There may be much mystery in some of the bearings of this question; but in those features of it in which we are most deeply interested, everything appears to be very plain and perspicuous,-clear, indeed, as the sun shining at noonday. Why, then, is it not of man's will and effort, but of God's mercy manifested to sinners, that they are saved? Is it because there is not virtue sufficient in the atonement for the salvation of all men? How can we imagine this, when we reflect upon the nature of the Redeemer's sacrifice, and upon the infinitely glorious character of him who presented it? Is it not distinctly recorded that his "blood cleanseth from all sin?" Is not the merit of that sacrifice boundless? Can human thought or imagination reach it? Is not Christ "able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him?" Did he not die "for the ungodly?" Did he not "make his soul an offering for sin," as such? Did he not "taste death for every man?" Did not "God so love the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him might not perish, but have everlasting life?" The reason, then, of the doctrine asserted in the text, is not to be sought for in the limited sufficiency of that atonement, which could wash away the guilt of worlds upon worlds, and which it would be the height of blasphemy to limit by any of our finite conceptions. Or can we attribute the statement of the text to any restriction which attaches to the offer of salvation in the gospel? Assuredly not. Did Christ restrict that offer? When he was teaching the highest doctrines of Divine sovereignty, did he not say, "Whosoever cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out?" Did he not stand and cry, "On the last great day of the feast at Jerusalem, If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink ?” Did he not say to the most prejudiced of his nation, while they were yet clinging to Jewish rites and ceremonies, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest?" Did he not announce the grand truth, that "the Son of man came to seek and to save that which was lost?" And how did his apostles act? Did they content themselves by preaching to the people of God? Or, did they not everywhere call sinners to repentance? Was not their language to all who heard them, "We pray you, in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God?" Did they not place Christ and him crucified before men, as the only sure foundation on which they could build, and then encourage them to put their whole trust in his finished work? The gospel, assuredly, is good news to all. It "proclaims liberty to the captive, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound." It points every sinner who hears it to "the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world." It announces to every child of guilt and woe that God is love. It is an unconditional exhibition of the way of pardoning mercy to the very "chief of sinners." If we look, then, for the reason of the doctrine which the apostle asserts in the words under consideration, we cannot discover it in any insufficiency of the work of Christ, or in any limitation of the offers of Divine mercy to the guilty; they are both unlimited, and they both partake of a character of infinity, answering to the source whence they spring. Still it is true, that "it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth mercy." How is this? What are the true reasons? They appear then to be twofold. The first reason is with the sinner himself; and the second is with God. 1. The one reason is with the sinner himself. He always wills wrong, because his will is corrupt and depraved. He is guilty for this, just because he does will wrong; but "Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean?-no, not one?" If the sinner's will moved aright towards God he would no longer be entitled to the designation of a sinner; but would rank with those holy beings who delight | single exception, and, therefore, they cannot become their own Saviour. to do the will of God, and who live beneath his perpetual smile. But just because the sinner's will is wrong, because he inclines continually to that which is evil, it is a moral impossibility that his salvation should ever come of himself. For the same reasons, the sinner runs wrong. His conduct and his character are as much in fault as his will. He walks "according to the course of this present evil world; according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience." He runs in the way of folly, rebellion, and unbelief. He "runs with a multitude to do evil." And when he runs even in the direction of religion, it is not in the path which God hath pointed out to him; but in some by-path of his own invention, by which he hopes to become his own Saviour. If you could suppose a sinner willing aright, and running aright, you might then imagine it a thing possible that he could be saved; but the very idea of such a thing is a contradiction in terms. A sinner can only will and run like himself; and as he is essentially sinful, he will ever will and run in the direction of evil, and in that course which leadeth to destruction. Do not, then, suppose him willing aright, and running aright, and yet not saved; but as always willing wrong, and running wrong, and, therefore, not saved. There is surely no very great mystery in all this. Especially, when we call to remembrance, that every sinner from the beginning has willed wrong, and run wrong. There has been no exception to this state of things hitherto, and we may be sure that there never will be. If the stream rises higher than the fountain, it must be by reason of some impelling force; and if ever any sinner begins to will aright and to run aright, we may be equally sure that some influence foreign to depraved nature has begun to act upon bim. This, then, is the first reason of the doctrine of the text-sinners will wrongly and act wrongly, and this without a But, 2. The other reason is with God. For it is not more certain that "it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth," than that is "of God that showeth mercy." And what is the lesson that this declaration teaches us, in the connection in which it stands? It is a lesson which high doctrinalists would be unwilling to unfold, but which it is delightful to proclaim; viz., that God takes occasion from the utter inability of man to save himself, to stretch forth the arm of his mercy and might to rescue him from his lost and ruined state. It comes, then, to this, that man's necessity is God's opportunity. By no effort of will, and by no act of obedience, can any child of Adam become the instrument of his own salvation; he must be lost then eternally if God does not interpose; without righteousness and without strength to what refuge can he look? to what source of hope can he cling? If he look within, what can he discover but darkness, guilt, and despair? If he look back, what can he trace but the footsteps of a transgressor from the very womb? If he look forward, what can he see in the boundless future but "the blackness of darkness for ever?" If he look to the creatures around him, with one voice they proclaim, "Salvation is not in us." But if he turn away from all, and look to God, he he may then recognise an all-sufficient source of hope and deliverance. cannot believe that the text was ever intended to act as a ground of discouragement to sinners; but to teach them this momentous doctrine, that, though salvation is not of the creature, it is the high prerogative of God to save. It is not upon man's vain effort to save himself that salvation depends; but upon Him that "showeth mercy." Every other doctrine but the doctrine of grace, exhibits salvation as a thing impossible; but in this Divine scheme we see that salvation is not only possible, but that it is an event in the history of our world We which brings glory to the triune God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. God will claim to himself to be "the God of salvation." "He will have mercy on whom he will have mercy; and he will have compassion on whom he will have compassion." The doctrine of grace is the only star of hope to a dying world. It shuts every other avenue of promise to sinners, that it may lay wide open to their view the boundless love of God in Christ Jesus. It proclaims all men to be in an undone and sinful state, that they may look to the one and only hope of salvation, which beams from the throne of eternal love. Thus, then, there are two grand reasons, why salvation is not of us; the one reason is with man himself, and the other is with God. Salvation "is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth," because man's will and man's way are always corrupt; and, therefore, it is that man's only plea is free and sovereign grace, and that his only refuge is in Him whose standing memorial it is that he "showeth mercy." "It is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth mercy." And now III. WE PROPOSE TO GUARD THIS DocTRINE AGAINST THE PRACTICAL ABUSE TO WHICH IT IS EXPOSED. 1. It is a great abuse of this doctrine, when the apostasy of man is pleaded as an excuse for his guilt. No page of Scripture warrants such a use of the doctrine of grace. That doc trine, indeed, is a refuge for the guilty -the only refuge to which they can betake themselves; but it was never intended to excuse, but to proclaim their guilt. Sin is not a misfortune, but a crime. Every sinner is a wilful rebel against God; and if he dies out of Christ he will be treated as such to all eternity. It is very awful when sin is spoken of as if it were something that the sinner is compelled to commit. The real truth of the case is, that the sinner "loves darkness rather than light, because his deeds are evil;" and every sinner's conscience tells him this, however he may seek to stifle and pervert its testimony. 2. Another sad abuse of this doctrine is that of neglecting to appeal to sinners, because salvation is of the Lord. This plan is so directly at variance with the teaching of Christ and his apostles, that it might be left with thoughtful men to refute itself. It is founded in the miserable fallacy, that there is nothing in fallen man to which we can appeal. Now, on the contrary, the gospel is so constructed, that it is divinely adapted to the state of sinners. It is made for them; it is revealed to them; it is to be "preached" to them "for the obedience of faith." It appeals to all their hopes, and fears, and interests; and it is in the very act of preaching Christ to sinners, that we have any reason to look for that mighty operation of the Spirit, by which only they can be quickened to spiritual life. It is His work to unfold the grace of God to the sinner's heart; but this he does through the medium of that testimony which it is the duty of ministers to proclaim, in the tone of invitation, persuasion, and love. The prophet was to prophesy to the dry bones, and so must we. We are to "pray sinners, in Christ's stead, to be reconciled unto God." That is not a gospel ministry that does not deal with sinners as such, and that does not call on them with all earnestness to repent and believe the gospel. 3. It is a serious perversion of this doctrine which would so explain it as to make it a ground of discouragement to sinners. The sovereignty of Divine grace, properly viewed, is the only beam that illumines the sinner's path. There is no other hope for him but the mercy of God. God. Sovereignty, not equity, is the sinner's only plea. Nothing springs from this sovereignty but gifts of love. Who shall dare, then, to fix on any sinner of mankind, and say, there is no hope in sovereignty for you. Let the sinner but turn from the broken cisterns, that can hold no water, and he will find in sovereignty a fountain ever full and ever free. Let him learn the Divine lesson, that "it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth," and he will then see with a clear and joyful eye that it is "God that showeth mercy." If the sovereignty of Divine love is trampled upon and disdained, then let every sinner know that he will be handed over to POWER OF MORAL PAINTING IN SERMONS. [THE following paper was written by the late Rev. J. H. Smith, missionary at Madras. Those who knew him well, will perceive that in the train of thought that runs through it, the paper is very characteristic of his mental habits. Religion was not with him a mere theory it was reality, living reality, full of life and power. His life, labours, and character are worthy of a record among those of departed worth from the missionary field. He was zealous, active, enterprising, catholic, and prayerful. He was originally a pastor of a Congregational church at Hulme, Manchester; and was fifteen years a missionary in the Presidency of Madras. He left his chosen and loved work, that of a missionary, about the 20th or 21st of May, 1843, for the mansions his Master has prepared for all his disciples. He had gone from Madras to Vizagapatam to assist at the ordination of a missionary, and embarked on board of a small vessel bound from the latter port to Madras, but on the above dates one of those fearful gales well known in the Bay of Bengal ingulfed the ship, and he found a watery grave. "The sea shall give up its dead," and then he shall, with "the small and great, stand before God." The Rev. M. Winslow, American missionary, preached a sermon, which is published, on the occasion of his death, and from which a sentence or two is taken in this short notice. We know of no other notice of any length of his character and excellences. From a Correspondent.] Moral painting is presenting images to the mind by language. It effects by words what the correspondent art does by the pencil and canvass. Common language has not this power, as even the words which stand for defined and well-known objects do not in general suggest an image. We think of the name, not of the thing. But figurative language, or vivid description, awakens the imagination; the words become things; and the objects pass before us. Thus in the description of Satan : "The foe of God and man, From his dark den blaspheming, drags his chain, Where an individual is not specified, "Why did I not pass away in secret like a Of the rock, that lifts its fair head unseen, and And in the following: "His hand the good man fastens on the skies, And bids earth roll, nor heeds its idle whirl." The imagination can create an image where there is no archetype in nature: "See how the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon eastern hill." And in the following most moving description from the Book of Job: "In thought from the visions of the night, It stood still, but I could not discern the An image was before mine eyes, These examples, besides leading us to | around him, and his harp fallen at his see the nature of moral painting, will aid side, admiring the half-formed moon us in getting some notion of its power. gliding down the heavens, with unnumThis must be great. It is the same in bered stars in her train, whose lustre is kind with historic painting, of whose hardly eclipsed by her softened rays, unmagic effect any child who has seen a til filled with the scene, he exclaims: picture may be sensible. Objects of sight strike us powerfully, and a graphic description may be transferred from paper to the canvass, as the following: "I have seen the walls of Balclutha, but they were desolate. The flames had resounded in the hall, and the voice of the people is heard no more. The stream of Clutha is removed from its place, by the fall of the walls. The thistle shook its lonely head. The moss whistled to the wind. The fox looked out from the window, and the rank grass of the wall waved round his head." Language may even exceed the pencil in its effect; since the latter can present images only in one attitude, while the former gives them motion and utterance. But whatever the effect is, the whole power of language to produce emotions must be measured by it. Words enlighten the understanding, but only images the heart. The importance of moral painting to eloquence is, of course, great. Where description is concerned it is everything. It makes fictions realities. We see them. The objects live, move, and are embodied before us. The orator attains his highest point; for he gives to things distant and imaginary the power of real presence. In abstract truths its influence is less direct but not less important. It secures attention. This is the first object of the orator. If it be not gained, nothing is gained. Without it the reasoning of a Paul or Apollos is no better than empty declamation. It prepares us to receive impressions. Let the interrogation of the psalmist, "Lord, what is man that thou art mindful of him?" be presented with the scenery in the midst of which it was probably uttered. Let David, a youthful shepherd, be shown seated, during the stillness of a clear midnight, on some hillock, with his sleeping flock "When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, The moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained, What is man, that thou art mindful of him? Or the son of man, that thou visitest him ?" I say, let this be done, let the whole scene be brought vividly before the mind, and the sentiment becomes another thing from what it would be without those attending images. It makes an impression. In illustrating, improving, and enforcing truth, images may be brought forward with great effect. How clear is the following thought: "And my hand hath found, as a nest, the riches of the people; And as one gathereth eggs that are left, And there was none that moved the wing, or "It is Images may be arguments. the property of years to give wide and immovable root to all passions. The deeper the bed of the torrent, the more impossible to change its course." And, "When we dip too deep in pleasure, we always stir a sediment that renders the draught unsalutary." The common thought, that God will punish the wicked, becomes forcible under the pen of inspiration. "If I whet my glittering sword, and my hand take hold on judgment, I will render vengeance to mine adversaries, and will reward them that hate me." Truths very abstract may be hunted from their lurking places, and brought to light by comparisons. Some, indeed, may be too recondite for the search, and too dark for the rays of imagination; but such have no place in high emotion. This requires that the words be things, and if they are not they may be reasons, they may be demonstrations; but they are not the constituents of eloquence. Imagination |