from this afflictive stroke. Jesus does not deny the fact. He could undoubtedly have prevented this sickness from issuing in death. Had he been in the house, he would probably have yielded to this importunity-for he was not accustomed to deny the prayer of faith. But to avoid this, and secure the accomplishment of a far higher end, he had purposely continued his absence till the brother was dead and buried, and had been in the grave long enough to reduce his body to a state of putrefaction. Without condemning the weeping sister, he says, thy brother shall rise again.' " This sentiment, though sufficient to revive her faltering faith, was not sufficient to satisfy her present anxiety. Yet in the midst of her apparent feeling of disappointment at Christ's absence, how sweetly appears the cheering and subduing influence of faith, "I know that even now whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee." Now her faith triumphs over her feelings and her fears. This was a just and most enlightened view of the dignity and glory of the Saviour's character. Here was a heart prepared even to anticipate the splendid display of the Saviour's power and grace which was about to take place. How large and worthy, how truly dignified and sublime, was this confession of Martha's confidence - especially when viewed in relation to her dead brother. Now she seems, by casting herself at the feet of Jesus, to have recovered her habitual faith. Her expression seems to intimate, without the appearance of dictation, that she looked upon the resurrection of her brother from the dead as a work just as easy to be performed by Christ as his recovery or healing. Jesus, therefore, condescended at once to meet so noble, so interesting a declaration, with a plain and un

qualified promise-" thy brother shall rise again." How readily does God concede the richest consolation to a true and vigorous faith! What blessings does it not attain! Well hast thou believed, Martha. Christ is able to raise thy brother. O woman, great is thy faith. Encouraged, she now ventures to suggest, that this saying was not quite so clear as she could wish, for it might possibly refer to the general resurrection, in which it seems she formerly believed. Her importunity, therefore, drew from Jesus a still fuller explanation-in which he seems to intimate, that it was not a distant blessing, but a present one, that he intended, although he does not so far explain his intention as to satisfy her curiosity. He kept her faith alive, in hope of attaining what she desired, and yet exercised it by presenting a higher object and a better resurrection. At this, Martha returns to call his sister, who instantly came forth, and cast herself at the feet of Jesus with the same words as Martha had used-" Lord, if thou hadst been here my brother had not died." It had been the theme that had filled their minds ever since his death, and therefore it is no wonder they both spontaneously uttered the same sentiment. How often have we thought the same in reference to some dear friend, over whose remains we have been called to weep-" Lord, if thou hadst been here, thou couldst have saved my father, brother, wife, child." But he was there he is with us, and yet it does not please him to do always what we wish. He may have in reserve for us, as for this family, a greater blessing, and a more signal display of grace, than we have asked. To make the death of a dear relative the means of good to their souls, or the souls of survivors, is more than to have saved them from sickness and

death in compliance with our importunity.

But Mary, the affectionate, devoted Mary, who had anointed the head of Jesus with the box of precious ointment, that splendid token of regard which Christ received as a premonition of his burial, was now at his feet in tears. Martha, too, though not in such extreme sorrow, was by her side. Thomas also, who had come into Judea with his fellowdisciples, prepared to suffer martyrdom with his Master; and many of the Jews, the friends of the family from Jerusalem, were weeping around. It was an interesting group, with Jesus in the midst. At this touching scene, Jesus himself could not refrain from tears. "He groaned in Spirit, and was troubled, and wept." How deep and painful were the emotions of his mind at that moment? These were tears of sympathy with his suffering friends; but that was not all, they

were tears of woe for the bitterness of sin which brought death into our world. He looked at sorrow in its fountain head-he contemplated death in its connexion with sin, and as a holy Judge who inflicts it not willingly, but of necessity. And may we not reasonably imagine, that Christ was at this moment reminded of his own death, which he knew was nigh at hand, and which he could hardly fail to realize on so affecting an occasion, especially when he was holding forth himself to their faith as the resurrection and the life? He foresaw, that the significant anointing he had received of Mary would soon be followed by his burial, and that, bitter as was the cup of which these dear friends now had to drink, a fuller and more bitter one

Let us go that we may die with

him," refers to Christ and not to Lazarus.

It is explained by verse 8th, "The Jews of late sought to stone thee," &c. N. S. No. 28.

was preparing both for them and all the disciples who stood around.

At length he comes to the grave, followed by the mournful train, with the Jewish visitors from Jerusalem, wondering at his love to Lazarus, and little suspecting that he intended any thing more than to accompany the weeping sisters to the tomb, there to mingle his tears with theirs, and to express, over the remains of the departed brother, the strength of his attachment and respect. But Christ had a far higher purpose. Again his groans were audible, when he saw the grave, for it was a cave, and a stone lay upon itit was the picture of his own. But these groans were heard by him who best understood their full and mysterious import. (See Heb. v. ver. 7.) And now, after he had given orders to open the mouth of the cave, he received from his heavenly Father a token in his Spirit, and returned thanks for the assurance that his prayer was heard. Then he lifts up his voice, and cries to the dead man. A voice is enough. It is the voice of that Omnipotence, which said, "let there be light." He crieth to the dead-there was no power in the dead to hear. But he looks not on things as they appear to us. He calleth the things that are not as though they were. In calling, he gives ears to hear-in commanding, goes forth the power to obey. He speaks as to one alive. The bye-standers might reasonably have laughed him to scorn, as his voice echoed in the silent cave: and yet they would unreasonably have scorned the Divine speaker, when they saw that he who cried with his loud voice could make the deaf hear, and the dead arise. Now they saw the " glory of God"

the glory of God in the Man Jesus-the glory of God in the exalted honour put on this sleeping saint and his weeping familythe glory of God in anticipation

2 A

been the fact? Urged on by the savage Nero, persecution against the Christians began to rage most violently at Rome. The courage of Demas failed; the fear of death rendered him a coward. Perhaps, also, calling to mind the admonition, "If they persecute you in one city, flee ye to another," he might hold himself at least excusable for endeavouring to shelter himself, among the Christians at Thessalonica, from the storm now ready to burst on those in the metropolis. Had he been willing to renounce Christianity, he needed not retire from Rome, either for safety or sensual enjoyment: no where else could apostacy at that time meet with equal encouragement.

According to this sacred record, therefore, we may lament his pusillanimity, which induced him to forsake the venerable Apostle, rather than risk his life in the cause of the Gospel, but have no sufficient warrant to charge him with apostacy from Christ and his

cause.

H.*

ON THE CHARACTER AND INFLUENCE OF THE LITERATURE OF THE DAY.

No. II.

(To the Editors.) GENTLEMEN,-In my former paper, it was asserted that, with few exceptions, there existed, in the current literature of the day, a decided hostility against spiritual religion. Some of the various ways in which it was displayed were mentioned. The source of this opposition was considered as existing in the natural depravity of the human heart. It was also viewed as a distressing part of the evil, that this dislike was sufficient, without any secret concert, to unite the most opposite factions, in politics and in religion,

in their attempts to retard the progress of evangelical truth. It was at the same time stated, that all this had produced injurious effects on many minds. The question intended to be answered in this paper is, In what way, and to what extent, does the literature of the day produce an unfavourable influence?

I may here be permitted to state, once for all, that I am a friend to literature in general, and that, when used in moderation, it may be useful to the Christian. When there is not only a display of talent, but also a desire to stand forward in the defence of physical and moral truth, many profitable moments may be spent, and it seems right to sanction such works. A great variety of this kind of literature exists in our language, and additions to it are issuing from the press. To such works I do not refer, but to those which which are prepared chiefly to catch the popular taste-to excite and please a light-reading generation, who cannot bear to think. Some of these works run through a few editions, and are then forgotten; but their effects endure.

Here much might be said respecting the waste of time, of money, and of mind, occasioned by the reading of many of our modern works. The very superficial taste it has produced, and the unfitting of the mind for the realities of life, as well as for the investigation of moral and religious truth; all this, however, is very hacknied-my object is, rather to show the influence of such reading in religious matters-to view the readers as a class of beings destined to an eternity of existence, as spending most of their time in pursuits which, to say the least, endanger their principles, and keep them from seeking to possess a well-grounded hope of happiness hereafter-to look at them as individuals who must

shortly give in their account to the Judge of the quick and dead.

I would remark, then, that the literature referred to conveys false views of religion, and produces disgust towards the peculiarities of the Gospel.

Some may think that this is too strongly stated, because they do not suppose that the readers of such works go to them to gain information in religious matters: they go, it may be said, for amusement or relaxation, and not for divinity. It is granted that no one professedly goes to such publications for theological knowledge, but in reality they imbibe the sentiments there inculcated respecting religion. This will appear more evident, when we consider that the great majority of the readers of such works have never received a religious education, or read any religious books which could give correct information on such topics: their minds are uninstructed in the great truths of our common salvation: they cannot therefore detect error: they are in love with evil, and they therefore imbibe with avidity those sentiments regarding morals and religion which are to be found in the writings with which they are most conversant: opinions the most opposite to the Scriptures are received as true; and the standard of right and wrong which is placed before them, and to which they make their appeals, is most injurious to their present and eternal welfare. The maxims of the world, respecting the guilt or innocence of human actions, are considered as alone worthy of notice. They are accustomed to read of the weaknesses and frailties of erring humanity-of the excellency of the human heart-of the meritorious nature of repentance and good works-of the benevolence of the Deity, and of his mercy in not marking strictly the infirmities of his creatures. Sin

is stripped of all its offensiveness, as an awful crime committed against the God of the universe, by being viewed as deserving of pity, rather than blame. If the doctrines of human depravity and moral inability, of divine influence and justification by faith, are at any time mentioned, it is only to sneer at them, or to denounce them as the gloomy tenets of the Calvinistic school, and consequently as monstrous and absurd.

Now it does seem most unlikely that tens of thousands of the readers of the works referred to, can peruse them without receiving very considerable injury, as it regards their views of divine truth. The danger is increased by this circumstance, that there is no sincere wish to be right in religious matters: they have this feeling, that if they must have a religion, they will choose that of the majority, or at least that system which will not interfere with their abuse of time and supreme attachment to this world.

If a Christian, or a person well grounded in the knowledge of religion, should read a volume of biography, travels, or essays, or venture at any time on a work of imagination, where the erroneous sentiments spoken of are plainly inculcated, the danger of doing injury, in the way spoken of, is very small. To a rightly constituted mind, especially, the mixture of what is evil with what is instructive and interesting, must be a matter of regret, both as it respects the author and many of his readers. But we are speaking of those who have preserved few if any advantages of a religious kind; and this class is exceedingly numerous among the readers of our popular literature. Hence there is a disinclination, as well as inability, to discriminate and to separate truth from error, except it be to reject the former, and receive the latter, Cherish