mind.

By the heart, the intention is meant; by the mind, knowledge; by soul, affection; and by might, active execution, exercise. All these are put forth and employed in loving God. But thus to love God with the whole power of the creature, implies that the creature itself be come to its final, consummated state, having attained to its end, living in its presence, and resting in it. The creature come to its rest, will love with an affection beyond that with which it loves on its way to it. Man will then so love God with all his heart, that, in all he thinks, loves, and does, his whole intention will be fixed on God; with all his mind, that the mind will actually be always directed to God, as always seeing him, and all things in him, and judging of all things according to his truth; with all his soul, that his whole affection is borne to God in loving him continually, and all things else for his sake alone; and with all his might, that of all outward acts the source and reason will be the love of God. This is that perfection of love which is proper to the actually blessed in heaven; and which is possible to no one on earth, by reason of the difference of the states respectively. The actually blessed dwell in the full light of the glorious presence of God; while those who are at home in the body are absent from the Lord. So great, indeed, is the difference, that "it doth not yet appear what we shall be;" but still we are told, though in general terms, that that sight of God in Christ with which we shall then be blessed, will have a corresponding effect on ourselves: "We shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." There will be a higher love, because a higher state, and proper to the higher state; and with that love we cannot love now, because we cannot be at once both in the higher and lower state.

What, then, he asks, in the fifth chapter, is that perfection of love which, in this present life, is necessary to salvation?

The distinction is expressed by the terms, comprehensatores, and viatores.

As probationers, we love God with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength, when our love is entire, and there is nothing which, in act or habit, we do not refer to God. And this perfection of divine love is required from us by direct precept. Thus, first, he is required to refer all things to God, as his proper end; as the Apostle says, "Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God;" (1 Cor. x. 31;) which is fulfilled when the life is entirely disposed in order to the service of God; so that, whatever is done, though done by the man himself, is yet ordered and done in and for God,except, indeed, sins, which lead from God, and which he leaves undone; and so is God loved with all the heart. Secondly, The intellect is to be subjected to God, and those things received which are divinely delivered to us, according to the Apostle, "Bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ" (2 Cor. x. 5 :) and thus is God loved with all the mind. Thirdly, When whatsoever a man loves he loves in God, and universally all his affections are referred to divine love; as the Apostle again says, "Whether we be beside ourselves, it is to God; or whether we be sober, it is for your cause: (2 Cor. v. 13:) and so God is loved with all the soul. And, fourthly, When all our outward doings, our words and works, proceed from, and are governed by, divine love; as says the Apostle, Let all your things be done with charity: (1 Cor. xvi. 14:) and thus is God loved with all our strength. And thus to love God entirely, with all the heart, mind, soul, and strength, is man obliged by necessity of precept.

Thus far, notwithstanding the scholasticism of his method, so greatly interfering with the simplicity of his subject, we may accompany Aquinas, even with pleasure. The perfection of the divine life for man on earth, is the perfection of divine love; and he has rightly stated, that we are required thus to love God by direct commandment.

But how is man, the condemned sinner, thus to obey such a commandment as this? To the obligation under which the precept places us he brings us, and there he stops. Nothing is said of the present salvation of God; nothing of the faith in Christ by which we receive and retain it. Beautiful, therefore, as is the brief description of the state of obedience to the command, clear as is the account of Christian perfection in itself considered, yet the piece, as a piece of practical divinity, is fearfully defective. The state is shown; but on the way of attainment the writer is utterly silent.

But this is not the worst. The five chapters already described do not constitute above one-fourth of the whole. With what, then, is the remainder occupied? Let us see. The title of the sixth chapter opens a new branch of the subject, -a branch which Popery has inserted; and which is not only without the authority of the New Testament, but against it. He before referred to the love which was required by precept: he now proposes to consider "the perfection of divine love which is by counsel."* The sum of what he means is this: Though we cannot love with exactly the same kind of love as do the blessed in heaven; yet if, instead of being content with the precept, we listen to ecclesiastical counsel, we shall come into a spiritual condition superior to that of those who only obey the precept. He supposes there is a way-and the whole Romish doctrine of counsel rests on this-by which we may love God with a kind of love superior to that which belongs to viatores, though not arriving at that of the comprehensatores. And as the blessed in heaven have nothing to do with earthly things, he argues that they who put away earthly things, other things being equal, approach the nearest to them. He descants, therefore, on voluntary poverty, on celibacy, on obedience to religious superiors and rules in religious society, and on the value of a state in which *De perfectione divinæ dilectionis, quæ cadit

sub consilio.

we have nothing to think about but contemplating and loving; that is, on the Roman monasticism.

His grand mistake lies here. The state of the blessed, and the state of probationers, differ, not by the presence or absence of the earthly adjuncts of our present condition, as the whole scheme of counsel, as distinguished from precept, supposes; but by this, one is a state of sight and rest, the other a state of faith and labour. Resemblance to heaven cannot here on earth be circumstantial; it must exist in principle, or not at all,-even in cheerful subjection to the will of God. But for this, a man may not choose his own state; but, in holy obedience, leave it to Providence to direct his paths. If leisure be necessary, God will give it him; if activity, to activity he shall be led. Whether his inheritance shall be riches or poverty, sickness or health, pleasure or pain, attending to present and obvious duty, he is to say, "Lord, thou shalt choose our inheritance for us." Every state of life has its disadvantages and advantages, its temptations to evil as well as its opportunities of good. And no human wisdom is here sufficient to afford counsel; for no human wisdom sufficiently knows individual man. God does, and God will, direct and lead all who properly look to him for guidance. For ourselves, we have only to attend to the written word for instruction, and to cry earnestly for grace to take full heed to its directions.

And, by taking heed to this, Mr. Wesley was at once enabled to take the good that he found in human writers, and to avoid the evil too often mixed with it. He, too, saw that Christian perfection was the perfection of love, as included in the very terms of the command; but he saw that this was to be a social religion,-a religion to be sought by rich and poor, husbands and wives, men of leisure and men of business, ecclesiastics and laics; and sought by them in their own providential state, that that state might be illustrated by the clear splendours of a practical piety.

fess, that when at last we came into the presence of the literary Censor, and the box and its contents were fairly exposed to his view, he behaved with the greatest courtesy and consideration; and though the entire Scriptures, in Hebrew, Greek, and English, together with several books bearing reference to the restoration of Israel, and other subjects of Protestant theology, came under his inquisitive glance, he read out their titles, addressed me in good English,-upon which he rather seemed to pique himself,-and said, "If you are satisfied, so am I;" and permitted me to replace my little treasure of sacred literature in the box, and kindly facilitated my movements in what yet remained to be done at the Dogana; but I did not escape without paying a duty per pound upon my books, Bibles and all. Alas for Rome!

The Holy Week had commenced before we reached Rome; and so great was the influx into the city at that time, that we found it a matter of much difficulty to procure accom. modation of any kind. Having at length succeeded, and refreshed ourselves after our wearisome journey, we proceeded at once to the objects of interest which claimed our attention. We allotted to ourselves six days for our sojourn in Rome, little enough, it must be confessed; but we were anxious to press onwards to scenes of deeper interest still. Two main objects lay before me the one, was to see all that could be seen of Popery at its headquarters; the other, was to contemplate the remains of Rome scattered around me, with all their traces of ancient glory and ruined magnifi

:

cence.

Our first excursion was from the Via del Babuino, over the bridge of St. Angelo, commanding the celebrated fort of that name, straight to St. Peter's. I feel difficulty in communicating to others the first and subsequent impressions made on my mind by that celebrated structure. On driving up to the grand area, so noble in its dimensions, with its cool gush of graceful fountains fling ing up their feathery streams to a

great height, and returning them in rich dews upon the thirsty pavement; and on gazing forwards to the cathedral itself, with its dome and stately colonnades on either side, and with the splendid elevation of the Vatican-the residence of the assumed Vicegerent of Christ upon earth-looking down upon the vast pile with which it is connected in silent majesty, and telling the dark story of many a departed day in the annals of the Papacy; there was in my mind a sense of disappointment, which was not by any means diminished when I set my foot within the portico of the temple. On analyzing the state of my mind, I found that the sense of disappointment did not arise from any cause really induced by St. Peter's itself; but from the actually unprepared state of the mental perception. It is one thing to see with the natural eye, another to perceive with the inward vision of the mind. I saw St. Peter's at first only with the natural eye; and it appeared not indeed diminutive or insignifi cant, but small in proportion to the mental picture I had conceived of it. During my first visit I was not able to get my mind fairly at work upon the subject, so occupied was it by the various things which fixed my attention at once, and in succession; and so St. Peter's was still an object of disappointment. It was only after the second and third visit that I discovered the cause of this; when I found, that as my mind expanded over the various details of architectural magnificence, so the grand whole expanded itself before my perception, till I became powered by the full sense of vastness. Every mind, I am persuaded, must undergo such a process as this, before the full effect of St. Peter's is realized. I began by a comparative view of things. I first took one of the nave pillars nearest to me at the western entrance. I saw how diminutive the tallest men appeared at its base. I then gazed upwards to the foot of a marble statue, which was so boldly colossal, that, when I carried my eye upwards to its full height, it seemed at a point of ele

over

vation sufficient to be the capital of a main pillar of any ordinary structure. Beyond the head of the statue the pillar towered loftily, joined itself to the vault of the immense nave, and fell into junction with a corresponding pillar on the other side, down which my eye travelled till it rested on its base. I tried to view these two pillars in their connexion with the arch of the nave, separate from the lengthened colonnade of which they were the commencement; and, having imbibed the distinct idea of them, I suffered my mind to carry it on to every succeeding column, till, resting for a moment on the high altar, with its magnificent bronze and gold castings, I glanced onwards to the grand eastern termination; and then it was, while thousands and thousands of devotees and others were pacing the marble area, like pigmies rather than men, that I was able to compass the idea of St. Peter's as a temple fitting, in its magnificence, the noblest of all purposes, though degraded to the uses of a base and God-dishonouring idolatry.

Of the statuary, with which every part of St. Peter's abounds, it is impossible to speak in terms of adequate admiration. It seems as if marble breathed and became eloquent, as well as graceful and majestic, under the hand of the sculptor-magician. I could fill this volume with details of such matters; but I must pause, and only mention one statue in particular, now designated as St. Peter, but once Jupiter. It is in bronze; and the hand which once wielded the thunderbolt now grasps the key, an emblem of power not less terrible than the other. It is a fine, calm, dignified statue; and the right foot is actually worn by the frequent and fervent kissing of devotees, to which it has been and is continually subject.

When we reached St. Peter's on our first visit, the vesper-service had begun; and certainly the music, consisting of human voices, without any instrumental accompaniment whatever, was of the richest kind; but, alas! the spirit of devotion seemed not to influence the hearts

of the assembled multitudes. After the service was concluded, a procession of Priests, of various orders, was formed, from which certain individuals advanced, and enacted the accustomed ceremony of washing the high altar with wine and water; next followed an exhibition of relics, such as the spear-head with which the side of our adorable Redeemer is said to have been pierced; a fragment of the "true cross," &c.; and, lastly, came processions of pilgrims from all parts of the world where Popery prevails,-carrying back our associations to the earlier ages of Papal dominancy. The immense area of St. Peter's was thronged with visiters, amongst whom were many English; Ecclesiastics of all grades and orders, in their graceful and picturesque attire; and Monks with their shaven crowns, and the various habits of their order. It was altogether a most imposing scene; but the great drawback upon it all was the melancholy feeling, that religion-the religion which saves souls and glorifies God-had no place in this splendid temple of a false system.

On the 25th of March, being Good-Friday, we had the happiness of attending divine service at the English chapel, which is situated just outside the Porta del Popolo, on the road to Florence. The ser

mon

was solemn and profitable, from Luke xxiii. 48. It was no small privilege to be permitted there, in the very strong-hold of Popery, to hear the truth as it is in Jesus simply and faithfully proclaimed. We occupied a few hours afterwards in exploring some of the more distinguished churches in the city, splendid in decoration as well as in architecture; as if human wealth were possessed only for one end, the giving lustre to the various appointments connected with a religion such as that professed and taught by the Church of Rome.

Passing onwards in our peregrinations, we reached the Pantheon,the Pantheon of ancient Rome. Time had been, when perishing mortals received apotheosis there. But things are changed, yet scarcely for the