to declare it ALL'. But if we would be faithful stewards of God's mysteries, we must take the Bible as one harmonious whole, comparing spiritual things with spiritual, and each text with those that seem to contradict it. We must reject every shadow of favouritism or selection. We must give an equal and impartial exposition of all the truths we find there. We must remember with awe that Jehovah has pronounced an equal curse on all those who take from, and on all those who add to, the words of His book. We must lay down a few general

'The following may be taken as a curious specimen of that partial way of explaining Scripture, which makes doctrines rest in particular verses, instead of abiding by the general tenor of the whole. In the Epistle to the Ephesians, St. Paul says, with a view to check the self-righteousness of men, and to humble them before the Cross: For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: not of works, lest any man should boast. Now there is a large class of preachers who often argue from this text, and prove by it much more than the Apostle intended it should prove; almost seeming to infer that good works are not only of no avail, but are rather a drawback from the Christian character, and denote a mistrust in the merits of the Atonement. But now mark how carefully St. Paul himself guards against this misconstruction, by immediately adding: For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God had before ordained that we should walk in them. Take the whole, and you see how beautifully the Apostle warns men against a presumptuous morality on one hand, and against an inactive faith on the other. Those who "shun not to declare ALL the counsel of God" will do the same. But is it fair to give out half a sentence and suppress the other, and so make him say the reverse of what he means?

principles as the basis of our discourses, and on them erect a systematic and connected view of all the revealed oracles of God. Thus only may we catch, and impart to others, some glimmering of that celestial light, whose full lustre is reserved for the glorious day when we shall behold, face to face, all that we now see darkly through a glass.

What then is that counsel of God, about which men are so divided, and yet on the right understanding of which their eternal interests are at stake? Abstractedly, the counsel of God is that primeval law by which the great Being, who alone is from everlasting to everlasting, who dwelleth unseen in the majesty of darkness, and whose throne is pavilioned in unutterable light, governs the immensity of the universe that He created; the law by which all times are to Him as present, a thousand years as one day, and one day as a thousand years; the law by which suns and systems are retained in their orbits, "wheeling unshaken through the void immense1;" the law by which the restless ocean obeys the voice that said, thus far, and no further, shalt thou go, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed; the law by which insects creep, and by which angels soar; the law by which harmony rose out of chaos, and light sprang from the womb of darkness. This is the law of Jehovah -this is the counsel of God! And every study that enlarges our view of the majesty of nature,

and of the glories of the creation, is to be applauded, so long as that noble end is kept in view, and so long as we guard against the obvious danger of dwelling on secondary causes till we forget the first great Cause of all, and admiring less the greatness of the Eternal, than our own puny efforts in discovering His laws.

But the Christian view of the counsel of God is less vague, and more definite, in the objects of its contemplation. From the bewildering variety of things that crowd beneath the gaze of the natural philosopher, the eye seeks repose in a more circumscribed prospect, and rests upon that great scheme for man's redemption, which was laid ere the world began, and will survive its reeking ruins.

To a Christian, then, the question What is the counsel of God, resolves itself into this one :- What do we chiefly learn from the Bible? And, if we follow, not the fancies of human conjecture, but the oracles of revelation, the answer will be a very simple one. Every science rests on a few general principles; and so does the first of all sciences, theology. The whole Scriptures, whether we consider the prophecies of the Old Testament, or the miracles of the New, are founded on three great doctrines, which, by their union, constitute the GOSPEL, the glad tidings of redemption to mankind; the doctrine of the FALL, the doctrine of the CROSS, the doctrine of the SPIRIT. These are the great truths which the Bible reveals; and our message is

to deliver them. These three truths may be called the doctrinal trinity, and are as indissolubly connected as that mysterious triune essence which we worship under the names of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. The doctrine of the FALL shows the necessity for an ATONEMENT;-the doctrine of the CROSS the efficacy of that ATONEMENT;-the doctrine of the SPIRIT the moral influence of that ATONEMENT. So that, finally, the great sacrifice and atonement of Jesus Christ upon the cross is, to the Christian, all in all. There may be an infinite variety of ways of setting forth these truths; but to keep them constantly in view, as the general principles on which his discourses are to be founded, is the main duty of the preacher. A discourse where they appear not, or only act a subordinate part, may be an elegant essay, but cannot be a Christian sermon. And yet, unless we are very cautious how we present these truths, we may so preach them as to do more harm than good; we may, without intending it, be using them to sap away what they were intended to consolidate,—the foundations of morality. We may say no more than is true, and yet, by a partial view of the truth, we may exhibit both the fall and the cross in such terms, as will encourage men to look upon the one as an excuse for sin, and upon the other as a cover for it. Suffer me, then, my brethren, before we part, to retrace to you once more an outline of those views on which my addresses from this place have been

founded, and to leave it with you as the last token of my regard, and the last remembrance of a too imperfect ministry.

1. The first awful lesson that we learn from revelation, is that

Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit

Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world, and all our woe.

We learn that man,-proud, arrogant, self-sufficient man,—is a miserable fallen being, by nature a child of wrath, an heir of death, "spouse of the worm, and brother of the clay." Experience cries. aloud, to bear witness to the voice of God, and the history of empires, and the biography of individuals, too plainly testify, that "the imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth." To what extent this innate depravity goes-whether entire, or partial,— whether an occasional perversion, or a total prostration of moral power,-is but a question of degree. We may, if we like, dispute that statement of the doctrine that recognises no innate moral difference between man and man,-between the wretch who betrays his country, and the patriot who dies to save it. We may say with the poet,

Mean tho' I am, not wholly so,

Since quickened by thy breath,—

We may, if we like, consider the moral conflicts, and the perpetual contradictions which most men