The classification adopted by us at the beginning of this article brings us to those of the sermons before us which are addressed rather to the emotional than the intellectual. First in these let us take Dr. CANDLISH'S "Life in a Risen Saviour."

Dr. Candlish was born about 1800, and spent the earlier years of his ministry in a small manse in the west of Scotland. In the troubled times which led to the schism in the Scotch establishment, his talents, his vehemence and purity of character, his fine pulpit accomplishments, placed him by the side of Dr. Chalmers and Dr. Guthrie. In 1843, when the secession finally took place, a church of great splendor, St. George's free church, was built for him at Glasgow. There he now officiates to one, not only of the most wealthy and refined, but of the most liberal and efficient congregations in the United Kingdom.

Whatever may have been the peculiarities of Dr. Candlish's earlier sermons, those recently published by him are mainly remarkable for expository fidelity coupled with hortatory point. No sermons of recent publication are so closely exegetical. It is this, in connection with the charms of a style remarkably perspicuous and felicitous in illustration, that peculiarly adapts them for family and lay reading. The main exception we have to make to them is the occasional introduction though always with a striking hortatory power of a strained and non-natural interpretation.

The volume now before us consists of a series of twenty-one discourses on the fifteenth chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, the chapter associated among us with so many solemn recollections, by being part of our burial-service. The author limits hi.nself to that single view of the resurrection which involves "its bearing on the believer's spiritual and eternal life." In what way the work is done may be seen by a single passage, which we select as exhibiting not only Dr. Candlish's peculiarities as a preacher, but as indicating what we consider to be his error as an expositor, a fondness for a forced exegesis:

"There is, therefore, no real inconsistency between the Apostle saying, 'Flesh and blood can not inherit the kingdom of God,' and the risen Lord saying: 'I have

flesh and bones.' The two expressions are quite distinct. The first, flesh and blood, denotes the human bodily nature, liable to dissolution and decay. The other, flesh and bones, points rather to its higher spiritual development in a structure having extension and form-bones and flesh of some sort-but not necessarily of a sort resolvable into dust, and perishable. And when the Lord used that phrase to indicate His resumed corporeity, purposely avoiding the former, he may be understood as addressing to His disciples an affecting appeal.

"You thought that I was gone, and that you were never to see me more in the flesh. Now, when I appear, you take me for a spirit, from whose approach you shrink as from a strange and alarming phantom. But I have not left you, nor have I taken or received a nature in which you can claim no affinity to me, and have no union and communion with me. My manhood is still such, that in respect of it I may be your kinsman, and you may be to me what Eve was to Adam, 'bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh.' True, you may not retain me in the body here; I can not welcome your embraces, as I used to do when I was a sojourner among you; 'I go to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.' But I go possessed of a bodily frame in which I am still one with you, and you are still one with me. We are one, as husband and wife are one, or as brethren in the flesh are one. I claim to be still one of you; of the same body and the same family with you; and I would have you look upon yourselves as still one with me, of the same body and the same family with me; 'members of my body,

of my flesh, and of my bones.'

"We surely can not altogether err in regarding our Lord's remarkable language, especially interpreted by the scriptural usage, as designed to teach some such lesson as this, ultimately at least, if not immediately, to the apostles and to us. At all events, it is clear that it is no contradiction of the statement that flesh and blood can not inherit the kingdom of God; neither doth corruption inherit incorruption.' "That statement is the ground on which the Apostle rests the assurance that our bodies must and shall undergo such a change as is needful for removing the disqualifications under which they now labor. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality.' It must be so, for otherwise we could not enter heaven in the body. It shall be so, for we are to enter heaven in the body. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory.'

"What the change is to be, and how it is to be effected, it is needless to inquire particularly. Enough has been said already on that subject. It may be more profitable to notice some lessons which it suggests.

"II. By an irresistible argument, a fortiori, it bars the door against whatever is unholy, impure, sensual, or vile. If even physical corruptibility is inadmissible there, what shall we say of moral defilement? Is the body better than the spirit? Does God care more for that material frame of yours, which at the best, and however perfected, can be but the house or tabernacle for that spiritual part of you which allies you to His own divinity-does He care more for that, than for the spiritual part itself? If you can not pass into these realms of light and glory with a body corruptible and mortal, how think you that you can reach them with mind, heart, and soul polluted and unclean?

"O ye workers of iniquity, ye who openly practise or secretly love sin-ye who, whether outwardly in your conduct or inwardly in your affections and thoughts, walk after your own lusts—ye whose imagination is still evil! how can ye inherit the kingdom of God, if even sinless flesh and blood can not inherit it? "Think of the far different doom awaiting you. You as well as the righteous survive death. For you, as well as for them, there is a resurrection. But in the Lord's own awful words, it is a resurrection of damnation! Your bodies, as well as the bodies of the righteous, will undergo a change then; a change that will make them as indestructible as your immortal spirits are. Oh! what will it be for you to meet your God on that resurrection day! 'unjust still and filthy still!' furnished with bodies of fearfully enhanced power for evil, and intensified sensibility to pain! What will it be for you to reap in such bodies an hundred-fold, ten hundred-fold, the bitter, bitter fruits of your sowing to the flesh now? And these bodies, ah! they are made to last forever. The worm that dieth not will never eat them away. The fire that is not quenched will never consume them. That tremendous sacrifice of righteous retribution is salted with salt for its endless preservation! O ye workers of iniquity! have you no knowledge? Will you not be moved to tremble at the prospect of an eternity like that?"

Dr. J. W. ALEXANDER is too well known in this country to make it necessary for us to say more than that as a man of letters, as well as a philosophical theologian, he is entitled to be placed in the same rank with those whom we have ranged under our first general classification. It is as a preacher, however, that we propose more particularly to consider him; and at present we will notice but a single feature in this connection, and that is his pathos as an expositor, more particularly in connection with our Lord's passion. Those who have read his treatise on consolation, will agree with us when we say that no modern writer touches with such pathetic power these masterchords of comfort and solace. There is with him a deep and thoughtful appreciation of some of the less conspicuous features in our blessed Lord, such, for instance, as His unobtrusive vigils and prayers, the silence and sadness of His love to men, the profound dignity of His humility, the pervasiveness and yet the unheralded quiet of his sympathy. Take as an illustration of this quality, the following passage from one of the sermons before us:

"This relation, then, of friendship, is sustained by the Lord Jesus to His people. His whole life was a series of blessed friendships. There are no pictures of attachment like those of Bethany and the upper chamber. The twelve, the seventy, the holy women who companied with Him, the thousands of less distinguished disciples

all stood to Him in the relation of friends. It was not merely John, who reclined on His bosom, or James and Cephas, who shared His more sacred retirements, or Lazarus, whom He loved, or Mary and Martha, who ministered to Him; but all who hearkened to His words and sought His companionship. He was so unlike us who preach His gospel in degenerate times, that He associated visibly and at the banquets of the Pharisaic great, with persons who had lost their character, and was designated as the friend of publicans and sinners. To every diversity of people He showed Himself accessible; as indeed He is still the most accessible being in the universe. The most abject offender against purity felt reassured by His forgiving rebuke, and the very leper, cast out of human habitations, and the demoniac hauntlag tombs and charnel-houses, ventured to accost Him. How much more near, and delicate, and solemn, and rapturous must have been the interviews with His chief disciples, in those days on the mountain, and on the plain, when thousands swarmed forth from city and village, and spreading themselves on the green grass, were fed by His wonder-working bounty, and His yet more marvellous words; those voyages on the little lake; those nightly gatherings on Sabbath evenings, when the synagogue was out, and the sun was going down, and they came flocking, with wives and children, to the house where He was guest, and spread their sick and dying on the earth at His feet; those evenings during the high festivals, when, as we know, he did not tarry in the great city, but pursued His quiet path among olives, across the ravine of Kedron, and up the ascent of Olivet, to Bethany, and probably to the house of Lazarus; those walks through the length and breadth of the land, in which, accompanied by eager groups, He discoursed of divine counsels, and things of the kingdom. In all these conjunctures, we behold Him the FRIEND, in every lofty and every tender acceptation of that pregnant word. All who accepted Him were His friends. He admitted them to the title; He treated them as such. And now that, in His human nature, He is no more on earth, He just as really sustains the same relation to all who truly believe on Him and partake of His spirit. It is this sacred alliance which is brought prominently forward in these discourses of the first communion season."

Dr. GUTHRIE, with whom we must close, is the most popular of living Scotch preachers. He was born in 1803, and after having been licensed to preach by the Presbytery of Brechin, studied medicine in Paris, for the purpose of being able the better to assist the poor in his parochial ministrations. His first parish was Arbirlot, in Brechin, from whence he passed to the church of old Grey Friars, in Edinburgh. In 1840, a new church, St. John's, was built for his use in that city; and there an enormous congregation, including over one thousand communicants, was soon collected. The evangelical movement which soon after, on the non-intrusion question, rent asunder the Church, found him one of its most ardent champions. Nor is this all: he has followed Dr. Chalmers in the ad

vocacy of those large-hearted reforms which made that great divine one of the most efficient of philanthropists as he was one of the most eloquent of evangelists.

Dr. Guthrie's works, so far as their circulation in this country is concerned, are confined to three distinct collections of sermons, the first called the "Gospel in Ezekiel," the second, "The City: its Sins and Sorrows," and the third, the "Inheritance of the Saints." They all exhibit the same marked cha racteristics. There is no evidence of logical precision, of philosophical breadth, or of metaphysical acuteness. We see nothing of that psychological power which surprises us so much with Mr. Caird, or of that intellectual boldness and energy which bind our attention so closely to Dr. Bushnell. There are few graces of style, so far as the formation of sentences and the regard for rhythm are concerned. There is no delicacy or originality of exegesis. But there are qualities which, for practical purposes, more than compensate for the want of these. There is, in the first place, unction. And then, in subordination to this, there is much dramatic power of structure, and the most extraordinary opulence of illustration.

We need not say that the latter quality, without the two former, is of but little avail. The "luminaries of an oration have been likened by Quintilian to "so many eyes planted in eloquence." They are very well in their place, but if scattered every where, would be always obstructing other members, and being obstructed themselves. Unless illustrations be subordinated, and perceived to be subordinated to the grand object and purpose of the whole, they are like the monstrous birds that perch on mammoth twigs in front of a Chinese picturethey destroy the perspective of the whole, while they fatigue the eye in themselves. This danger we can not but feel to be always eminent with Dr. Guthrie. Very often he dashes against us in the first sentence, upon a metaphor or allegory, and when he dismounts, it is only to mount upon a new one, fresh from the stud which his imagination keeps in such bountiful profusion. Figures of all kinds he has in equal readiness. Sometimes the sinner, with his foot caught in the crevice of a rock, is about to be submerged in the rising tide. Some