There is a wide difference between reading the Bible for the confirmation of our own system of truth, and reading the Bible to discover truth as there enunciated. To pass from one mode of reading to the other, is like awakening from sleep; and to do it, involves the sacrifice of many a cherished prejudice. But if men would do so, they would experience very soon the great benefit of making such a sacrifice, in their own advance in knowledge, and in the increased interest which their preaching and teaching would excite.

Unless the mind of the teacher is progressive and active, he cannot expect, in reason, to stir up the minds of his pupils to progress and activity. And by the same rule, if the preacher does not think himself, but is contented with giving the drybones of other men's thoughts, he cannot expect to set the minds of his congregation to work. God forbid that anything should be said that seems for a moment to ignore the Spirit's work in blessing the word spoken, and making it effectual for the end to which it is spoken. But as every power of mind is a talent from God, so are we bound to consider how we may lay out the talent in the best way for the glory of Him who gave it. Were men thus to study the Bible for themselves, we should not see the advertising columns of newspapers disgraced by such announcements as these: "Views of advertiser in accordance with those of Scott or Simeon," &c. Men these are whose names are to be had in all honour; but it is painful to see them held up in this light, as though their minds were a measure of the mind of the Spirit as exhibited in the word of God.

But yet, again, is it possible that the term "reconciliation" may be loosely used, and so again give occasion to misrepresentations about the teaching of the evangelical portion of the Church? Reconciliation is the great object of Christ's workreconciliation between God and man. But while the expression "reconciling man to God" may be fearlessly used, the expression "reconciling God to man" cannot be used in the same free manner. The former expression occurs frequently in the New Testament; the latter only once, and there evidently not in the same broad sense that the other is employed.

The term "reconciliation" implies previous feelings of hostility on the part at least of one of the parties to be made at one, but not necessarily on the part of both. Now, on the part of man, there is no question that there is hostility naturally towards God; and quite apart from the question of an atonement for sin, this hostility needs to be removed, his hatred needs to be supplanted by love; and besides this, he needs to have the cause that divided him from God removed. Hence it is in a double sense that man needs to be reconciled to God. The sin which separated him from his Maker needs

wiping out; and the hatred which he felt towards Him needs to be removed. So far, therefore, as man is concerned, it may be stated broadly, and without fear of the expression being misunderstood, that he does need to be "reconciled to God." But when the term "God reconciled to man" is employed, it manifestly cannot be used in the same broad sense. There is no hostility on His part towards a rebellious world, to be overcome in order to make perfect the reconciliation; else that word would not be true which is written, "God so loved the world that He gave his only-begotten Son." Hence it is evident that if the two terms, "reconciliation of man to God" and "reconciliation of God to man," are to be employed, there is need to show that they are not used in the same sense absolutely; or if they are to be used in the same sense absolutely, then it must be shown that all ideas of previous hostility, which appears so closely wrapped up in the word, must be especially excluded from it when employed theologically. But is not the word used in such a manner in the New Testament as necessarily to imply the existence of previous enmity?

Hence the term "reconciliation" as applied to God does not mean all it does when applied to man. Is it possible that this distinction is not pointed out as clearly as it ought to be; and if so, will not the glory of the Father's love be partially obscured? But the term, when applied to God, must mean the doing away of that sin which, so to speak, stands in the way of His acceptance of men.

The idea of an atonement for sin is one which we cannot comprehend in all its depth and height, and in vain the finite mind strives to take it in. But there are certain truths which we do know, and with the statement of them we must be content. We know that God loved the world; we know that He cannot accept men in their sins as His children; we know that He cannot let sin go unpunished. We see an example of that in the case of the angels that sinned, and were in consequence cast out. We know that to let man bear the punishment of his own sin would be to shut him out for ever from God's presence. We know that God did not desire this. Having these premises before us, we see further that God and Christ entered into a covenant; of that covenant we can only speak as regards its results. They are these. Christ is given to men as their representative. As their representative He offers up Himself to death on account of their sins. God, in that He gave Christ, consented thereby to receive Him as our representative, to acknowledge His death as though by it we had suffered for our sins, and were thereby set free from the penalty of sin, and to regard Christ's righteousness as our righteousness. Hence as the love of God has provided for us this representative, it is utterly impossible for us to be received

unless we come to God in Him; and equally is it utterly impossible for us to be rejected if we do come to God in Him. God is faithful and just to receive us in and through Christ. He is faithful to His promises in having in the fulness of time set forth His Son to accomplish the sacrifice of Himself, and He is just (Christ having perfected the work required to be done) to accept us in Him. But we are compelled to confess that the justice follows the faithfulness. If there had been no promise to accept, with no show of justice could the acceptance have been looked for. But now He who has pledged His word for our acceptance in Christ is just to receive us because of that word. It is this very point which seems so closely guarded in the Jewish ceremonial law. God would accept the people, but only in His own way, and after His own appointed ordinance. The sacrifice to be offered was His choice; the place where and the man by whom the victim was to be slain, were both strictly defined by His ordinance. Hedged about on all sides, as the Jews were, by the set bounds of time and place and manner in all their sacrifices, they must have learned that, while there was acceptance for them with God, it was only to be gained in God's appointed way.

All this affords a striking commentary on the words of Peter, "Neither is there salvation in any other, for there is none other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved."

If these things are so, then the object of our faith is, primarily, the promises of God; secondarily, Jesus Christ, in whom all those promises are wrapped up ;-and thus the faith of the Christian believer and of the pious Jew is identical. The latter would look for acceptance in God's way because God had promised it, having at the same time, it may be, only imperfect and indistinct views of the realities which the ceremonies of his religion shadowed forth. The Christian believer, in like manner, looks for acceptance in God's way because God has promised it; only living, as he does, in a day of gospel light, he has, what the Jew had not, a clear view of what that way really is. Hence we are justified in saying that the primary object of our faith is the promises of God, and that Christ is so subordinately to this; but now, Christ being come, and it being seen that He is the appointed Saviour through whom all things are ours, the gaze of faith becomes absorbed in the contemplation of His perfections. Nevertheless it becomes us to see that the hope of our salvation in Him rests upon the love of the Father, through which Christ is made ours.

A CLERGYMAN.

THE REV. SANDERSON ROBINS ON FORMS OF UNBELIEF.

A Defence of the Faith. Part First: Forms of Unbelief. By Sanderson Robins, M.A., Vicar of St. Peter's, in the Isle of Thanet, and Rural Dean. London: Longmans. 1862.

THE Rev. Sanderson Robins contemplates a magnum opus. The volume before us is the first of three; the subject of the second is Christian Evidences; the subject of the third, Holy Scripture. The whole is entitled, and is to be considered, a Defence of the Faith. The work has been manifestly suggested by the Essays and Reviews; and in one point of view is simply a contribution to the voluminous literature that has gathered around that unhappy volume. The author, however, has wisely given to his work an independent value; and it is susceptible of being read and studied without any direct reference to the Essays and Reviews. The present volume, entitled Forms of Unbelief, is so distinct from those that are to follow, that it is quite deserving of separate consideration. We shall best describe it by saying that it is concerned with six chapters in the History of Philosophy, entitled respectively Alexandria, Scholasticism, English Deism, Pantheism, German Philosophy, Rationalism. The plan of Mr. Robins is to give some account or definition of what is imported by each of these terms, with an account of the chief names included under each, partly critical and partly biographical. The work of which we are chiefly reminded is Mr. G. H. Lewes's Biographical History of Philosophy. We need scarcely say that we have a great deal more sympathy for such a writer as Mr. Robins than such a writer as Mr. Lewes. It, however, unfortunately happens that Mr. Robins' narrow space has compelled him to do in a limited and imperfect manner much that Mr. Lewes has done with conspicuous ability and success. As we glance down the table of contents, we perceive that there is not a single chapter which might not very advantageously be expanded to the utmost limits of the book itself. The pages are so crowded with proper names, that it at first leaves upon the mind pretty much the same impression as if we had been perusing a table of contents. This confusion is worse confounded by the want of an index. Bayle said the index was the soul of a book; and an index is especially required by this kind of book. We are glad to say that upon further examination much of this confusion clears away, and an orderly method is perceived. The inherent deficiencies of such a work cannot but remain, and render it, for most readers, a specimen of the chiaro-obscuro. Opinions are not discussed, but are stated with the brevity of propositions; and instead of narrative we have a few facts arbitrarily selected.

The result is, that we have a critical and biographical work, of which the criticism is uncritical, and the biography no biography at all.

The kind of criticism is indicated by the amount of criticism he devotes to the subjects of Nominalism and Realism. "The realists hold that abstract ideas have an existence independent of concrete and phenomenal forms; and the nominalists, that general terms are but names, and do not designate anything separately existing." This is bald, incomplete, and unsatisfactory. Mr. Robins is familiar enough with the great questions identified with these terms; he elsewhere points out how they show the divergence between the imaginative and the practical, between the sensational philosophy and the idealistic philosophy. How many philosophers have devoted how many pages to the endeavour to frame intelligible statements on the subject! The Platonic Ideas are on the very threshold of this controversy, the most difficult portion of all ancient philosophy; and for a good account of which the reader can only be referred to the writings of bishop Hampden and the lamented William Archer Butler. We observe with surprise that neither of these writers are cited in the list of authorities. The life of Lord Bolingbroke is summed up in the following words: "Lord Bolingbroke is said to have learned reading in his childhood from the 119th Psalm. In 1715 he fled to France in order to avert the consequences of his participation in the rebellion; he returned after a few years, and died at the age of eighty. He left his manuscripts to be published after his death." Now these lines are meant to be biographical, or they are not so meant. In the former case, there is not a word about the second retirement to France; not a word about the wit and poet; not a word about the most renowned parliamentary orator of the day; not a word about the statesman who negotiated the treaty of Utrecht, and the politician who directed the opposition against Walpole. If a biographical notice is intended, why should one set of facts be admitted, and the other set of facts be excluded? If no such biographical notice is intended, the mention of these facts becomes irrelevant.

That amiable metaphysician, Abraham Tucker, somewhere says: "The science of abstruse learning, when completely attained, is like Achilles' spear, that healed the wounds it had made before. It casts no additional light upon the paths of life, but disperses the clouds with which it had overspread them; it advances not the traveller one step on his journey, but conducts him back to the spot from whence he had wandered." Some such language as this would probably describe with tolerable accuracy the point of view from which Mr. Robins has written his work. He proposes to deal historically with the errors that surround him in philosophy and religion, and to