nate the earth at mid-day by the light of a taper. To the lofty summit of revelation human philosophy can never ascend; nor will the well instructed Christian ever forsake the pure fountain of eternal truth with a view to slake his thirst with the muddy waters of merely terrestrial origin.

That many professed Arminians have run into the errors we have been deprecating, we are not disposed to question. And perhaps in the days of our Puritan forefathers, the most of those who professed the Arminian creed, forsaking those doctrines of grace which were taught so luminously by Arminius himself, adopted the same graceless theory by which those Neologists are now distinguished who ascribe so much power to man. This fact may apologize for some-though we think they should have known better-who have stigmatized Arminianism with the detestable heresy which attributes to man the power to save himself. Though such a wild and unscriptural notion never entered into the creed of Arminius nor that of any of his genuine followers, there have been those who were called by his name who, hastily we hope, adopted this unsound sentiment. On this account it is that we suppose so many have been accustomed to associate in their minds with Arminianism the Arian and Socinian heresies, and hence to say that Arminians hold to the doctrine of infant purity and of man's ability to save himself independently of Divine grace.

But whatever truth there may be in these suggestions, it is manifest to all attentive observers of the times, that the Neologists of the present day go far beyond any of their predecessors in attributing to man the natural power of saving himself. We hope, however, that the light of Divine truth which seems to be shining less or more clearly on all lands, will continue its enlightening progress, until all these unsound notions in religion shall be shined into darkness, and the pure Gospel of Jesus Christ obtain a universal triumph in the understandings and hearts of the people.

need not wonder that it was thrown into contempt when the lights of true science and religion began to shine on mankind at the memorable era of the Reformation. But that this contemptible trifling should ever be revived would be matter of regret with all well wishers to the interests of true religion and solid learning:

As the fruit of this extravagant rage for subjecting the doctrines of Christianity to the whimsical dominion of metaphysics and dialectics, after these sciences came to be so generally taught in the schools, they undertook to distinguish between the Divine essence of the Deity Himself and the property of his perfections, and between the three Divine persons and the persons themselves, not indeed in reality, but by an abstraction in the mind, which led to the denial of some of the cardinal truths of Divine revelation.

Is modern Socinianism the product of a similar process of the mind? Or is it merely the effect of that affectation of philosophical research which disdains reliance upon the plain and obvious dictates of Divine revelation, and which betrays itself in a continual restlessness under their imposing restraints? It is well, indeed, for the Christian world, that all agree to acknowledge the Bible as the common standard of orthodoxy. Were not this the case, how soon we might all be hurried into the whirlpool of general skepticism, we might almost venture to predict. But if fallible reason is to be set up as a standard for the trial of Bible truth, we might as well discard revelation at once, and altogether.

In the mean time let no one boast of himself as being beyond the influence of this philosophy falsely so called,' merely because he holds fast the fundamental doctrines of Christ. We know that it is very possible to hold the truth in unrighteousness; and while this is the case we may easily become so vain in our reasonings as to reject the Lord who bought us, and to set up a standard of orthodoxy subversive of, if not in opposition to, the pure doctrines of Christ. Real Arminians, therefore, are in danger of forsaking the plain facts and doctrines of the Gospel, whenever they suffer the pride of philosophy to triumph over their better judgments and prostrate the unadulterated truths of revelation before the shrine of human tests and graceless theories. To prevent a result so fatal to the interests of vital godliness, let us all contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints,' and never lean to our own understandings, but trust in the Lord with all our hearts.

Some, with a view seemingly to apologize for their own imperfections, have endeavored to wrap up the doctrines of Christianity in mystery. This is doubtless a relic of the dogmas of the ancient mystics before noticed, as it certainly has no justification in the sacred Scriptures themselves. That the things of which the Scriptures themselves speak are far beyond the comprehension of finite minds we fully grant; but the facts, doctrines, and precepts revealed, are as plain as any other facts, doctrines, and precepts; and require no more stretch of faith to believe, or capaciousness of mind to comprehend them. To speak, indeed, of revealed facts as being covered up in mystery, is nothing less than a contradiction. What is revelation? Is it not a making known that which was before, and would otherwise remain hidden? It is in this sense that the apostles speak of mysteries. The mysteries which had been hidden before, even for ages,' respecting Jesus Christ, and the scheme of salvation through Him, were now revealed, made known, by the preaching of the Gospel, so that they were now no longer mysteries, but subjects of revelation.

No! It is the unintelligible manner in which the subjects of revelation have been handled by men of confused minds, led astray by the pride of human philosophy, which has darkened the wise counsels of God, 'with words without knowledge.' The mystics and the schoolmen were equally in fault in this respect. The one, instead of attending to the plain matters of fact revealed in the Bible, according to their obvious and literal import, earnestly sought for a mystical sense which was never intended, and then allegorized upon every historical narration until they bewildered themselves and their hearers with an unintelligible jargon of nonsensical reveries. The other subjected every truth of Divine revelation to the rules of interpretation laid down by Aristotle as the tests of truth, and thus lost themselves in a labyrinth of vain reasonings which carried them as far from the simplicity of Divine revelation, as hell from heaven.'

Our duty is plain. If we would shun the whirlpool of the one and the rocks of the other, we must steer a straight course along the channel of revealed truth, until we are carried into the secure harbor of eternal rest.

MEMOIRS OF THE REV. DAVID STONER.

Memoirs of the Rev. David Stoner, containing copious Extracts from his Diary and epistolary Correspondence. First American, from the second English Edition. 18mo., pp. 286.

IMPARTIAL biography, in which the individual is allowed to think, speak, and act for himself, because it presents a true picture of the human heart and life, is one of the most entertaining and instructing departments of study. We say impartial biography. But where is this to be found? If we except the few biographical notices found in the sacred Scriptures, and perhaps some others, dictated by a sacred regard to truth, or written a long time after the subjects of them were dead, where shall we look for a faithful record of the actions, private and public, with a candid examination of the motives, of individuals?

If a man write his own life, will not self-love, however unconsciously it may operate, make the scale preponderate in his favor? With whatever impartiality a man may set himself to the task of performing the work of a critic upon his own actions, and with whatever acuteness he may scrutinize his own motives and conduct, the autobiographer will be tempted at every step of his progress and if he resist the temptation successfully, he is a selfsacrificing hero of rare occurrence-to apologize for his infirmities, to hide his real defects, and, if he chance to make a blunder in moral conduct, either to suppress the facts in the case, or to extenuate the fault. All this may be admitted without at all impeaching his integrity or moral honesty, as he may persuade himself that the success of the cause in which he is engaged is in some measure at least identified with the fair fame of his own reputation. And it may be fairly questioned whether many sincere and well-meaning Christians have not been betrayed into the belief that piety itself demanded a suppression of the truth in relation to occasional aberrations, to justify itself against the rude attacks of infidelity. Was not this exemplified in the early history of the Church by the 'pious frauds' to which many resorted in order to maintain the truth and to secure the Church's reputation? And were not these lamentable instances of dissimulation the precursors of that corruption which finally pervaded almost all ranks of the Church, and at length rendered it an object of suspicion among the discerning of all denominations? And let not professing Christians deceive themselves with an expectation that they can elude the scrutinizing eye of a discerning public. Their motives and con

duct are critically scanned. What a handle against the reputation of Christianity did Gibbon find in his critical researches into the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, in the faults of the professed Christians of the third and fourth centuries, and thence onward to his time! Though his inferences were generally unjust and cruel, yet the facts themselves furnished him with a plausible opportunity to feed his appetite for devouring the truths of Christianity.

We allow, indeed, that better principles now prevail, since the lights of religion and science have dissipated the clouds of ignorance and superstition from the intellectual and spiritual world. Neither officious' nor any other sort of lies will now pass off as legalized currency to give a greater value to truth. Since guile and hypocrisy are so generally reprobated among men, every man who would acquire a fair reputation, must at least appear to be candid, honest, and true. He must be more. If he would gain credit in the religious world, he must be truly religious, in heart and life. His reputation for devotion, for orthodoxy, for faith and zeal, must be unsullied. But even this itself may be a powerful temptation to disguise the truth. If a writer of his own life, writing under the conviction that an unsullied reputation is the only passport to religious fame, be not in reality what he professes to be, how natural and easy for him to put on a little artificial coloring to make the worse appear the better side of the picture.

After all, allowing for the little unconscious disguisings which self-love may dictate in favor of one's self, we greatly prefer a man's own testimony respecting himself, to that of another; and more especially if we have reason to rely upon his honestythat he thinks and speaks under a consciousness of his high responsibility to his God, as well as under the scrutinizing eye of a discerning public.

The man who writes the biography of another is perpetually under the necessity of being on his guard against deception. Is. he the warm friend and admirer of the deceased? Is he not then in danger of being betrayed into extravagant eulogy? Will not even the infirmities of his friend find an apologist, if not even a eulogist, in the breast and pen of the biographer? But allowing that he is not blinded by the partialities of friendship, has he sufficient moral courage to meet the frowns of the surviving friends and relatives of the deceased, should he disclose the whole truth? He may, indeed, tell the truth as far as he goes. He may speak only of virtues which really existed, of good actions which were actually performed, and rightly appreciate the motives which prompted the individual to the performance of these actions; but at the same time there may be defects which he studiously conceals, foibles which he dare not mention, or aberrations of which he thinks it prudent to preserve silence, for fear of wounding the feelings of private friendships among the living. Of all writers, therefore, the

task of the biographer is the most delicate and the most difficult to be performed impartially.

Nor is the danger less if he be an enemy to the man whose life he writes. We allow that the latter assumes a greater amount of responsibility, and discharges a more fearful task. To praise the dead is manly; it is indeed amiable, and pleasurable. To do this when the individual is worthy of praise-when he has distinguished himself by an exhibition of talents, of virtuous actions and benevolent deeds which command universal respect among the wise and good, is a task which every benevolent mind would perform with exquisite pleasure and delight, because he feels himself sustained by an honest conviction of truth, and by the voice of a virtuous public.

Not so the task of an enemy who wishes to bespatter the character of the dead with the foul breath of calumny. No small share of malignity of nature, as well as bribings of conscience, is needful, to qualify a man for the work of defamation. Yet such have been found among the living, though they have lived to no good purpose.

If any one doubt the truth of these remarks upon the difficulties of biographical writings, let him turn his attention to books of this sort. Let him examine the biographical accounts of almost any one of the noted and eminent persons who have appeared on the theatre of the world. An impartial and attentive examination of any one of these or of all of them, will soon convince him of the difficulty of arriving at accuracy in these things. Let him trace the line of biographies from Herodotus down to the present time, and wherever he can find the same person and the same transactions spoken of by two or more biographers, he will be at no little loss to ascertain what is true respecting them. Some have praised their heroes so profusely and indiscriminately, that their. readers have suspected that they were not describing a real character at all, but only a fictitious one designed merely as an example for imitation; while others have censured the same persons so freely, as to create a doubt of the identity of the individual. Thus the malevolence of enmity on the one hand, and the excessive charity of friendship on the other, furnish perpetual temptations for disguising the truth either for or against the subject of the memoir. And what is most lamentable, such is the waywardness of the public mind, that erroneous statements are more likely to obtain credit than true ones. One reason doubtless is, as one has elegantly observed, 'falsehood has gone about the world with the graces in her train, while truth has lagged behind with no attendant, but the drooping form of modesty. Let no one, however, despair of arriving at truth even in this department of literature. Though it often requires much toilsome labor to separate the error from the truth, in consequence of their being so ingenuously mixed together, yet a patient investigation, guided by an ardent love of