must not be impatient. Not my will, but Thine, be done.' Yesterday, when Mr. Prichard, on his return from Liverpool to dinner, came into his room and said, 'You are still with us, Mr. Housman,' his reply was, (and I wish you could have seen him as he spoke) Yes-here I am, and here I shall remain, until it please the Lord to take me to Himself; and then I shall sing of mercy and of judgment. Yea, unto Thee O Lord, will I sing, for ever and ever.' He is much gratified by the anxiety evinced by so many of his congregation, and said to me to-day, Give my love to them all, but especially to my dear and only brother and to all at Lune Bank. I love them very tenderly.' And then after a pause, ‘I love St. Anne's; but I leave my people in good hands.' He frequently inquires after his brother, of whom he invariably speaks in terms of true affection; and to-day, when he saw me writing to you, he said, 'Give him my fondest love, and tell him I wish him every good, both in this world and in the next.' His affectionate manner towards all of us is truly delightful and will afford us many happy recollections when he is gone. He looked at me about an hour ago, and said, I often think of some lines by Cowper, which well apply to thee and me.' On asking him which they were, he repeated the following stanza of a poem to Mrs. Unwin. The passage you remember refers to her needles. He substituted my name for that of Mrs. Unwin. "He continued sensitively alive to kindness. 'This morning,' writes the same affectionate and dutiful child, whilst I was giving him his breakfast, he looked into my face with a sweet smile and said, 'I once used to feed you; but now you are my nurse; and when a parcel of white violets, which I had gathered for him in one of the fields near Lune Bank, was put into his hand, he raised it to his lips and kissed it, saying, 'I shall never again see the spot where those flowers grew. Give him my best thanks for the present.' "Mr. Prichard's testimony confirms all that has been said, of his gratitude, and resignation and trust and unshadowed hope of glory, in these his dying moments. His language abounded with expressions of obligation to those who waited upon him, and of devout thankfulness to God for His unspeakable mercies. The smallest mark of attention elicited the warmest acknowledgments; and not a drop of water, however greatly needed, moistened his lips, until his heart had poured out its praises to the Giver of all good for the unmerited blessing. Of death he spoke as of a long-familiar journey; his mind penetrated with a perpetual sense of the Divine presence, feared no evil. Why should it? He was going home; going within the inner circle of the whole family in heaven and earth named of the Lord Jesus Christ; going to the tender bosom of an infinitely disinterested Friend, who had guided him through perils mightier than those of the dark valley and cheered him with the promise of everlasting support. afraid of nothing but impatience; and his God, kind to the last, kept him until patience had done its perfect work. He was "At noon on Thursday the 19th he fell into a deep stupor, from which he never awoke except for about half a minute on the following night. Mr. Prichard not hearing him breathe, went to the bed-side and bent over his face. He slowly opened his eyes and fixing them steadily and earnestly on Mr. Prichard for a few seconds, smiled; then raised one of his hands very slightly, as he was accustomed to do when thankful, and again sunk into a state of unconsciousness. At twenty minutes past two o'clock, on the morning of Sunday the 22nd of April, 1838, this meek and holy Christian entered upon the rest that remaineth for the people of God." BY THE REV, THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. OUTLINE OF A LECTURE DELIVERED IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH. THE fact of the objects of theology being shrouded in obscurity, does not prove the ethics of theology not to be clearly known. The question as to the existence of things, is quite different from supposing them to exist, and then determining the relations between them. Observational truth in mathematics, is not more certain than observational truth in theology. There is a use in natural theology; because distant probabilities involve the duty of careful inquiry. Verisimilitudes are fingerposts, by which we are conducted to verities. Even the very probability of there being a God, may oblige us to seek after Him, if (haply) we may find Him ;* and the more the obscurity is removed, the more imperative becomes the duty. It may not be possible accurately to guage the evidence; but if any evidence be present, it puts us us into the attitude of inquirers. Natural theology teaches thus much, that if a revelation comes, it is our duty to investigate it. We may not be able to measure the intensity of nature's light; but if there be light, it may lead us (if followed) to fuller manifestations. Natural theology is not the temple, but the way that leads to it. It is a voice at the outset, calling us onward. Natural theology begins and carries us forward part of the way; and it is of great service if it leaves us where there is so much light, as either to awake us to the importance of further progression, or to leave us wholly inexcusable. It is not necessary to make an accurate estimate of its evidences; however weak they may be, it is still our duty to inquire farther. However dim a haze may rest on the objects, the ethical principle still requires us to advance. There is a duty we owe to a certain, but there is also a duty we owe to a likely, nay, even to a possible Deity. There was a moral obligation resting on the Athenians, who listened to Paul's declaration of an "unknown God." And this obligation extends from the most polished to the rudest of mankind; and though the evidence grows more feeble, it is visible to the last of men, at the very outskirts of society. There is a rudimental theology every where; and on it a higher theology may be grafted. There is no tribe where the materials for a coming judgment may not be found. This fact will justify missionary enterprises; but it also supplies motive to ministerial exertions among the most ignorant of our home-peasantry. As the Church-bell summons their attendance, there is also a moral summons to their attention. Now this is the result of a natural theology within them. They have at least the conception of a God; and however obscure this conception may be, the principle is clear, that a professed message from Him is not to be disregarded. The first may be obscure, as belonging to the objects of theology; the last is clear, as belonging to its ethics. Natural theology leads us onward, to the higher theology of the Gospel. We do not speak of nature's light as if it had gone into obscurity, when we say that the two great principles of Christianising the cottager, are the light of nature (proving his duty to attend) and the self-evidencing power of revelation. We do not hesitate to avow, that natural theology leaves us in difficulties from which it cannot extricate us. It is well, that it tells us of the disease, and leads us to cast about for a remedy. However God may be [unknown, it tells us we have not done enough towards Him. Nature can tell us of sin, and that we are sinners; but the difficulty which it cannot solve, is our reconciliation to a God of justice. All its resources and expedients fail here. It does not fulfil the desiderata; but it is well that it makes them known. It tells us we are sinners; though it cannot teach salvation. Let us glance at nature's difficulties, and unresolved doubts, and longing, unavailing aspirations. The most appalling mystery in this mysterious world, is death. Though we should make out that the happiness of life is greatly superior in amount to the misery, it does not bring an explanation to the difficulty, but a difficulty "They should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after Him, and find Him."-Acts xvii. 27. + Acts xvii. 23. VOL. XIII. 3 B to the explanation. What avails the sunshine of a few years, if it is but to aggravate the horrors of death? Let the family-circle be as joyous as it may, unsparing death turns it all to mockery; converting the habitations of men into one vast charnel-house ! But this is proceding on the most favourable supposition—that life is an uninterrupted scene of happiness. But, in reality, it is not so. The volcano and the storm prove that nature is distempered; and man is obliged to toil, that he may force out a subsistence. He is born to labour and die. It seems as if nature had once been beautiful, but had become utterly deranged. All the elements are impregnated with disease. Even inanimate things decay. The inferior animals are subject to the law of mortality; and not a few go forth on each other to ravin and destroy. In man, the seeds of death are born with him; they lie hid in the curious receptacle of an infant's bosom; and, by his finer feelings, man is doomed to a larger participation in the general distress. There is a mingling of hope in all this. There is a looking toward, as well as a "longing after, immortality." There is the sense of a day of light, and largeness, and liberty coming. Even among heathens, there is a dim and distant vision of better days. A brighter land floats before the imagination; free from the toils and struggles of this embryo existence. It is curious that the belief of a primeval happy condition, is linked with the expectation of being restored to that condition. The vision of “the golden age,” is accompanied by the notion of a general revival of all things. Apart from religion, there is the expectation of mankind being transformed into one righteous family; and philanthropists, while disowning Christianity, press toward it. They contemn the immortality revealed by the Bible; but they feel that the spirit cannot rest, without an immortality of their own. Still they feel death to be a grievous deduction from the entireness of a world, which is appealed to as demonstrating the goodness of God. It exhibits all men walking "in a vain show;" and disquieting themselves "in vain ;”+ and though all men were happy, life surely and sadly moves on to a close. Its present inhabitants are pushed off by others; like a series of abortions. Life, in its happiest guise and gayest prosperity, is "subject to vanity." There is a vague aspiration in the heart, after a coming enlargement. We see it in the exertions of orators and warriors, for an immortality of posthumous fame; and, in the visions of philanthropists, are pictured those scenes of purity and peace, on which uninspired prophets love to dwell. Each has a paradise, in which he loves to doat and to dwell; and all this must be attributed to the expectation, inherent in man's bosom, of a brighter revolution in store. There is a big and general distress, heaving with the pains and portents of a coming regeneration. Like the insect which is shut up in a dark chrysalis, ere it comes forth in some beauteous form, man, amid the overwhelming evils of the world, is groping in darkness for his God! The strength of a cause is injured by laying too much stress on what is conjectural; and we therefore rather pass over such topics cursorily, than bring them forward confidently. They are not substantial proofs, but slender presumptions; not manifestations, but inklings of truth. They do not unveil objective truth; but they bring the ethical principle into play. They do not bring into view the light; but they show whether there is light or darkness. There is not enough to satisfy the spirit of man; but enough to condemn the spirit's lethargy. Natural Theology does not bring down a revelation; but it puts the mind into a proper state for receiving a revelation. The youthful mind is apt to trust too much to Natural Theology; and to depend too much on such sentiments as those contained in Addison's papers in the "Spectator;" while, in after-life, they perhaps come to nauseate them altogether, as meagre sentimentalism. I well remember, in my younger days, to have gone through this process. But a middle opinion is the best. Natural Theology is to be considered excellent, as a preceptor to inquiry. It is misrepresented when alleged as the foundation of the edifice; it is but the taper by which we grope our way to it. A building cannot be stronger than its foundation; and it is therefore *Addison's "Cato:" Act 5, Scene 1. + Psalm xxxix. 6. Romans viii. 20. THE COLOURS OF THE FEATHERS OF BIRDS. 371 weakening Theology to place it on such a basis. Natural religion goes before revealed religion, not as a foundation, but as a cry of distress before the relief to which it aspires. It does not go before, in the order of importance; but only historically, in the mind of the inquirer. It is not the premises, of which Christianity is the conclusion; but it raises the inquiry, which Christianity is to satisfy. It is the basis, not of Christianity, but of Christianization. Natural religion may suggest to man his guilt. If he has enjoyed the gifts, while but rarely touched with the thought of a Giver; if the notices of God by which he is surrounded, have disturbed without influencing the general tenour of his engagements; the light of nature takes cognizance of all this, and visits him with remorse and terror. Hence the general insecurity weighing on all spirits; that all is not right within. Without descending into private feelings, this glares palpably in the historical narratives of crime. There is but a step from the dissatisfaction of our own spirits, to the apprehended dissatisfaction of Him, who is felt to be looking down upon us. In the infirmities of the best, there is enough to convict them of sinfulness; for wherever there is the greatest moral rectitude, there is the nicest sense of defect. Thus it is universal; not in Christendom alone, but in all climes. Missionaries have no need to teach this; for it is universally felt by the conscience of the hearers.* THE COLOURS OF THE FEATHERS OF BIRDS. "COLOUR is intended for important purposes, and not merely, as some suppose, for beauty. It is, in fact, a mode of concealment, the most universal of all means of defence, and one that appears in every race of animals. As the strength, the weapons, and the velocity are all on the side of the pursuer, colour is much more resorted to, to defend birds than any other creatures. In the partridge, the quail, the woodcock, and the snipe, for instance, the likeness of their colours to the brown earth on which they move, is such as often to conceal them from every eye, and even from the acute and piercing sight of the hawk and the kite. The hovering foe may be observed above during the chase, though the prey has not escaped; deceived also by smaller birds, even when the accordance in colour is not great. Often do they shift their position under the eye of the hawk longing to pounce upon them, and then stop, as if they knew the colour of the spot on which they are 'cowering and squatting,' as White calls it, were a sure defence. Another purpose is sometimes to be gained by concealment: the support of the bird is attended to by Him who feeds the fowls of the air, no less than its safety. And here, as in other instances, the same means secures both ends. Professor Jones states, that, some years ago, he was conversing with a friend on the best dress for an angler, when the latter stated that he should prefer a sky blue coat and a white waistcoat. Amused by the remark at the moment, it soon passed away but some years after, having occasion to examine a large number of wading birds to whom fish afford a frequent meal, his friend's sky-fashioned dress, as he called it, was at once recollected. The heron, for example, catching fish as its food, by darting its beam at them with the rapidity of an arrow, has, so to speak, a light blue coat and a white waistcoat. The design of this part of its plumage is obvious. As the fish looks upwards, these blue and white feathers conceal the foe; the attire of its enemy is blended with the sky and clouds of the firmament: it passes onwards without fear, and is promptly seized as a prey; when other hues would produce alarm, and the fish would hurry back in haste, or dive into the depths of the waters. This shows that the angler was right in his judgment: he knew, or very sagaciously guessed, the best means he could adopt for the same purpose.' -From The Feather (Religious Tract Society.) Much more, on this subject, will be found in Dr. Chalmers's "Works" volume 2, pages 358 to 420. ("Natural Theology," Book 5, chapter 4.) 4 SANCTIFICATION. TO THE EDITOR OF THE EVANGELICAL REGISTER. DEAR SIR,-There are several excellent ministers of the Gospel, and other good people in this city, who, like Apollos, need to have the way of God expounded to them more perfectly, as he had by Aquila and Priscilla. They are teaching here, and I fear in too many places besides, that we are not to look into ourselves for internal and progressive holiness, but to Christ, whose holiness is imputed, not imparted; according as they suppose is the meaning of St. Paul in 1 Cor. i. 30. That Christ is the source from whom we derive our sanctification, and from whom all our fruit is found, must be admitted; but to deny that internal and progressive holiness are imparted to believers, is to deny what is plainly revealed, and what is absolutely necessary for salvation. But how is it that our brethren are involved in this error? One reason is, because they misinterpret, they misapply Rom. vii. 18—“I know that in me—(that is, in my flesh) dwelleth no good thing." Here, then, it is plain, say they, that St. Paul did not look into himself for internal holiness. And to prove that sanctification is not progressive, but perfect and instantaneous, as regeneration and justification are, they quote St. Paul in Heb. x. 14-" By one offering He hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified." That we are perfectly justified by the one offering by which Christ hath put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself, may be fairly inferred, but not that we are perfectly sanctified by the purification of the Spirit; for there is not a justified man upon the earth, that doeth good and is absolutely free from sin. That our brethren have perfectly misapplied these passages of Holy Writ, and that their interpretation of them cannot be reconciled with the general tenour of God's Word, I purpose to prove; and that it is the will of God that our sanctification should be I. Internal. II. External. III. Progressive. IV. Completed. "For this is the will of God, even your sanctification," says St. Paul, 1 Thess. iv. 3. Here, then, let us observe, that it is the will of God our sanctification should be I. Internal." Behold," saith David, "Thou desirest truth in the inward parts." "Search me, O God, and try me, and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.' “Behold,” saith Christ, concerning Nathanael, "an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile." And concerning young Abijah, it is said, "There was found in him some good thing towards the Lord God of Israel." And yet, through a false humility, how many there are who deny this internal work of the Holy Spirit, and tell us there is no goodness in themselves; but all their goodness, if they have any, is in Christ! Further, it is the will of God that we should be sanctified 1. In our understandings-Eph. v. 17; 2 Cor. iv. 6; 1 John v. 20. 2. In our wills-Psa. cx. 3; Phil. ii. 13. 3. In our conscience-Heb. x. 22; Heb. xi. 14. 4. In our affections-Gal. v. 24; Col. iii. 2. 5. In our memory-1 Cor. xv. 2; Heb. ii. 1. If this is the will of God, that we should thus be internally sanctified, then our brethren are in error who deny it; and if they continue to deny this internal work, they can never realise the beatific vision, and enter the kingdom of God. "Without holiness no man shall see the Lord.' "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." "Who shall ascend unto the hill of the Lord, and stand in His holy place? He that hath clean hands and a pure heart, who doth not lift up his soul in vanity nor swear deceitfully; he shall receive the blessing from the Lord, and righteousness from the God of his salvation." But it is objected, "to teach us to look into ourselves for internal holiness, is |