not have acted the part which he is supposed to have declined in this instance will surely be admitted; but what a preposterous illustration is that of matchless condescension, which is placed in a mere abstinence from impiety and rebellion!

From the preliminary remarks we have made, I trust it must be sufficiently evident that this cannot be the illustration which St. Paul designed to furnish of unparalleled lowliness and condescension. It deserves to be remarked, too, that in this sense "the form of God" belongs equally to every person who has possessed miraculous powers to an extent not inferior to those exerted by our Saviour, which, as we learn both from the Acts of the Apostles and from the express language of the Saviour himself, was the case with his apostles. In consequence of those powers, St. Paul was on one occasion made an object of idolatry, which he disclaimed with the utmost vehemence and abhorrence; so far was he from assuming any extraordinary merit on account of declining so impious a distinction. Besides, let me ask, would such a use of the supernatural succours afforded our Saviour as to suffer them to be the occasion of his being worshipped have produced their withdrawment? If they would not, there must be some legitimate ground for his being worshipped inapplicable to every other case. If they would, what is there admirable in his declining to convert them to a purpose which he knew would issue in their extinction? Can the inspired writer be supposed for a moment to introduce, with so much pomp and solemnity, a branch of our Lord's conduct which the smallest portion of prudence sufficiently accounts for?

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"He made himself of no reputation," or, more literally, "he emptied himself," "he divested himself," the writer most unquestionably means, of somewhat which he heretofore possessed. But of what, on the hypothesis of the simple humanity of Christ, did he divest himself? As this clause commences the positive statement of the instances of his humility, preceded by, contrasted with the dignity involved in the attribute of "being in the form of God," it seems necessary to understand it in relation to that prior dignity. But this, on the Socinian hypothesis, is impossible, since they place the form of God in his possession of miraculous energy, of those supernatural powers of which, from the time of his entering on his ministry, he neither divested himself at any time nor suspended the exercise. 'My Father worketh hitherto, and I work;" nor is there the slightest intimation throughout the whole evangelical history, that his humility was rendered conspicuous by his declining the exercise of miraculous powers. Here then the illustration, upon the supposition we are combating, completely fails at the very outset, from the total absence of that bold and striking contrast which the first member of the sentence leads us to expect. The form of God is attributed to him as the basis of a certain elevation, let its precise import be what it may. And when the antithetic form of expression prepares us to expect something opposed to it, our expectation is frustrated, and the form of God is still retained. Did this divesture consist of his descending from a superior station in society? But this he never possessed. His worldly rank

and estimation, humble as it was, was as great in the last as in the first period of his ministry. To decline a possible distinction, and to lay aside a distinction already possessed, are certainly things very distinct; nor is it easy to conjecture why, if the former was intended, the latter is expressed: besides that, admitting such a confusion of language to be possible, the conception conveyed bears no relation to the form of God.

The words of the apostle evidently suppose that our Saviour possessed, in the first instance, some great and extraordinary distinction; that, in the execution of his commission, from motives of pure benevolence, he submitted to a state of great comparative meanness and humiliation. The order of the words, as well as the very species of excellence they are designed to illustrate and enforce, necessitate the placing of the dignified attribute first. But on the hypothesis of the simple humanity of Christ, the real order of things, the actual course of events, is just the reverse. Our Saviour, on that hypothesis, was elevated immensely above his native condition by his delegation as the Messiah, and from a state of extreme obscurity and poverty, he became, in consequence of it, possessed of the form of God. His poverty and meanness compose the first stage of his history; and whatever elevation above his equals he afterward possessed, was purely the effect of his appointment to the office of the Messiah. So that in the office he sustains he exhibits a marvellous instance of incredible elevation from meanness, instead of affording a striking example of voluntary humiliation. On the Socinian hypothesis, the whole of what is truly admirable is, that a mean and obscure individual should have been raised from so much meanness, not that he voluntarily submitted to it. It must be obvious to the thoughtful and intelligent that this hypothesis completely frustrates the design of the passage, and presents the whole matter in an inverted position.

His public undertaking, in the room of affording an unparalleled instance of condescending benevolence, is the greatest example of eminent virtue conducting to illustrious honour the world ever witnessed.

In a complex train of action, involving considerable space of time and a great variety of events, if there be any conspicuous feature insisted on in the character of the agent, it ought to be of such a nature as to pervade the whole mass. The benevolence and condescension of our Lord are uniformly represented by the inspired writer as actuating him in the whole course of his proceedings, as the chief spring of his conduct, so as to characterize his whole undertaking. "Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ," saith St. Paul, "how that though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor, that we through his poverty might become rich." His giving himself for the church is celebrated as a most interesting instance of condescension and love. But if, apart from his public engagements, as the great Teacher sent from God, he possessed no separate nor original dignity,—if to these engagements he is indebted for all that distinguished him above the meanest peasant in Galilee, what candour or sobriety appear in such representations? If we liste to the writers of the New Testa

ment, his undertaking the office he sustained was a proof of matchless humility; if we look to the facts, we find all the honour he ever possessed was the pure result of these offices. That it is possible to combine with such views of his character the admission of an eminent portion of virtue, we are far from denying; but it is not that sort of virtue, nor includes any of that sacrifice of personal honour and interest which such representation supposes.

V.

ON THE SPIRIT AND TENDENCY OF SOCINIANISM.

PSALM XIX. 7.-The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple.

THE minute examination of the minor parts of a great and complex object will not suffice to give us a just conception of it, unless it is joined with an attentive survey of it as a whole. We have hitherto been occupied with the consideration of the errors of the Socinian or Unitarian system in detail. We have endeavoured to evince the opposition of several of its fundamental tenets to the clear, unequivocal testimony of Scripture; and in the course of the inquiry have felt the necessity of descending to minute distinctions and tedious discussions. Could we even suppose the reasoning employed in the several branches of this extensive argument to have wrought all the conviction we could wish, the conclusion might still continue destitute of an adequate impression of the general character and tendency of the system against which these discourses have been directed. Instead of attempting a recapitulation of the topics discussed and the arguments adduced, useless as it would possibly be if slight and general, and insufferably tedious if accurate and extensive, allow me to close these lectures by directing your attention to some of the distinguishing characteristics of the system designated by the appellation of Modern Unitarianism.

I. It will occur to the most superficial observer to remark, that as far as it differs from the orthodox, it is almost entirely a negative system, consisting in a bold denial of nearly all the doctrines which other denominations are wont to regard as the most vital and the most precious. It snatches from us almost every thing to which our affections have been habituated to cling, without presenting them with a `single new object.

It is a cold negation, a system of renunciation and dissent, imparting that feeling of desolation to the heart which is inseparable from the extinction of ancient attachments, teaching us no longer to admire, to adore, to trust, or to love-but with a most impaired and attenuated affection--objects in the contemplation of which we before deemed it

safe, and even obligatory, to lose ourselves in the indulgence of these delightful emotions.

Under the pretence of simplifying Christianity, it obliterates so many of its discoveries, and retrenches so many of its truths,-so little is left to occupy the mind, to fill the imagination, or to touch the heart,—that when the attracting novelty and the heat of disputation are subsided, it speedily consigns its converts to apathy and indifference. He who is wont to expatiate in the wide field of revelation, surrounded by all that can gratify the sight or regale the senses, reposing in its green pastures and beside the still, transparent waters, reflecting the azure of the heavens, the lily of the valley, and the cedar of Lebanon, no sooner approaches the confines of Socinianism, than he enters on a dreary and melancholy waste. Whatever is most sweet and attractive in religion,-whatever of the grandeur that elevates, or the solemnity that awes the mind, is inseparably connected with those truths it is the avowed object of that system to subvert; and since it is not what we deny, but what we believe, that nourishes piety, no wonder it languishes under so meager and scanty a diet. The littleness and poverty of the Socinian system ultimately ensures its neglect, because it makes no provision for that appetite for the immense and magnificent which the contemplation of nature inspires and gratifies, and which even reason itself prompts us to anticipate in a revelation from the Eternal Mind.

By stripping religion of its mysteries, it deprives it of more than half its power. It is an exhausting process, by which it is reduced to its lowest term. It consists in affirming that the writers of the New Testament were not, properly speaking, inspired, nor infallible guides in divine matters; that Jesus Christ did not die for our sins, nor is the proper object of worship, nor even impeccable; that there is not any provision made in the sanctification of the Spirit for the aid of spiritual weakness, or the cure of spiritual maladies; that we have not an intercessor at the right-hand of God; that Christ is not present with his saints, nor his saints, when they quit the body, present with he Lord; that man is not composed of a material and immaterial principle, but consists merely of organized matter, which is totally dissolved at death. To look for elevation of moral sentiment from such a series of pure negations would be "to gather grapes of thorns, and figs of thistles," to extract "sunbeams from cucumbers."

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II. From hence we naturally remark the close affinity between the Jnitarian system and Deism. Aware of the offence which is usually taken at observations of this sort, I would much rather waive them, were the suppression of so important a circumstance compatible with doing justice to the subject. Deism, as distinguished from atheism, embraces almost every thing which the Unitarians profess to believe. The Deist professes to believe in a future state of rewards and punishments,—the Unitarian does no more. The chief difference is, that the Deist derives his conviction on the subject from the principles of natural religion; the Unitarian from the fact of Christ's resurrection. Both arrive at the same point, though they reach it by different routes,

Both maintain the same creed, though on different grounds: so that, allowing the Deist to be fully settled and confirmed in his persuasion of a future world, it is not easy to perceive what advantage the Unitarian possesses over him. If the proofs of a future state upon Christian principles, be acknowledged more clear and convincing than is attainable merely by the light of nature, yet as the operation of opinion is measured by the strength of the persuasion with which it is embraced, and not by the intrinsic force of evidence, the Deist, who cherishes a firm expectation of a life to come, has the same motives for resisting temptation, and patiently continuing in well doing, as the Unitarian. He has learned the same lesson, though under a different master, and is substantially of the same religion.

The points in which they coincide are much more numerous, and more important, than those in which they differ. In their ideas of human nature, as being what it always was, in opposition to the doctrine of the fall; in their rejection of the Trinity, and of all supernat· ural mysteries; in their belief of the intrinsic efficacy of repentance, and the superfluity of an atonement; in their denial of spiritual aids or internal grace; in their notions of the person of Christ; and, finally, in that lofty confidence in the sufficiency of reason as a guide in the affairs of religion, and its authority to reject doctrines on the ground of antecedent improbability;—in all these momentous articles they concur. If the Deist boldly rejects the claims of revelation in toto, the Unitarian, by denying its plenary inspiration, by assuming the fallibility of the apostles, and even of Christ himself, and by resolving its most sublime and mysterious truths into metaphors and allegory, treads close in his steps. It is the same soul which animates the two systems, though residing in different bodies; it is the same metal transfused into distinct moulds.

Though Unitarians repel, with sufficient indignation, the charge of symbolizing with Deists, when advanced by the orthodox, they are so conscious of its truth that they sometimes acknowledge it themselves. In a letter to Mr. Lindsey, Dr. Priestley, speaking of the celebrated Jefferson, President of the United States when he arrived at America, says, "he is generally reported to be an unbeliever;" he adds, "bu if so, you know he cannot be far from us."

(Here introduce the passages from Smith's Testimony, Vol. I.) There was a certain period in my life when I was in habits of considerable intercourse with persons who, to say the least, possessed no belief in Christianity. Of these, it was never my lot to meet with one who did not avow great satisfaction in the progress of Socinianism; they appeared to feel a most cordial sympathy with it, and to view its triumphs as their own. They undoubtedly considered it as the natural opening through which men escape from the restraints of revealed religion; as the high road to that complete emancipation which awaits them in the regions of perfect light and liberty.

Whoever has attentively investigated the spirit of modern infidelity must perceive that its enmity is pointed chiefly to those very doctrines which Unitarians deny; that their dislike is not so much to the grand