THE HARBINGER. FEBRUARY, 1852. THE CHURCH. A FEW years ago a voice was heard in high places," Hear the Church." That voice gave utterance to a spirit anxious to take every advantage of rivetting afresh the iron on the soul, which had happily, to a great extent, been removed from it by the Reformation. We hold no sympathy with the friends of mental slavery and priestly tyranny,—with men who first teach that their order is the Church, and then, magnifying their office, exalt the claims of church authority. If, therefore, the demand is the prostration, not only of personal judgment, but also of the word of God itself, to the decision of men of like passions with ourselves, we must resist it, and are bound still to hear what God says, and not regard the dictates of ecclesiastics,-men who officiate at the altar of churchdom. We have in 1 Cor. i. 2, an instructive view of the Christian Church. "Sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, with all that in every place call upon the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord, both theirs and ours." The members of this community may be divided into different denominational groups, as well as distributed over various countries; but, if saints and worshippers of the Son of God, they have a common interest in him. They may be governed by Bishops or Presbyters, or by their respective communities; they still are parts of the general assembly and church of the First Born, whose names are written in heaven. There is something delightful in contemplating this body of Christ, consisting of many members, of which he is the head, and which is actuated by one spirit, and by unity of soul; and the grace and figure of this body would be destroyed if the whole were one member, and its mutual dependence annihilated, if one part could say to the other, "There is no need of thee." The limbs indeed must be homogeneous, and D not like the visionary monster in Daniel, formed of different materials; yet they will assume shapes, adapted to the offices which they are destined to hold. There should, however, with all this variety, be unity of spirit, and this should be so powerful in its concentrating influence,, as to begirt all with the bonds of peace and affection. Is this the case? does one holy sympathy pervade and affect the whole? Is there no schism in the body? Alas! the answer is as clear as it is painful; the Church is out of tune, and a suicidal attack is made by one on the welfare, if not on the existence, of the other. The Church may exhibit her injuries to the world, and say, "these are the wounds I received in the house of my friends." Ephraim envies Judah, and Judah vexes Ephraim. The writer of these pages is not of their number who travel from Dan to Beersheba, and see nothing but sterility and unloveliness; he rejoices in the scenes which constantly present themselves, and call for admiration of the grace of God in them. But it is impossible for any Christian eye not to detect much that gives pain, and which prompts a desire for a more even and successful state of hallowed cultivation. There is error somewhere, and perhaps the assertion will not be too sweeping, that there is a degree of error, more or less, in all who profess and call themselves Christians. No one field is perfect and free from weeds, and the lines of demarcation, like rank and overgrown hedges, impoverishing the soil, throw out a chilling shadow, and furnish a harbour for destructive insects and reptiles. A sober and candid survey of the state of the Church, at the present time, and especially in our own country, free from party spirit, "without partiality and without hypocrisy," would, with the divine blessing, tend to mortify denominational vanity, to humble us in the presence of God, and induce us to seek, to the extent of our power, improvement, and that state of things which Isaiah foretold: "Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, and instead of the briar shall come up the myrtle tree and it shall be to the Lord for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off." The most likely way to secure this desirable consummation would be for the leading men to exert an influence in their respective denominations; not so much in attempting to convict and refute opponents, as in endeavours to effect that kind of improvement in their own party which will qualify it for a more cordial and efficient union with all that love the Lord Jesus in sincerity. Like the parts of the temple, prepared beforehand, various sections would fit each other, and the whole would grow into a holy and beautiful structure, without the noise of axes and hammers. It may, however, lead to this effort to take a more general view of the various sections of the Church, and the temper which seems Without presuming that the most to prevail in their respective communities. following remarks will be even noticed beyond a limited circle of readers, the writer is not destitute of hope, that some few may be stirred up to lament over the imperfections and sins of Zion, and to see the advantages of love and cooperation, of unity and spirituality, among Christians; and to address themselves with earnestness to all the duties which are connected with the blessing pronounced on the peace makers, by Him who loved us, and who came into the world to enrich it with peace and good will. In behalf of such, the author would devoutly say:-May the exhortations and prayers of the Apostle be obeyed and answered, recorded in Rom. xv. 1-7. and may the world be constrained to exclaim: "See how these Christians love one another!" BIOGRAPHICAL PORTRAITS OF THE PROTESTANT REFORMERS. No. II. LUTHER, Abridged from a Lecture at Liverpool, by the Rev. C. M. Birrell. In the year of our Lord 1483, Martin Luther was born at Mansfeldt, a small village in one of the forests of Germany. John Luther, his father, at the time of his son's birth, was in extreme poverty; he was ignorant even of a trade, and procured a precarious livelihood by cutting wood; though, afterwards becoming a labourer at some iron mines, his circumstances improved. Though poor, however, he was an intelligent man; he could read, and knew the value of books. He, therefore, took care that his son should obtain the rudiments of knowledge, and acquire an intellectual taste. His evenings were not spent in idleness, but in reading and instructive conversation; which, it seems, the schoolmaster and the priest of the village were invited to join, in consequence of their superior intelligence -a very good model for a workingman's home. This intelligent labourer, observing signs of talent in his son Martin, (so called because he was born on St. Martin's Eve,) sent him to a celebrated school when he was about fourteen years of age. There he suffered incredible hardships, partly on account of his extreme poverty, and partly because of the excessive severity of his master. After a time he was sent to college, and there a circumstance occurred which still more distinctly pointed to the future. He was very fond of reading, and was constantly in the library. One day he took a book from the shelves that he had never seen before. It was a bible in the Latin tongue. He read it with astonishment; in that bible was found the germ of the Reformation. The truth penetrated the soul of Luther, and awoke in him the deepest anxiety. Two circumstances occurring at the same time tended to increase his anxiety. He was told one day, that an intimate friend of his had been assassinated. "What!" he exclaimed, "if I had been the victim?" On another occasion, while walking in the fields, a dreadful thunder storm took place, and a thunderbolt struck into the earth at his feet. He fell down on the spot upon his knees, and prayed for mercy. One day he suddenly disappeared from the company of his friends, went and knocked at the door of a Convent, where he was instantly received, and shut out, as he believed, from the world for ever. He began a life at once of bitter self-denial; he sought to crucify the flesh by fasting and laceration. Imprisoned in his cell, he contended mightily against the evil thoughts and evil propensities of his nature; but, though not different from our own, it was too strong for him. The natural mind is not to be improved, but changed in its first principles. That truth dawned upon Luther. "The monks," said he, "desired me to do works to satisfy the divine justice; but how, thought 1, can such a heart as mine produce such works? I saw that it was impossible to appease Heaven by my own merits." Luther continued the contest; he deepened his pain aud his anguish. For seven weeks at one time sleep fled from his eyelids; at another time, not having appeared for several days and nights together, his cell was entered, and he was found lying on the floor without signs of life. The vicar-general of the Convent was a man of piety. On one of his visitations he observed the wasted monk; he pitied him, and asked him the matter. The answer of Luther immediately revealed his real state. martyr; cast thyself into his arms." "How dare I," said Luther. "believe in the favour of God, when I have no signs of conversion? I must be changed before I can believe in him.” "No repentance," said the vicar, "is true, but that which springs from a perception of the love of God. If thou desirest true conversion, begin by loving God, because he first loved thee." "These words," said Luther, "stuck fast in me, like the sharp arrow of a mighty man." It was the entrance of a new idea, and that the greatest and the mightiest with which the human mind can be filled. It did not immediately banish doubt, but it introduced a new era in the life of the man. It was not in his nature to dissemble; he began to speak to others what he felt. The monks per. ceiving his earnestness and knowing his talents (but not knowing what was to follow) promoted him to the pulpit. His bold oratory in the churches of Wittemberg was as life from the dead. He spoke with an earnestness of spirit, corresponding with the tremendous conflict through which he had fought his way; and the doctrine of the cross of Christ, coming with all the force of a new discovery, and wielded by the power of the Holy Ghost, laid thousands prostrate beneath its power. Seven Convents of his order having quarrelled with their vicar, he was chosen to represent them in the Holy City. He set out with his soul full of reverence, and prepared to reap the strongest confirmation to his faith. A severe sickness, which befel him soon after descending the Alps, led him to search afresh for the foundation of his hope as a sinner, and sent hiro forward on the last stage of his journey with double solemnity. The things without were strangely out of harmony with the emotions within. He performed mass in his serious and deliberate manner; seven had been got through before he had finished one. "Get on!" the priests cried, using an argument the profanity of which being equalled only by the profanity of transubstantiation itself, I will not repeat; but it staggered the poor Saxon. His business leading him into the society of the prelates, "Surely," said he, "they will be better than the common priests." They were greatly worse. They boasted of their infidelity: and to amuse their guest, told him how they parodied the words of the mass, and bamboozled the congregations. But Luther's heart was heavy, perplexed, bewildered. "Can it be true?" said he to himself, "must I credit my senses?" The fascination which had held him captive was vanishing like a mist; and, in proportion as it cleared away, left the grand truth on which he rested his personal salvation more distinctly defined. One of his last concessions was to seek an indulgence by crawling on his hands and knees up Pilate's Stairs. The manliness as well as the piety of his soul shrunk from the act. The words which had illumined him before seemed now as if thundered in his ears: "The just shall live by faith." Horrified with himself, he rose and fled. He returned to Wittemberg a different man. "I would not take a hundred thousand florins," said he, "not to have seen Rome !" That which took place in the breast of Luther, and from him extended to one man after another until it filled cities, and states, and kingdoms,that was the true interior history of the Reformation. At the period of which we write, Leo the Tenth was greatly in need of money. He had to fill the purse of gold which he daily threw to the people; he had to maintain the licentious assemblies of the Vatican; he had to meet the cost of his taste for literature and the arts; and, therefore, he resolved to set on foot a sale of indulgences amongst the German people. The Dominican friars, on condition of obtaining a share in the spoil, undertook to arouse them. They entrusted the work to a person who proved exceedingly fit for it, of the name of Tetzel, who, with an immense procession went round the country. Crowds listened to his sermons, and poured in their money with tears of earnestness. Luther, though still holding the authority of the church, felt his soul rise against such manifest delusion. He kept silence, however, until he found that many of the persons who had been awakened by his sermons were led away by the stream. He could not stand that. He could bear a large amount of ceremonial observances, in compliance with the injunctions of the church; but when she went against the doctrine of salvation in Christ, he broke the silence and resolved to act. On a given day-a very important and noted day, when thousands of people from all parts of Germany were assembled in Wittemberg-Luther went up to the chief church, and fixed upon it ninety-five sentences or assertions, against the doctrine of indulgences. That was the first public step of the German Reformation. These ninety-five sentences contained a distinct announcement of the great doctrine of salvation through Christ. They excited great attention. Before a month had elapsed, they |