for spirituous liquor. The very thought is so abhorrent to every tender feeling of my heart, that I have declined warning you as long as I dare. I fear indeed that my advice will now come too late; but you are my brother, and I must warn you. But what arguments shall I use? You will ruin yourself, soul and body; you will ruin your family, disgrace your relatives, and bring upon your untimely grave, the curses of society. Look at the wretch, who has often gone intoxicated from your inn. Half naked, he plunges into the filth of the street, the companion of the swine, and the scorn of the traveller. But you do not mean to become so monstrous. No, nor did he. He had pious parents, was decent and respectable, but now he is lost for ever. Dear brother, must you come to this? You have a tender and affection. ate wife, but you intend to break her heart. She married you while respectable, and from what the world acknowledges a respectable family, and must she live with you so sadly changed? Are all her tender feelings to be come the sport of beastly intoxication? She has "forsaken her kindred and her father's house" to be your affectionate companion; and must she return and tell her widowed mother, that she is undone, that her husband is a drunkard? Must she soon bid farewell to all her pleasures; to all the sweets of domestic and social life; to all the tender recollections of her departed joys; to all the dear ideas comprehend. ed in the name of a wife? Must she live only to be the prey of a monster, who promised her his heart? Did she expect, or has she VOL. II. New Series.

deserved all this? O reflect once more on the cruelty, of tearing her from her father's house to make her wretched.

She has borne you a son, the pledge of your mutual affection. Must he witness your ruin, and see a broken hearted mother? Must he be ashamed of the father to whom nature had taught him to look for example and counsel? Must he become an orphan while his father lives? Must he see the finger of scorn pointed at the object of his dutiful regard? Does he then owe you any thing for what you have done for him, when in fact you have only prepared him to be capable of pain, which you are now about to inflict? O, spare the lad! Per. haps your example may ruin his soul, and he and you go together to the abodes of wo. why should I ask a father, who I fear will not pity himself, to pity his son ?

But

Dear brother, you are yet, I hope, capable of some tender emotions. O, think of the shame you are about to entail upon all your friends, especially your brothers! We shall still wish to have you with us when we meet to be happy together. But must we invite a drunkard into our circle? O, Sir, it would spoil all our social joys! We could not be happy, while one of our number carried about him visible marks of eternal reprobation. No brother, we prepare to bid you farewell for ever. We cannot endure curses from an intoxicated brother. Although we are orphans, in an unfeeling world, we must spare ourselves the company of one, who will constantly remind us, that our dear parents have help

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ed to people the regions of eternal death. Do think once more of your parents: Did they labor hard to provide for you, and watch every approach of danger, that you might live and disgrace them? Was it for this that they heaved the anxious sigh, when you stayed too long from their bosoms? Did our lovely mother, than whom none was ever more tender of her chil. dren-did she endure a thousand pains for you, to be repaid with disgrace now she has died in your service? Did she pray for you-did she on her dying bed exclaim, "O God, regard the souls of my children," only to augment the pain of your dreadful eternity? O, my brother, she often prayed for you, and those prayers will not be lost. Perhaps her dear departed spirit still hovers over you, and is sent on errands of love to you and your family. If grief can be in heaven, must she not sigh, as she returns from these kind excursions, and relates the increas. ing symptoms of your ruin? O, spare her kind spirit its grief! Let her not any more bear such news to heaven. O, my much injured mother!

I wish you could realize how society will soon feel toward you. All will loathe you. Your neighbors will rejoice to bury you, that you may no more offend their sight.

But alas, what will be your destiny in the eternal world! O, the dread distance at which you will soon be removed from all bliss! Once more read your Bible, and see what stores of wrath are in reserve for you, if you die without grace; and I nced not remind you, how im.

probable it is, should you become a confirmed drunkard, that you will afterwards become a child of grace. But I fear you have laid by your Bible. Will you not take it up again and read it once more? my lost brother! May I not even yet have some hope of you? God of mercy grant that my fears may not be realized! Dear brother receive these my desponding lines, and keep them by you, and remember they came from my heart, and are already recorded in Heaven to appear against you in the great day.

But how shall I give thee up? I will indulge hope in the boundless grace of God. If there remains in your heart one anxious desire to be restored, and you will immediately quit the cup, you need not despair.

O my brother, take a view of that wondrous plan of love, which can restore the vilest apostate; take advantage of it, and live. Haste to your Father's house, and infinite love will receive you, and adopt you among the children. Cast but one look of faith from the very borders of the pit, and you shall live. Yes, and you shall have a part in the song, which the saints have be gun on earth, but which shall not be finished, while there is a God to praise. If you have one such wish, come, and your Savior will receive you. O, it will be blessed for you, to look back, and see your wonderful escape! Come, my brother, I am ready to help you sing your song of deliverance. I shall fly to your arms, as soon as I hear you have begun to pray. That will certainly be the sweetest moment of my life. How

glad will it make our little circle of friends! Yes, and it will give joy in heaven; for there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repentoth." In the transactions of such a scene, Heaven witnesses a new display of sovereign mercy. I seem to see you returning your family rejoice, your brothers are glad, your neighbors praise the Lord for the change; and lo! you have begun your everlasting song. Oh sing this song, dear brother, and the very angels will not be ashamed to join you.

Most affectionately yours,
PHILOFRATOR.

CRITICISM

ON

1 Corinthians i. 26, 27, 28. For ye see your calling,brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble: But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and

God hath chosen the weak things of

the world to confound the things which are mighty; and base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things that

are.

THE apostle had said, in the preceding verse, that the foolishness of God is wiser than men ; and the weakness of God is stronger than men. This is the subject to be illustrated in the next succeeding verses. By the foolishness of God, he evidently means the gospel of Christ; which he had just said was, to the Greeks, foolishness. Yet, he observes, that by the foolish. ness of preaching, it pleases God to save those who believe. Though man's wisdom would never have chosen the doctrine

of a crucified Christ to convert the world, God's wisdom has :The doctrines of the cross being fitted, beyond all others, to form men to that humility, which is essential to their relishing and enjoying a salvation which is all of grace. And this gospel, when cordially embraced, has unspeakably happier influence on the hearts and lives of men, than all the rules of morality, which the united wisdom of men could ever have devised.

This sufficiently shows, that the foolishness of God, as the world view it, is wiser than men.

But what is to be understood by the weakness of God? And how does the apostle make it that this is stronger than appear, men? Would it at all illustrate the strength and power of this weakness to say that, not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble were converted? That this weakness of God had but few trophies of its superior strength amongst the wise and the great men of the world?-That its triumphs were to be found princi. pally amongst the weak, the low, and despised part of men? It will readily be seen, that such a construction, instead of illustrating the strength and glory of what is called the weakness of God, would rather tend to give deYet this, grading views of it. perhaps may be the sense, in which our translators under. stood the passage: For, to the words, Ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, they have added are called-these words not being found 'in the original. Is it not, then more

reasonable to suppose, that by the weakness of God, we are to understand those weak instruments God made use of to effect those mighty changes, which it is beyond the united power and wisdom of the world to produce? This, then, will be the sense of the words; Ye see, brethren, the manner in which, and the instruments by whom ye were called-That instead of the wise and great men of the world, God chose the foolish and weak things of the world to confound the wise and the mighty-men, without either riches or powermen, who were despised, aud considered as the offscouring of the world-the illiterate followers of Christ, who went forth with no other weapon than that gospel, which men termed foolishness; and with this, triumphed and were instrumental of producing effects, which infinitely exceeded any thing that could

ever be brought about by the united wisdom and power of men." That such mighty changes should be made in the state of the world, and the foundation laid for the utter overthrow of the Roman heathen empire, by men, who were without wealth, or power, or influence; and this only by preaching the doctrines of the cross, is a striking evidence, that a divine and almighty power accompanied them. Here indeed it appears, that the weak. ness of God, (the weak instru. ments he makes use of) is stronger than men, and effects changes, which the wise, the mighty, and the noble of the earth could nev er have effected. However true then, it may be, that a smaller proportion of the wise and great men of the earth are converted, this is not, it is to be believed, what we are taught in this memorable passage of the apostle.

SOME of the most interesting subjects in religion have suffered so much in the hands of the weak and ignorant, that in treating of them it requires no little caution to obviate their mistakes. The person, the work, and the example of our blessed Savior, are of this number. The deplorable prostitution of his sacred name, is sometimes ready to check the language of sober and honest af fection. The Scriptures, how. ever must still be our standard, Truth must be guarded indeed,

transgressor of the command. ments of God and enters into the full meaning and consequences of the concession, the most interesting question will be, How am I to be pardoned? He that is once truly awake to this inquiry, can be diverted from it by no pressure of employments, no sophistry of error. The disputes of divines upon abstract and metaphysical niceties, are to him insipid; for heaven and eternity are at stake. Of a mind thus exercised, the anxieties and apprehensions are frequently painful, and sometimes prolong ed yet if the Scriptures be carefully studied, prayer assidu. ously cultivated, and the ordinary means of instruction conscientiously improved, will they yield at length to accurate conceptions of the method of redemption. He who thus diligently uses the light he has received, and earnestly implores further discoveries, will, by degrees, find his knowledge of the Scriptures enlarged and confirm. ed, until he can rely with holy satisfaction on the atonement of the Son of God. Such a text as this "Who his ownself bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we being dead to sin should live unto righteousness," is balm to his wounded conscience. The view of an in. carnate God, dying to redeem him; is life and consolation to his mind. sin.

It loosens the bonds of It is peace, and pardon, and deliverance. It awakens a sacred sorrow for his past delinquencies, and produces a benign and holy humility, not far removed from tranquillity and joy. Such a view may well allay his fears, and lighten his disquietude.

With such a view, therefore, where it is deep and abiding, will always be connected that total renunciation of sin and supreme devotedness to God, of which it is the origin and support. Why does God pardon my sins, but that being released from their bondage, I may serve him with new and universal obedience ? "How can they who are dead to sin, live any longer therein?" Hesitation, here, is suspicious and unpardonable; and if the doctrines of our holy religion are doctrines of grace, they are also doctrines according to god. liness. If there be any true godliness in the world, it arises from their influence.

The honest christian has, in. deed, no interest in ambiguity. It forms his delight to follow the example, and transcribe the character of his Master. His complaints and sorrows spring from his deficiency in this respect. He would be entirely holy. He desires to glorify God in body, soul, and spirit. He aims at treading in the steps, imbibing the spirit, and adorning the gos. pel of his God and Savior; and whenever he falls short of this, he falls short of his principal object, and applies humbly for fresh forgiveness and fresh supplies of grace. There is no sin whatsoever which he does not desire to be subdued, no duty which he does not endeavor to perform. The perfect holiness