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of himself to a state of final and irreversible perdition, if he could thereby have promoted the conversion of them which were bis flesh, and might save them from that wrath and destruction, which are the portion of all who abide in unbelief.' But such a sentiment being too horrid and indefensible, as well as in itself imPolible, to be imputed to the Author of this epistle,'-others have supposed that the words ‘may bear a milder and less exceptionable rendering, and signify the being devoted to temporal death,'-" so that he wished to be devoted even to death for the eternal salvation of his brethren the Jews.'-Neither of these opinions are approved by our Author;—who thinks that if there be a scriptural sense of being accursed from God, which does not imply final everlasting destruction, and yet denotes not merely temporal bodily suffering or misery, but a great deal more than what is commonly meant when we speak of the afflictions of this world and of our present life, in contradistinction from those that are spiritual or eternal; then there will be no necessity of underftanding the wish, to be accursid from Chrif, in such a sense as shall either fall short of the force of the letter, or else on the other hand be irreconcileable with the principles of nature, of reason, and of religion.' Now this middle notion, as it may be called, of being accursed, has a sure foundation (he says) in holy writ, particularly in St. Paul's epistles :--but for his proofs, we must refer to the work itself.
* This then' he proposes, p. 28,-' as a just explanation of the apostle's sentiment or wish that it were possible for him to be accursed from Christ; namely, that supposing it possible that they could have redemption through his blood, he could then for the sake of his brethren wish to be actually accursed from Christ in the same manner as Christ is said to have been accursed from God. For the apostle a little before is speaking of God's sparing not his own Son, but delivering him up, that is, making him a curse, for us; and having in a summary way celebrated the unspeakable benefits obtained by his most precious facrifice and intercession for us, he next expresses the greatness of his concern and sorrow on account of his unbelieving brethren. Hence it is more than probable, that the sacrifice of Christ and the benefits thereof, which immediately precede this with, was the thought upper most in the apostle's mind, and was introductory to it. By lupplying and bringing into view these circumstances, as implied or tacitly contained in the wish, and exhibiting the whole of the apostle's meaning or sentiment, both the spirit and letter of the text will be preserved, without supposing him willing to submit to a total forfeiture of the benefits of the gospel dispensation, or final deDruction itself.-And how now, or in what manner, or with what peculiar circumfiances was Christ accursed from God? why
not only by the bodily pains and death of crucifixion, but by being so deprived of all sense of God's love and favour, so afflicted and oppressed with a sense of the divine wrath and indignation, as in the inconceivable gony of his soul to cry out, My God, my God, why haft thou forsaken me ! enduring every possible degree of misery and spiritual defertion, short of desperation. Now this was not merely a secular suffering; nor yet was it an everlasting accurfed ftate; but it was a mixed, a finite, yet withal a spiritual misery, or travail of the soul, as the scripture speaks.In regard to this state of spiritual desertion and anguish especially, more terrible than all other terrors, Christ is said to have been made a curse for us.' And though St. Paul • knew it was neither possible nor fit that any man should make agreement unto God for the soul of his br.ther; yet such a declaration as this, of his uillingness to become a sacrifice himself for his kinsmen, was the higher conceivable expression of his vehement concern and love for them, as well as of his most ardent zeal to advance the glory of God in the salvation of his peculiar people.'—Thus interpreted, our Author thinks the passage under consideration consistent with the hope, or rather full assurance, which St. Paul often mentions, of his own final salvation and the eternal enjoyment of God; so that it seems to be within the possibility of a rational creature's, or however of the Chriftian's resignation of himself, whilit directed and affifted from above.'
The foregoing is a contracted view of Mr. Keeling's interpretation of this remarkable text, and may serve as a ipecimen, though without entering into the many learned and critical disquisitions, with which his pamphlet abounds,—and which are more likely to recommend it to the curious, than the common Reader, for whose use it appears not to have been calculated.
The virtuous Widow: or Memoirs of the Baronefs de Batteville,
translated from the French of Madame le Prince de Beaumont.
3 s. bound. Nourse, HE Baroness de Batteville, was the daughter of a captain
of horse, who dying soon after his marriage, left her mother six months gone with child, and in ablolute want. Supported, however, in this dreadful dilemma by the hopes of preserving the pledge of her love, she, with becoming confidence, resolved to depend upon providence; and flattered herself, that she should, by afsiduous labour, be able to provide a sufficient resource against poverty.
Her daughter (Julia) as fhe grew up, was remarkable for her beauty and accomplishments; but as she had amused herself hilosophical Itudies, the conversation of the men, in gerred so trivial to her, and the picture which she had
formed in idea, of the man, capable of pleasing her, was to perfect and uncommon, that the thought herself in no danger of losing her heart. Her mother, who supported her, as well as herself, by her labour, which was chiefly embroidering, met by accident with an officer's widow, a former acquaintance; and the parity of their circumstances induced them to live together This lady had a son, whom she was often praising in the highest terms, which was attributed by Julia to the fond partiality of a mother, without giving her much credit for her lavish encomiums. However, the picture the drew, so well agreed with her ideal favourite, and the mother took so many occafions of launching out into his praise, that poor Julia began to feel an impatience to see this youth.
Her curiosity was soon after satisfied, at the expence of her happiness; for Monsieur D'Effart fo fully answered the description given of him, that, notwithstanding all her philosophy, the conceived, at first fight, an affection which nothing could erafc-'The cafe was much the same with D'Effart, who had a foul too fufceptible, and a judgment too refined not to be affected with the external charms of Julia, heightened by the singular virtues and improvement of her mind. Love só exceflive wiil soon find an occasion of discovering itself. The explanation of their mutual affection was joy inexpreffible to the lovers, but gave the most poignant grief to the young lady's mother, who, though the could not but approve the choice of Julia's heart, was afraid, as they were both unprovided for, the connection would involve her daughter in a series of misfortunes, which she herself had but too sensibly felt from the same cause. An accident, that happened foon after, gave a dawning of hope, that her fears were groundless. A relation of hers dying at Marseilles, had left her a legacy, which if she should obtain, the proposed to make it over to her daughter, and no longer oppose a union in which the happiness of both, who were now almost equally dear to her, was so essentially concerned. For this end she set out for Marseilles, accompanied with Monsieur D'Effart. Julia, as may be supposed, could not well bear so cruel a separation, but her grief was yet increased by not receiving any letter from either, for the space of fix months. She was now almost distracted, and entered into a convent, where she soon after received a letter from her mother, acquainting her that her long filence had been owing to her having been seized with the plague, which then raged at Marseilles, but that by the sole alitance of Monsieur D'Efiart, she had recovered, and was in hopes of seeing her very soon. In short, her mother returned some months after, but alone, and without reaping any advantage from her journey, and had
all the reason in the world to believe that Monsieur D'Effart had perished there.
Her mother's arrival and the confirmation of her fears left poor Julia almost in a state of distraction-Two years being elapsed, by some accidental connections in the nunnery she became known to Baron de Batteville, a man of large fortune, but more remarkable for the benevolence of his disposition. Tho' he was at this time fifty, and was sensible of the impropriety of addressing one so young as Julia ; yet as he found his happiness actually at stake, he engaged the abbess to make the proposal, and soon after wrote the young lady a letter, with an express declaration of his passion. After much hesitation, and confesling to him, how her heart was devoted to the memory of another, The at last made a facrifice of her inclination to the importunities of the abbess, but more particularly of her mother, who the knew would by this means be provided for.
The Baron studied every means to compensate, by his kind treatment of his wife, for the disparity of years ; and she was further endeared to him by becoming the mother of a fine girl.
D'Essart, who was supposed to be dead of the plague, but had been miraculously preserved, had now spent many years abroad, in hopes to repair, by, his industry, the deficiency of his fortune. Though he knew all hopes of possessing his Julia, were at an end, and he was too generous to entertain a sentiment to her dishonour, yet was he impelled by a kind of fatality to take up his residence at Rheims, where the then lived. His passion for her still subsisted : he hired a lodging that looked into her garden, and without being perceived by her, used to please himself with observing her, as the only enjoyment that was now left him.--By meeting accidentally in a coffee house, he became acquainted with the Baron ; who conceived an uncommon esteem for him, and often, in vain, pressed him to accompany him to his house. The Baron one day coming out of church with his daughter, who was now twelve years old, the fight of the latter greatly surprized and affected Monsieur D'Essart. Her perfect resemblance of his dear Julia, filled his eyes with tears.
This was observed by Mademoiselle Julia, (the daughter) with some concern; which, in the innocence of her heart she communicated to her mother.
At this time, as the Baroness suspected nothing, she had no fears but for her daughter; the sensibility of whole heart might hereafter subject her to innumerable misfortunes.-It happened that, during the absence of the Baron, a fire broke out in Julia's bed-chamber, and Mr. D’Esfart was the means of preserving the lives of both the mother and daughter.--Being convinced that he was now discovered by her whom he had hitherto so carefully avoided, he immediately left the place.-In vain did the Baron make
all possible enquiries to discover his retreat ; for he was now determined, should he be happy enough to find D'Effart, to give him his daughter in marriage. The Baroness, whose contternation at the fire, was further encreased by seeing Monsieur D'Effart, whom she then believed to be an apparition, began, on her first composure, to lay together the various circumstances she could collect from the Baron's remarks, and was now convinced Monsieur D'Essart was still alive-This was further confirmed to her by a letter the received secretly, wherein he exhorted her to think no more of him, and used every persuasive that religion or honour could suggest.
Soon after this, the Baron died, and Julia the daughter learnt by accident the whole history relating to Monsieur D'Effart and her mother. Though she herself loved him with the utmost tenderness, yet preferring her mother's happiness to her own, she generously resolved to effect it by stratagem. To this end the withdrew to a nunnery, from whence the vowed she would never return, till her mother should proinise to marry Monsieur D’Essart. The Baroness was also well acquainted with sulia's love for him-In short, after assuring both Monsieur D'Effart and Julia, in the strongest terms, that she had actually conquered a passion, which she no longer could harbour with honour, and infisting on her daughter's marriage with him, as the only thing on earth, that could save her from the utmoft distress, Monsieur D'Essart arrives at Rheims, and the marriage is solemnized in the presence of the virtuous widow.
The perplexity occasioned by so odd a circumstance, is agreeably unravelled, and the delicacy of the parties is well preserved.
But many improbable circumstances occur here and there, which can never be digested but in a Catholic country: Particularly the escape of Monsieur D'Effart, who is supposed to have been taken away by the men appointed to remove the dead bodies; to have been thrown into the common pit, with several carcaffes upon him; to have lain there insensible all night, and in the morning to come safe out again. His motive for abandoning all thoughts of Julia, from his infatuated persuasion that God required him to devote his life to the mortifying tho’ benevolent office of attending on the sick, must appear equally ridiculous in a country where protestantism has taken place; which teaches us, that all severities wantonly imposed on ourselves, can add nothing to the honour of Omnipotence; and that the most reasonable manner of serving God, fo far from being destructive of our temporal welfare, is the only means of securing it.--However, the moral which this work conveys, is good : viz. an entire dependance on the will of heaven, and a resignation under misfortunes, which may be attended with such happy consequences, as the narrowness of our understanding will not permit us to foresee.