret, that the offer was accepted. The pastor of Glenisla had firmly established him self in the affections of his flock; and to break asunder for ever a relation so tender, was to his amiable and feeling heart peculiarly trying. But it was sufficient to him that such was the will of his Master. He acceded to the call, and entered upon his charge at Edinburgh, with a simple dependence upon the strength of the Almighty. The text from which he first addressed his people in Stockbridge Chapel was beautifully expressive of his feeling,-"I was with you in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling." A brief view of the result of Mr Martin's exertions in the extensive and interesting field in which he was now called to labour, will be best given in the words of his biographer, who appears well fitted both to understand and to appreciate the efforts of a faithful pastor. "He was not long settled at Stockbridge, until the mode of his preaching, and his whole character, laid a powerful arrest on the minds of his congregation. At first he shewed a considerable degree of reserve, arising from the natural unobtrusiveness of his disposition,that delicacy which made him instinctively retreat from every degree of observation which was not required by his real duties,—and from his antipathy to every thing like display, or to be made the object of a merely ceremonious deference, or of that bustling attention which is so often paid to those who are invested with the clerical office. But after the lapse of a short time, by his uniformly calm and dignified demeanour, he commanded the respect of every one who had occasion to observe him, and was regarded as a man of lofty integrity and independence of mind, as well as truly a man of God. There was a quickness and discernment, as well as a solemnity and impressiveness, accompanying all his intercourse with his people, which went beforehand, as it were, to gain an entrance to the mind for every thing he said; whilst his pulpit-discourses, ere long, discovered to those who attended to them, distinct traces of much thought and scriptural study, and were delivered with so much sincerity and simplicity, as made almost every one feel how much he ought to be interested in the truths to which he listened, seeing that the preacher was himself so earnest in inculcating them. "No one who attentively followed the course of his public services could avoid observing the successive steps of his improvement in the true art of preaching. He gradually threw off every thing that was juvenile, either in matter or manner,-he cast away all inflated expressions, all mere ornament in the illustration of his subjects; he dealt but sparingly in imaginative description, and not at all in mere generalizing or empty declamation. Textuality, he often said, appeared to him to be one of the chief excellencies of a sermon,-the bringing out by deep, and patient, and prayerful research, what was the mind of the Divine Spirit in the Word, and, after having exhibited it in all its meaning and force, pressing it home on the understandings and consciences of men. He was always afraid of being guilty, and of being thought even capable, of giving fanciful interpretations or adaptations of Scripture. If, in the course of his illustration, he met with any striking truth, any important principle, or ascertained fact, in verification of which he could appeal to something which was obvious and undeniable in the experience or consciences of his hearers, upon this he seized, and, as if anxious to render it the prominent point on which their minds should rest, and that it should become a permanent element in their reflections, or interweave itself, as it were, with the hidden workings of each individual bosom, he recalled it again and again in the course of the application of his subject. external, which formed the chief ingredient in his mode "This it was, and nothing merely adventitious or of preaching, and rendered it so interesting to those in whose hearts he succeeded in touching those chords that were in unison with the feelings of his own; which, indeed, is the true secret of the success of any public speaker. Founding his arguments upon ascertained facts or acknowledged truths, and referring to something in his hearers with which these correspond, and of which they themselves are intimately conscious, he finds access at once to the seat of conviction and the springs of conduct. By telling aloud all that is in their hearts, he makes them feel as if he not only had been privy to their thoughts, but had been the witness of certain processes in their minds of which they themselves had hardly been aware, but which are now vividly recalled they wonder, perhaps, how this man comes to know so much of their secret character, or how, at least, they had never heard these things brought home to them before. And hence, in cases where there is guilelessness and honesty, the preacher comes insensibly to be intrenched in their affections as if he were a bosom-friend. If any one, therefore, is desirous of knowing what it was that rendered Mr Martin's preaching so interesting to those who regularly waited on his ministry, and to whom it was blessed to be so useful, it may be said, that, along with the humble and dependent spirit in which the whole was done, and which gave to all his studies and discourses their appropriate character, it consisted in nothing more than this,after drawing forth what is in the Word of God, and then what is to be found in the depths of the human heart, making the one of these, in some penetrating, instructive, or consolatory way, as the case might require, to bear upon the other. With this remark, however, it is necessary prominently to conjoin another,that one of the uniform characteristics of his preaching, was to be found in the strictly evangelical strain by which it was pervaded. His own mind being conclusively arrested by the great doctrines of the Cross, and his heart moving invariably under the influence of an overflowing sense of redeeming love, he was constrained, by the moral impulse of the new nature which was strengthening and maturing within him, habitually to present and to enforce upon others, that which was both the food and the cordial of his own spiritual being. And this being done in perfect keeping with good taste and propriety, and with the classical and academic style of his whole mind and character, the manner and outward form of it, at least, could give no offence to the most refined or cultivated hearer. "There was one circumstance, with regard to his sermons, which sometimes pressed upon his mind,—the solemn apprehension which he felt, of speaking in certain cases above the range of his own experience. He often remarked, that surely this thought must be harassing to every good man; and that it seemed a very awful thing for a servant of God to be proclaiming truths in which he himself did not fully and perfectly sympathize, or representing the various features in the character of true believers, the spiritual nature of Christ's kingdom, and the deep exercises which occur in the hearts of Christians, far beyond what he has ever found to be true in his own case. In like manner, after having been called into some scene of heavy affliction, he frequently observed, that he was afraid he was unfit to be a minister of comfort, seeing he himself had never known the depth of any such sorrow. Whilst there is something both very quickening and affecting in these thoughts, they must be considered as affording no equivocal proof of the tenderness and humility of the mind in which they dwelt; and it is nevertheless most true, that one reason why Mr Martin's discourses in public, as well as his exhortations in private, were so impressive to those who heard them, is to be found in the fact, that they came to their hearts as being evidently the result of his own practical knowledge, and the real transcript of his own feelings." The public ministrations of the sanctuary, conducted in the manner thus described, could not fail to be attended, under the blessing of the Spirit, with the happiest effects. But it was not in the pulpit alone that Mr Martin's pastoral fidelity and Christian worth were apparent. "In the performance of the more private or domestic duties of a clergyman, he was not less exemplary. The visiting of his congregation, and especially the families of the poor, was performed with the most untiring constancy, and nothing was allowed to interfere with the discharge of this part of his work. It was seldom possible to prevail on him to enjoy a single day's relaxation, let the occasion be ever so inviting; and that never, if the case of any one of his people was at all pressing on his mind, to whom his visits might prove of the smallest comfort or advantage. In dealing with those in the lower ranks of life, his kind, yet dignified manner immediately gained their confidence and respect. They never could recognise ought in him but the clergyman, and the clergyman in no other light than that of their real friend. His remarkable tact in this department of duty exemplified how possible it is for a wise and good man to win his way to the affections even of the most insensible and vulgar, when he comes to them with a single-minded concern for their spiritual interests; for there is, in the very roughest form of human nature, something which commends a sustained course of kind and judicious dealing, first to the attention, and gradually to the heart. Although there was occasionally a boldness in his reproofs, and a fidelity in his exhortations, amounting almost to sternness, yet there was not an individual among the many for whose good he thus privately watched and laboured, who did not feel the strongest reverence for his character, and very few who did not entertain towards him a kindlier sentiment. In addition to his course of domestic visitation at Stockbridge, he established a Home-mission in the district, with two agents to conduct it, the fund for maintaining which was, to a large extent, supplied by himself, and he frequently preached in the stations during the week. He had also meetings throughout the year for the different classes of the young persons of his congregation, and for those who sought admission, or who had been admitted to the Lord's Table. These occasions were very solemn and impressive; to them, there is reason to think, that not a few can look back with peculiar interest as the period of their first deep impressions of religion; and among the most valued articles in the repositories of some of these individuals, there may perhaps be found the notes of the instructions which then, as well as in public, they received from the lips of their faithful guide and humble-minded pastor." Such faithfulness and unwearied perseverance in the fulfilment of his ministerial duties, were not long in drawing forth from the Christian community, the strongest mark of their approbation and esteem. Upon the decease of Dr Thomson, Mr Martin was selected to occupy the pulpit of that distinguished individual. To one who entertained such lowly views of himself, the nomination was startling. He felt, however, that he would not be justified in refusing to accept the call to St George's Church, knowing, as he did, that in the work of Christ, no man is permitted to shrink from duty, under a sense of his own weakness, but the more such a feeling weighs down the spirit, just so much the more room is there for the exercise of that faith, which can realize the Christian firmness and heroism of the Apostle when he said, through Christ strengthening me, I can do all things." 46 66 He was admitted minister of St George's on the 6th October 1831, and entered upon his new sphere of exertion "with a mind," to use the words of his biographer, at once modest and courageous, diffident, yet resolved." His present charge differed, in many important particulars, from that which he had recently left; its duties were more varied, and much more arduous. But, proceeding in the strength of the Lord, he was enabled to walk in the steps of his illustrious predecessor, and thus to endear himself to all classes of his parishioners. At length, so great was the confidence reposed in Mr Martin, that he was solicited to take upon him, in addition to his other labours, those of Secretary to the Bible Society, an office which had also become vacant by the death of Dr Thomson. The duties which devolved upon him, in consequence of his acceptance of this truly honourable situation, were such as well accorded with the high-toned religious feeling of his mind. It was, in his estimation, an exalted privilege to be the instrument of disseminating the pure Word of God throughout the World; and the fine Christian spirit which pervaded his speech at the annual meeting of the Society in 1832, encouraged all who heard it, to hope that the mantle of the late honoured Secretary had descended upon his successor. Mysterious, however, and inscrutable, are the ways of God. He who now stood forth in one of the proudest positions which a Christian could wish to occupy, was destined, ere long, to be cut down in the midst of his usefulness. Not more than a year had elapsed, from the date of his promotion to St George's Church, when some very alarming symptoms in the state of his health began to make their appearance; and on the 28th September he was suddenly seized with a violent discharge of blood, apparently from his lungs. "This occurrence, though, from the feelings which he had experienced for several days, it did not appear very much to surprise him, yet awakened the greatest apprehensions as to its consequences. He was as calm, however, and composed, as if nothing extraordinary had happened. Being placed in an upright posture, and required not to make the least exertion, or to speak, he presented the very picture of patience and submission. To one of his friends who came to him soon after this attack, he beckoned with a smile of complacency | This new affliction is very trying, especially at the time for a slate which he had provided in order to communicate with those around him, and, in allusion to his own circumstances, and with reference to a passage on the subject of faith, in one of Traill's sermons, on which they had been some days before conversing, he wrote down these words: When the wearied traveller is unable to proceed a step farther, he can yet lie down when he is bidden,-this is faith.'' In the course of a few weeks Mr Martin recovered from this attack, at least so far as partially to resume his duties. By the kindness of his clerical brethren, who frequently officiated for him, and the tender sympathy of his congregation, his mind was considerably relieved from the anxiety which would otherwise have oppressed him. His bodily weakness, however, still continued, and, at length, having engaged an assistant, he retired, for a time, to Rothsay, where his health considerably improved. But his recovery was merely temporary, and after a short period, his former disease returned, though with diminished violence. His medical friends now strongly advised him to try a change of climate, recommending particularly that he should spend the winter at Nice. It was with no small reluctance that Mr Martin was prevailed upon, at length, to assent to this proposal. But the tender sensibilities, the amiable feelings of the man, yielded to the resignation of the Christian. It was the will of his heavenly Father, and to that will he felt it to be at once his duty and his privilege to bow. After having made the necessary arrangements, therefore, for the supply of service in his church and parish, he left Edinburgh on the 28th September 1833. At Nice, he remained three months, during which, he was able to ride out every day; and in addition to the enjoyment which he derived from the beautiful scenery in the neighbourhood, his mind was refreshed by the delightful intercourse which he had with some Christian friends who happened to be residing in the town. As descriptive of his feelings at this time, we may quote the following passage from his journal: “I am just as happy as I could be at such a distance from my field of duty, and most thankful for past and present mercies. The Sabbath is the day when I feel my exile most. Last Sabbath, and during the psalmody, when some note was struck that brought my own dear flock before me, I do confess that I wept bitterly in the chapel, and could hardly get myself composed again. Surely I have been most self-willed and rebellious, when no less severe and bitter a chastisement than this would reclaim me !'-To-day I went to the Protestant Chapel built by Lady Olivia Sparrow, and after service visited the little cemetry. It contained the tombs of several of whom I had heard, and of Lady Maxwell, one of the last, who has left a sweet savour of piety and charity behind her at Nice. A mournful place this little burying-ground is! Why it should be more so than any other burial-ground is not very clear to reason or to faith; and yet it is one of the last feelings with which a man parts, the desire of mingling his dust with those of his kindred; though the poet has truly said, that a man can have only one country, but he may anywhere find a grave. " In a similar state of calm, almost pleasing, melancholy, he seems to have penned the following remarks one Sabbath, when at Rome. "I have been falling off ever since I came to Rome, and now find myself so weak that I can hardly walk. on which my friends had built so much. Yet I bless God, though I have never been worse than I am now, since my first illness, when I was very differently situated, that I feel no disposition to question the wisdom and goodness which run through this dispensation. Sometimes there was a shrinking from suffering, and a wish that all were soon over, rather than have many such conflicts to meet; but generally my mind has reposed upon God, as the present help in time of trouble, and left all consequences to him. I cannot forget the total freedom I have enjoyed from all anxiety about my journey homewards, or how I shall be able to travel. I mention this, as so contrary to my natural disposition, which is so anxious. I hope it is not indifference or recklessness, but springs from confidence in God, who is where one dies, if he dies in the Lord, and falls asleep will order all things aright. O how small a matter it in Jesus!" While at Rome his health was gradually declining, and he became anxious to set out, with the design, if possible, of reaching home. He had proceeded no farther than Leghorn, however, when he was compelled to stop. He arrived at that town in a very exhausted state, and took up his residence in the San Marco Hotel, kept by Mr and Mrs Thomson, both natives of Scotland. It is rather a curious circumstance, that in passing a night at this house, on his way to Rome, he expressed a wish, that, if it was the Divine will that he should not return to his native country, he might be permitted to die in that inn. And that was the very place, where, amid the affectionate kindness of Christian friends, this devoted servant of Christ ended his days. The following passages from the letters of Mr Hare, the English clergyman at Leghorn, and of Mr and Mrs Thomson, of the hotel, are furnished by the biographer, as presenting a few particulars of the closing scene. I was "Mr Hare writes,- The decisive change did not take place until the 20th, when the physician who attended him apprised me of his approaching dissolution. From that time, the progress of his disease was rapid; but it was unattended by bodily suffering, and he retained his faculties to the end. On Thursday he breathed his last, without a groan or a struggle not present, but Mr and Mrs Thomson were with him. As soon as they saw his end approaching, they thought of sending for me; but before they could do so, he was no more. I used to visit him every day,-sometimes two or three times in the day,-but he was not able to converse much, and could not hear me do more than read a few verses of the Bible, or make some observations, and pray. He seemed free from pain during his stay here, even his cough was not very troublesome. He was perfectly peaceful, and appeared earnestly to desire to depart. It will be a satisfaction to know that every attention was paid him, not only by the people of the hotel, but also by many of our fellow-countrymen, who felt a deep interest in him. I can fully sympathize in the heartfelt sorrow into which this sad event must plunge the many friends of my dear departed brother. The loss is, indeed, of no common magnitude, both to them and the Church of God. But it ought to be a great assuagement to the bitterness of their grief, that he over whom they mourn, has but made a transition from a scene of much tribulation to a state of untroubled rest and unclouded felicity; and that he is separated from them by a very slight, and, it may be, a very temporary partition.' "On the Sabbath morning,' says Mr Thomson, in a letter to Mr Colclough, I drew his attention to the serenity of the atmosphere. Yes,' said he, this is the day which the Lord made,-you are to have the communion to-day,-"I was glad when they said unto | me, Go ye up unto the house of God,"-will you come back and tell me what you have heard ?'-I did so, but found him unable to attend. "About three hours before his death, on awaking, he found me leaning on his bed, made an effort to get out his hand, and said, with a most pleasing countenance, How kind this is !' I went in again about three o'clock, when he requested me to read a portion of Scripture. I read the 14th chapter of John,-when at the last verse, he made a motion for me to stop, and then fell asleep. In a few minutes, he started hastily, and said, with a strong voice, What is meant by a free port? my reason for asking is, that I wish to import a hundred Bibles here.' These were his last words. About five, I found him dying, took him by the hand, and felt the last feeble pulse. His spirit left its earthly habitation at a quarter after five o'clock."" "In another letter, to Mrs Ogilvy, Mr Martin's sister, Mrs Thomson adds, On our first sight of him, when he was on his way to Rome, our affections were drawn to him, there was something so expressive in his countenance. He was only one night with us, and in the evening joined us in family worship; he was unable to read or explain any part of the Scriptures, but gave us a most excellent prayer. On his return from Rome, he was unfit for any fatigue; so we had not the pleasure of hearing him again. He did not like to see many people, but rather to be alone, to commune with his God; he had great faith, and said that Christ was all in all. His favourite Psalm was the thirty-ninth. He told us how mercifully the Lord had dealt with him, and that his parishioners were so kind and affectionate, and so unwilling to let him give up his church. Dear man! I do not wonder they were much attached to him, he was so noble-minded, pious, amiable, modest, grateful, and afraid to give trouble. He said very frequently,-" What reason have I to be thankful that I suffer so very little pain;" and his death was a very happy one,-just as if he had gone to sleep,-so very calm.' DISCOURSE. BY THE LATE REV. JAMES MARTIN, A. M., Minister of St. George's Parish, Edinburgh. "Knowing therefore the terrors of the Lord, we persuade men."-2 COR. v. 11. THERE are not a few that object to the mode which the Apostle here adopts to lead men to seek after, and to embrace the truth as it is in Jesus. It has been often said on this point, that such representations of divine truth are more likely to harden men in sin than to persuade them to relinquish it; that they are calculated to convey unfavourable views of Religion, especially to young minds; that men are apt from this, to regard it as an unwilling bondage instead of a service in which the affections are to be engaged; and not a few would resent it as savouring of an uncharitable spirit, were you to speak to them of the terrors of the Lord, as if they required to be dealt with as men who were void of any reverence for God or spiritual things. It would be idle to say that there has never been any room for these objections, or that the terrors of the Lord have never been so injudiciously set forth, as to cause needless offence at the truth. Whenever they have been made the sole topic of address, or almost the single one,-whenever they have been dwelt upon in such a way as that their subsidiary character as a means of persuading men to flee from the wrath to come, has been forgotten, or whenever the minister of the law than of the Gospel, such obminister of Jesus Christ has appeared rather a jections as these may be well founded. It may be questioned, however, whether the evil that has ever resulted from this, be at all equal to that which has resulted from an unworthy and sinful concealment of the terrors of the Lord, or whether the danger of offending, by setting forth the fearful misery which shall overtake sinners if they continue impenitent and unbelieving, can ever be so great as that of permitting them to remain undisturbed in their sin for want of faithful and solemn warning of the consequences in which sin must involve them? It is not natural for any of us, certainly, to entertain hard thoughts of our own condition: there is always enough of self-love in every man to make him think and hope well of himself: there are innumerable devices by which we are ever contriving to lull our conscience asleep, and under the influence of which, we are led to apply to ourselves a very different rule of judgment from that which we apply to others; and the man, perhaps, lives not, however far he may be from God and his righteousness, who has not some palliative for his own fears and misgivings, and who cannot say to himself, "Peace, peace, though there be no peace." And I know no way in which this disposition, so ruinous to all true and lasting peace, bition of the terrors of the Lord: by endeavouring can be broken in upon, except by a faithful exhito expose the delusions with which men are blinded, and make them alive to the danger and misery of continuing in them; and, by alarming their fears and wounding their self-interest, to drive them from those refuges to which they are so ready to betake themselves, and which will be found at last only refuges of lies. It is very true, that all this will not make men religious, and that so long as they are moved to forsake their sins, or to obey the law of God, merely from terror, or from the dread of punishment, they want the spiritual principle of all true obedience. It is necessary before their hearts ever can be right toward God, that they should serve him from a principle of love and affection, and this principle no terrors can ever infuse into their minds such a principle as this must come, not from the law, but from the Gospel. But still, though it is not enough for the salvation of any man, that you speak to him of the terrors of the Lord, it may be a means, and that a powerful one, of awakening his mind to the truth which can save him; by rousing his fears, it may lead him to look out for a place of security from the coming desolation; and the experience of thousands who may be at this moment rejoicing in the light and comfort of the Gospel, and who may know the "love of God shed abroad in their hearts by the Holy Spirit," can testify, that the thing which led to all their peace, and joy, and new obedience, was some faithful discovery of the it, and if terrors of the Lord urging them " to flee from the | for turning men to the practice of all righteouswrath to come, and to lay hold of the hope set before them in the Gospel." As for those who are ready to represent such a mode of address as unnecessary, as well as uncharitable, the question with them may be brought to a very short and speedy issue. If you are satisfied on good grounds that your condition is safe, and that you need not be alarmed for the misery that is to overtake the ungodly, what injury can it do you, to hear that misery faithfully exposed? If you need not fear you feel that you have escaped it, then, the more it is insisted on, the more will it awaken your gratitude to him to whom you owe your deliverance, and awaken your compassion more freely for those who are yet exposed to it. If, on the other hand, you have a suspicion that things are not right with you-if you have fears at times, not indistinct, that were you weighed in the balance of the sanctuary you would be found wanting, and if the apprehension of having these fears awakened, and being thereby necessitated to look more narrowly into your spiritual condition, is the ground of your dislike to us when we preach the terrors of the Lord, does not this very circumstance shew the importance of inquiry on your part, and on ours, the importance of employing every means which can urge you to it? And thus the very reason which many give for letting alone the subject altogether, is the very reason for pressing it upon your attention the very reason why, instead of but casually adverting to it, we should bring it at times fully before you; in other words, why, "knowing the terrors of the Lord, we seek to persuade ness. We might reasonably ask those, however, who entertain such sentiments, how they can properly conceive of, or estimate, the love of God, if they be destitute of right views of his just indignation against iniquity, and whether it does not argue ignorance of human nature besides, to suppose that such a view of the divine character is that which needs most to be inculcated upon men, if they would turn unto God? As we have been accustomed to view the love of God to sinners by Jesus Christ, the only way in which we have any representation of the love of God to sinful men at all, we have always understood that the circumstance which gives that love its chief attraction, and ought to commend it most of all to our minds is, that such was the holiness and purity of the divine nature,-such the hatred which God bears to sin, and such the unchangeableness of those threatenings which he hath denounced against it, that when he purposed to "seek and to save that which was lost," no less a sacrifice than that of his own Son was required, in order that this salvation might be consistent with the truth of his declarations against sin, and his determination to punish it; that, in his sacrifice and death, " righteousness and peace met together," and that the chiefest glory of that grace which now comes accredited and sealed to us, is, that it is in perfect harmony with every perfection of rectitude, and purity, and truth, which the principles of our own hearts, as well as the testimony of the Bible, leads men." I am aware, however, that independently of those who object to the preaching of the terrors of the Lord altogether, there are others who would cast it aside on somewhat different grounds. They have, and can have, no objection to men being faithfully told their true condition, and the dangers of a state of sin and unbelief, nor would they, for any of the reasons now stated, have us to let this alone; but, as they apprehend it, the efficacy of this truth is a means for convincing and converting sinners, far inferior to that of other truths equally revealed in the Word of God; and they would rather sink this truth in the view of those which, as they apprehend, are likely to be more prevailing. Aware that the exhibition of the terrors of the Lord will never of itself turn men from the love of sin, and having some foolish fears that men may contract false views of the divine character, from hearing God's hatred of sin, and the punishment with which iniquity shall be visited, enlarged upon, the great and almost single topic on which they would have us dwell, is the love of God. To give them such views of this attribute, as would make them think and believe of God, as though he were all love and compassion to them as sinners, constitutes, as they think, all that is necessary to the exhibition of the Gospel; nor do they hesitate to say, that such a view of the Godhead is the only means necessary, or fit, us to attribute to God. If this be the view of the love of God as revealed to us in Christ Jesus, and that it is so, we might appeal to every page of the New Testament, it might be asked, how, or in what way, you can rightly conceive of, or estimate this love, if you are ignorant or unbelieving of "the terrors of the Lord?" If there was no holy necessity on the part of God to punish sin, then what becomes of the greatest manifestation of his love, in the gift of his own Son to suffer and to die for us? If the terrors of his wrath had no foundation, what foundation can there be for the greatest and most distinguishing characteristic of his love to rest upon? If the one is removed, the other falls along with it; or if the one is not upheld in all its terror, you do, to the same degree, detract from the other: and in speaking to man of "the terrors of the Lord," therefore, there is no necessity that we should forget the tender mercies of the Lord; on the contrary, the more faithfully and fully we declare the one, the better fitted do we become for urging home upon you the other,—the better fitted are we to warn your minds by the truth, that so great was his love, that even "when you were sinners Christ died for you." When it is said that the love of God should form the great, if not the single topic of our preaching-that men have already, whether from the testimony of conscience or from the Word of God, sufficient conviction of the terrors of the Lord, and of the indignation which he bears, and will one day manifest against |