siderable length, sustaining the commonly received doctrine, and condemning that which had been introduced as novel and unreasonable. This decision of Athanasius, based as it was upon the Scriptures, seems to have virtually settled the question for the next fifteen hundred years. With the exception of a small portion of the Monophysites, and possibly a few others, who were regarded as heretics, the sufferings of the Divine nature were universally discarded, almost to the present time. The question was so entirely and quietly at rest, that theologians did not think it worth while to disturb it. With the exception of bishop Pearson, in his Exposition of the Creed, I do not now remember one, who has entered upon a serious consideration of it in modern times.

Thus the matter rested until the year 1845, when George Griffin Esq. of New York, under the signature of "a Layman," published his treatise on "the Sufferings of Christ," controverting what he acknowledged to be the almost unanimous opinion of the Christian church in all ages, and advocating with much zeal and ability the sufferings of the Divine nature. He has since been followed up by several writers on the same side, in the different Religious Quarterlies of the country.

I make these statements for the purpose of showing to any who may feel disquieted by this discussion, that the responsibility of it does not rest upon the advocates of the commonly received opinions. They did not commence the discussion, nor are they disposed to continue it, any farther than may be necessary for the vindication of what they - and with them nearly the whole Christian church-have ever considered to be the truth.

As to the results of the error which has been so recently advocated among us, a sufficient time has not yet elapsed for these prominently to appear. But if the doctrine is persisted in and prevails, its appropriate fruits will ere long be manifested, and like all the products of delusion and error, they will be bitter.

Among them, I shall expect to witness, in the first place, unworthy and dishonorable views of God. As the doctrine which has been considered is manifestly inconsistent with some of the acknowledged perfections of God, those who hold it will be likely (at least, in their conceptions) to divest him of these perfections. Believing the Deity to have suffered from hunger, thirst, fatigue, fear, temptations, stripes, and other like causes; they will be led to conceive of him as liable to suffer in such ways. And this will be to conceive of him as subject to human limitations and infirmities, if not altogether such an one as themselves. It will be, I am sure, to degrade and dishonor him.

'An able and satisfactory Reply to "a Layman," by Rev. Dr.Tyler of East Windsor, Conn., was published in 1847.

I see not how this result is to be avoided, but by incurring others even more disastrous. Some, to escape the difficulty, may adopt the opinion (indeed, some have adopted and published it already), that in the work of our redemption, the persons of the Trinity, so called, are but acting a part. One of them seems to guard the honors of the law; while another seems to suffer, and to make expiation and intercession; and the third seems to carry on and consummate the work. But it is all an appearance, to which there is no corresponding reality—a moving, affecting tragedy, designed to melt the hard hearts of men, and bring them into a state of reconciliation with God. Now where this scheme is adopted, it will be not only natural but important to represent the second person of the tragic Trinity as suffering and dying in the sinner's stead; because the greater the suffering and the sufferer, the more moving and impressive will be the scene. And the Absolute, the Infinite, is not in the least affected by it. He sits complacent behind the curtain, and sees the moving farce go on, and rejoices in the blessed results of so blessed a contrivance.

Others may think to run clear of difficulties, by adopting pantheistic notions. God is everything, and everything is God. The multiform objects around us in the world, are but so many manifestations of the Supreme. Since God is to be seen flying in the clouds, and roaring in the storm, and crawling in the worm, and singing in the bird of spring, and groaning in all the agonies of a suffering world; why should it be thought incredible that he should himself suffer, in the sufferings of Jesus Christ? How could there have been any suffering in the garden, or on Calvary, in which the Universal Mind did not participate?

I have here hinted at some of the probable, and more than probable results of the error which has been examined, in its bearing upon God. Other effects will be likely to flow from it in other directions.

It can hardly fail to result in erroneous conceptions of the person of Christ. Instead of the good old orthodox statement-"two distinct natures in one person forever," there will be a revival, in some form, of the Monophysite heresies. The two natures will be regarded as so commingled and incorporated, as to constitute, in fact, but one nature. Christ, we hear it said already, is to be conceived of as a whole, a unit, so that what he thinks, or feels, or says, or does, or suffers in one nature, he suffers in his whole nature. There are no such distinctions between the Divine nature and the human, as theologians have insisted on.

I only add, that the views I have controverted, should they exten sively prevail, will be likely to drive many into simple Unitarianism. The doctrine of a suffering Deity, of a crucified God, is too revolting to obtain currency with thinking minds; and if this shall come to be

insisted on as essential to orthodoxy, not a few will renounce it altogether. The Christ who died for us, they will say, was a man like ourselves, and his death had no more atoning efficacy than that of any other martyr.

It was undoubtedly the design of those who originated this discussion to magnify the atonement, and exalt the grace of God in our redemption. What more likely to have this effect, than to represent God himself as suffering, bleeding, dying for us? But there is reason to fear that the doctrine, if persisted in, will have, with many, directly the opposite effect. It will lead them to reject the atonement altogether, and trust to the work of their own hands for salvation.

It is always safe to follow the Bible, honestly, faithfully, reasonably interpreted; but specious theories and startling novelties are to be suspected and avoided.

ARTICLE II.

THE ANCIENT POETS AND POETRY OF WALES.

By Edward D. Morris, New Haven, Conn.

THE ancient literature of Wales has for a long period been concealed, almost entirely, from the view of men of learning. It would be difficult to find, in the whole range of literary history, so signal an instance of remarkable intellectual treasures, neglected and apparently forgotten. A silence as profound as that which brooded for ages over the buried cities of central Italy, seems to have rested upon these last and only relics of a once great and flourishing people. Time, which has done so much elsewhere to bring the rich Past into light, has only added to that obscurity which has so long enshrouded them. While toil and effort have been lavishly expended in surveying and examining almost every other field of literary or scientific study, the mountain fastnesses of Wales, rich in mental as in natural resources, have been wholly unexplored.

The country within whose borders this intellectual mine is hidden, has for three centuries past figured but slightly in the history of Britain; and is now scarcely known except as a retired province of comparatively little value or importance. From the time of the first assault made by Saxon power upon the liberties of the Welsh nation, to that in which they were finally annexed to the British empire- a period of

nearly seven centuries -the entire principality was a scene of the most terrible confusion and lawlessness. The daring chieftains who inhabited those portions bordering on England, secured both by the inaccessible nature of their mountain homes and by the unflinching loyalty of their vassals, carried on a ceaseless war against the English forces a war stained, on both sides, by all the brutality and recklessness of that semi-barbarous age. The merciless conflicts of Edward I. of England with the last Llewelyn evince, in a most striking manner, the spirit which actuated both parties during the entire contest. The passage, in 1535, of the celebrated Act of Union, which put an end to this protracted struggle, and secured to the Welsh those privileges for which they had been contending, led both nations into more close and amiable intercourse; and was shortly followed by a gradual and finally intimate connection and commingling of interests and sympathies. Since that memorable period, the inhabitants of Wales have been swept onward in the current of English affairs, losing by degrees their national peculiarities, and gradually blending their private interests with those of their Saxon neighbors, till they are now nearly lost in the overshadowing importance of English interests and English feelings.

These general causes have operated with peculiar effect upon the language and literature of Wales. English laws and English courts of justice have been established throughout the principality. The language of the common schools and of instruction generally, as well as that of nearly all the transactions of commerce and exchange, is the modern Anglo-Saxon. The original language of the people, on the other hand, is retained for the most part only in their private intercourse, in the pulpit, and in a large proportion of their weekly and monthly publications. It is a general law that wherever two nations come into close and lasting contact with each other, whether that contact be peaceable or hostile, the less must ultimately fall and fade away before the greater. In strict accordance with this law has been the result of the intimate connection which the inhabitants of Wales have been compelled by their extensive commercial and mining operations, by the introduction and establishment of the Episcopal church, and by the constant influx of English interests and English customs, to maintain with their more enterprizing neighbors. They have been unable to keep pace with the advance of science and of many kinds of learning; and in this particular are falling, year by year, slowly but steadily and surely, behind other nations who are more enlightened and less burdened by oppressive legislation. Comparatively uneducated, they are also without the power of educating themselves in any other way than by abandoning their native language, and employing in its stead the vastly greater resources

of the Anglo-Saxon tongue. To this point very many of their efforts in behalf of education have, of late years, been directed; and with great promise of success. 1

As a natural consequence, however, of this condition of affairs, the ancient literature of Wales has been rapidly passing out of notice. This literature, extending from the sixth to the sixteenth century, and comprising a large variety of published and manuscript volumes, consists almost entirely of poetry. The many intricacies of the language and of the peculiar metrical system according to which most of it is written, prove an effectual barrier to its extensive study among the mass of the community. The language of poetry is always more or less distinct from that of common life, and consequently more or less above the apprehension of the common people. But if there be added to this great source of difficulty, the numberless modifications to which, in a long course of ages, every language is liable, this barrier becomes almost insurmountable. More especially is this the case where the stern and resistless wants of daily life are incessantly driving the people to the more practical studies and pursuits of modern times.

Within the past half century, however, great efforts have been made to disentomb these buried treasures. Most of these efforts have been made by private individuals, who have nobly given themselves to this great work. They have been mostly men of cultivated minds, led on by a feeling of patriotism on the one hand, and on the other by an ardent love for the rich field of study which has opened before them. They have been aided in these laudable efforts by national associations, existing in various portions of the principality, and formed mainly for the purpose of carrying on this important enterprize. Through the unwearied exertion of these combined agencies, a considerable number of volumes, containing the most valuable writings of nearly all the earlier poets, accompanied by translations, and also a complete and definite view of the peculiar system of Bardism, which has existed among the Welsh from the earliest ages to the present day, has been published and circulated both at home and abroad. These volumes, written partly in Welsh and partly in English, have won the attention of many throughout England, France, and Germany; and have thrown around the language and the system they disclose, a strong and constantly increasing interest. In a few of the English universities, the language of Wales has become to some extent a branch of scientific study; and the notice which it has attracted in a philological point of view, has served greatly

1 Reports of the Commissioners of Inquiry into the State of Education in Wales, appointed by the Committee of Council on Education. 1847.