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PILGRIM.

If dead in sin, seek Christ; he'll bid thee live.
Ask for forgiveness, and he will forgive.
Pray for his Spirit, and he'll give thee grace
To run with ardour in the heavenly race.

SOJOURNER.

Lord! give me grace, that I may run with joy
The heav'nly race; and my best hours employ
In showing forth thy praise. Great God! forgive
My sins, open mine eyes, and bid me live.

PILGRIM.

Now thou'rt in earnest, God will hear thy prayer;
He, for his dear Son's sake, will lend an ear
To thy petitions: if thou canst believe,
Unnumbered blessings will thy soul receive.
SOJOURNER.

I see! I see! the film falls from mine eyes;
In faith I view my Saviour in the skies:
Thanks, dearest friend, for thy good counsel giv'n
To me, a wand'rer from the way to heav'n.

PILGRIM.

I am thy fellow pilgrim, thank me not;

But thank the Lord, by whom thou art begot:
"Tis he alone has caused thine eyes to see,
And own that thou a pilgrim art, like ine.

SOJOURNER.

But surely thanks are due, since thou hast been
So instrumental in God's hand, to wean
This rebel heart from earth, and fix it where
I fain would be. O! when shall we be there?

PILGRIM.

bours of love, I happened to witness, on entering the town of Malaga in the evening, a custom which struck me as remarkable, and which I had not seen in other lands. On passing the principal promenade in a long walk lined with trees and crowded with persons, just as the glorious luminary was going down, laughter was turned into seriousness, and a complete embargo laid on conversation; for every one person who had a few minntes previously marked the progress of the sunwhether they were pedestrians, on horseback, or carriages-stood still in a moment on its disappearing, and as if by an immediate impulse, or word of command, or as struck by the wand of a magician. In this state they remained a short time, the men uncovered, and females veiling their faces with fans, and a devotional soliloquy was repeated by each, expressive of gratitude for the mercies experienced from the God of heaven during the day. If the sentiments of the heart did at the moment correspond with acts of an external nature, it would lead to the conclusion that the people of this country are highly impressed with the importance of religion.-Travels in Spain, &c.; by W. Rae Wilson, F.S.A.

WISE MEN OF THE EAST.-As far as our real information goes, these wise men appear to have been heathen philosophers. Here, then, we seem to behold a prelude to the calling of the Gentiles into the church of the Redeemer-a token of that mercy whereby Christ has been made a light to lighten the Gentiles, to give knowledge of salvation to people of all regions under heaven. At all events, we may find cause for gratitude and rejoicing if we contemplate the arrival of these magi in Jerusalem as an emblem of that happy and flourishing condition of the Christian church which has been so beautifully described by Isaiah, and will one day, we hope, be realized in all its fullness: "The Gentiles shall come to thy light, and kings to the brightness of thy rising.... Then thou shalt see, and flow together, and thine heart shall fear, and be enlarged; because the abundance of the sea shall be converted unto thee, the forces of

Have patience, friend, our times are in God's hand; the Gentiles shall come unto thee. The multitude of
When he sees fit, he'll issue his command:
The mandate then unerring will be giv'n.
Pilgrim thy time is come-ascend to heaven!
A. M. HOBLYN.

Mylor Vicarage, Sept. 14, 1841.

Miscellaneous.

GARDEN OF EDEN.-Among the remarkable traditions which have been handed down in Damascus, I found one in particular concerning a meadow on the west side of the city. This is divided by a stream, said to be the spot where God made Adam of the earth of the plain; confirmed by the circumstance of its being actually of a reddish colour, and the name of Adam in the Hebrew tongue signifying red. Again, it is supposed that the garden of Eden, where the mysterious scene of our first parents had occurred, must have been also in the vicinity of Damascus, although others fix this to be on the banks of the Euphrates. It must, however, be admitted that the situation of the Damascus plain in so fruitful a locality, and those "trees of fruit in the midst, and watered by a river," "pleasant to the sight."-Rae Wilson's Eastern Researches.

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camels shall cover thee, the dromedaries of Midian and Ephah; all they from Sheba shall come: they shall bring gold and incense; and they shall shew forth the praises of the Lord" (Isa. Ix. 3, 5, 6). May not this passage of the evangelist also give us a call, and encouragement, to send the gospel into the east, the country of the magi? And let the pains which these wise men took in their search for the infant Jesus, admonish us to use all diligence in our endeavours to become acquainted with him and his great salvation. Let us consider, too, how sad is our case, if, while the gospel is brought to our very door, and Jesus Christ is evidently set forth among us, not only as born into the world, but as crucified for us and risen again, we are yet careless and indifferent coucerning his blessed person and most glorious work! The wise men undertook a long journey in order to see the newly-born king of the Jews: 66 O, how will their coming so far as from the east to seek Christ rise up another day in judgment against us, if we refuse to be found by Christ, who came from heaven to save us!" Those who truly desire to know Christ, and to find him, will not regard pains or perils in seeking after him.-The New Testament Family Reader; by the rev. J. E. Riddle.

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THE DANGER AND DUTY OF PRIVATE JUDGMENT.

BY THE REV. T. E. HANKINSON, M.A., Minister of Denmark-hill Chapel, Camberwell.

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No. I.

Ir is a startling exposition of the difference between that which is and that which seems, which is contained in that assertion of scripture, "There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death." There is a way which a man chooses, having made it a matter of deliberation using such powers of judgment as he may possess, or such information as he can acquire, he concludes that the way he has decided upon following is the right way in that conviction he enters upon it; he pursues it; he boldly perseveres, keeping his eye upon some advantage which, by this way, he expects to attain. He arrives at the end and not till he arrives at the end does he discover that he has made a fatal mistake. Death is waiting at the end for his victim: death is the object he has been pursuing a figure decoying him along the false path with the smile of hope, and at the end dropping the mask, and discovering to him the real face of the destroyer. Now, it did not require the wisdom of Solomon to tell us this sad truth, if his proverb only referred to matters of temporal interest. We need no inspired authority to assure us of a fact which is daily passing before our eyes, viz., that many a man, after mature and even anxious deliberation, adopts a course of action which (however well it promises) tends to, and eventually ends in, ruin. It may indeed

VOL. XII.-NO. CCCXXXII.

PRICE lad.

be well to set this truth before rash and inexperienced persons, with a view to make them pause, and examine the real nature of a promising opening, and not embark weighty interests, perhaps the happiness of a life, too hastily upon any way, albeit it seemeth right. But it would be derogatory to the dignity of the scriptures to suppose that the Holy Ghost inspired the text with no further object than to inculcate prudence and foresight in our temporal affairs. That it was a weighty and a momentous truth, we should have a right to conclude, from the circumstance that we find it stamped with the seal of divine inspiration. That its weight and moment exceed even that of some of the truths possessing such authority, is evident from the fact that it is twice announced in the same solemn words. In Prov. xiv. 12, and xvi. 25, the same warning appears, "There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death." We need only give to these words a spiritual sense, and they present us with a truth, the awful import of which, might well justify the emphatic way in which it is repeated.

I propose, on the present occasion, to exhibit the danger and the duty of the exercise of private judgment; and surely if I desired to put the danger in the clearest and strongest possible terms, I could not choose any clearer or stronger than the words already quoted"There is a way which seemeth right unto a man:" The man's object is to attain to heavenly happiness, and for this object he finds several ways proposed to him. Upon these ways he debates, deliberates, and decides: he chooses one "which seemeth right unto him." Those are the expressions used; so simple, as

[London: Joseph Rogerson, 24, Norfolk-street Strand.]

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that, unless justified by faith in Christ and sanctified by the Holy Spirit, we cannot be saved; another, that, without such justification or sanctification, we may be saved by the sovereign mercy of God: one must be right and one must be wrong.

to exclude any other idea than that there is a | and one must be wrong. One man holds real persuasion upon his mind that the way, so chosen, is the right one. And all the sterner and the more striking from its simplicity is the declaration that the possible end of such a way are "the ways of death." Death, taken in its spiritual sense, is eternal perdition: the naked truth thus solemnly laid before us is, that a man may choose a way (whether of thinking or acting) which he believes will lead him to heaven, and find, to his horror and amazement, that it leads him to hell.

Then the question is-What will become of those who are wrong in these matters? And here we come into contact with a certain popular idea, viz., that our views will not hinder our salvation if they be what is called conscientious views. People take this sort of position-"My opinions and religious truths, whether right or wrong, are conscientious views; and God will never condemn me for holding what I conscientiously believe."

Now, let me ask, does scripture authorise such a presumption as this? Supposing, for instance, that justification by faith is a scriptural truth, and that sanctification by the Holy Ghost is a scriptural truth; is there any thing in scripture which warrants me in saying, that, if I conscientiously believe that I am not to be justified by faith, or if I suppose that I am

shall be held guiltless in the sight of God? I affirm that there is not a word in scripture which warrants such a notion: I affirm more, that there is much in scripture which proves such a notion to be false.

Now, does not the admission of such an awful possibility as this cause us to pause trembling upon that act of the mind which, in deciding our present course, decides along with it our future portion? But it may be asked-Are we sure that this is the meaning of the passage? To which it might be sufficient to rejoin-Are you sure that it is not? Because, unless you are, you cannot divest yourself of apprehension. If I were to meet a traveller upon the road, and tell him I thought I overheard some one say that he intended to murder him, the mere sus-not to be sanctified by the Holy Spirit, I picion that death might be before him would at least so far alarm him as to make him take every possible precaution. Were the interpretation then put upon the text rather a surmise than a certainty, it ought to produce, as a practical result, great caution in the choice of our religious way. But there is no such uncertainty: the passage means what I have stated; its meaning is confirmed by other passages of scripture. To know the truth, and to receive the truth is again and again declared to be necessary to salvation. St. Paul (1 Tim. ii. 4) identifies salvation with the knowledge of the truth. Our Lord him-it wise, is it safe in any one to put conscience self declares that to know the only true God is life eternal. He promises spiritual freedom through the knowledge of the truth-"Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." St. Peter states it to be the means of sanctification-"Ye have purified your souls in obeying the truth through the Spirit."

Now it is needless to insist upon the fact that holding the truth cannot consist with holding diverse opinions on the same subject. If one opinion be true, a different one must be wrong. One man holds that we are justified by faith in Christ alone; another, that we are justified by repentance, or amendment, or by the righteousness of other men imputed to us in addition to, or even independently of faith in Christ: one must be right, and one must be wrong. One man holds that we have a natural power to make ourselves holy; another, that we have no such power, but must seek it from the Holy Spirit of God: one must be right,

In the first place, if God has declared (as I have shown he has) that the truth must be the medium of salvation and all that leads to it; that the truth must make us free from the curse of sin; that the truth must be the means of sanctification; that the truth and the knowledge of it is eternal life-if God has declared this, and made no exception to it, is

in the place of truth? We read in scripture, “Other foundation can no man lay save that is laid, which is Christ Jesus." And again, "There is none other name under heaven, given among men, whereby we must be saved." My readers must be aware that many persons are building their hopes upon the foundation of their honest and upright conduct, and attach no essential importance to the name or the person of Jesus: And yet they will tell us that they conscientiously think as they do. If those words of scripture be true, what will their conscientious belief avail them?"

I wish to observe that I am not speaking of those whose abuse of the term conscientious is too flagrant to need my censure. I am quite aware that the word has become so hackneyed in its application to views and transactions, whose dishonesty and baseness it aggravates rather than conceals, as to have lost its purer and more honourable signification in the ears of many, so that, by not a few,

the man who talks about his conscience is on that very ground suspected of hypocrisy. This is not the case to which I am referring; I regard it as settled. My observations point to the case of a deceived conscience rather than to that of a degraded and violated one. I am giving my opinion regarding views that may be called conscientious without hypocrisy; and I state it as my firm and solemn conviction, that the fact of such views being conscientiously formed will not justify them in the sight of God if they oppose some of those cardinal truths, the knowledge and the reception of which God himself has declared necessary to salvation.

them were hypocrites: the way which they severally chose seemed right unto them, and they persevered, in the belief that it was the right way, till, to their horror and amazen.ent, they found that the end thereof were the ways of death. And now, if this awful case is proven, is it not enough to make one tremble, lest the way which seemeth right unto us should turn out to be the way of death? And ought it not to abate the rashness with which some are fond of talking of the exercise of private judgment? We are pained and shocked to hear people speak of private judgment as though it were the ultimate and authoritative tribunal to which truth is to be I must beg myreaders to remark the limita- referred, as though what any one judges tion implied in these last words. I feel that the to be right must be right, at least in his own subject I am speaking on is an awful one. I case. No; what a man judges to be right dread the idea of narrowing the way of life may be wrong; and if wrong must be injumore than God has narrowed it; but still Irious, and may be ruinous. You may tell cannot forget, nor would I suffer others to for- me, as your fellow man, that I have no right get, that "the way is narrow," and therefore to interfere with your private judgment. But "few there be that find it." And of the many I tell you that, before the tribunal of Godwho miss it, no small portion consists of those not by my opinions, or the opinions of any who, under conscientious delusion, do not find man, but by his own immutable and infalliout their mistake till it is too late to repair it. ble truth-the decisions of your private judg "A deceived heart hath turned them aside." ment will be weighed; and woe be to you if And what is the consequence? So that in matters essential to salvation they be found he cannot deliver his soul; in other words, his wanting. I hold the right of private judg soul is lost by reason of his heart being deceived. ment myself, but, if I had not some better And these are, many of them, most respecta- guidance to look to than my own conscience ble, and, in their way of life, estimable per- and reason, I should hold it as the greatest sons-the five virgins waiting, to all appear- curse that ever wore the semblance of a priance, for the coming of their Lord. Those vilege. five virgins intended and expected, no doubt, to be numbered among the bridegroom's true friends and followers. But they were not. And why? Because they were deceived, as many are, under the idea that church-membership and conformity with Christ's people in all matters of appearance, profession, and ceremonial are all that is necessary to salvation. There is a yet harder case than even this, as it seems to us, mentioned in scripture, and that too by our blessed Lord himself: "Many," he says, "will say unto me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name, and in thy name cast out devils, and in thy name done many wonderful things? and then will I profess unto them I never knew you, depart from me, ye that work iniquity." The error here was of a practical kind, those who fell into it were of the number of those who, under the idea of giving glory to the Saviour, overlook the characteristic elements of his salvation, viz., holiness of heart and life. Howsoever, this one thing is clearly evident, that both in this case and that of the virgins the greatest surprise was evinced when the door of heaven was shut against among other sources of information, the important facts obthem.

There is no intimation that either of

Biography.

WILLIAM HALES, D.D., RECTOR OF KILLESANDRA,
COUNTY OF CAVAN

No. I.

THE father of William Hales was a most excellent

clergyman, many years curate and preacher in the cathedral church of Cork. He was born 8th April, A.D., 1747, and his early days were passed under his father's roof. When about nine years of age he visited

his maternal uncle, the rev. James Kingston, prebenddary of Donoughmore, a man of piety and learning, sition, offered to prepare him for college with his own

who conceiving a high idea of his abilities and dispo

son. This being accepted, he became an inmate of his uncle's, with whom he studied some years, and to whom he ever expressed the deepest obligations.

In 1764, Mr. Hales entered Trinity college, Dublin. His tutor, Dr. Forsayth, a man of great talent and warm heart, soon perceived his abilities, and devoted himself to their cultivation. His attention was rewarded. At the quarterly examinations, Hales was always placed at the head of his division.

His progress in classics and mathematics was remarkable, and he obtained a scholarship with high credit.

He was a diligent student during his academical course. His tutor felt so much interested about him,

* The compiler of this memoir feels it right to acknowledge, tained from a memoir of Dr. Hales in the early numbers of the "British Magazine," as well as from other sources.

that he made him reside with him in his own room. This continual intercourse soon ripened into warm affection. The friends of Mr. Hales now perceived the highest advantages and honours of the university lay open to him. A fellowship of Trinity was then, as now, and it is to be hoped ever will be, an office of high distinction. The examination (public) extended over the whole circle of classics and science. Mr. Hales commenced preparation for it while an under-graduate, and continued to distinguish himself until he became B.A., A.D., 1768. A fellowship became vacant. determined to undergo the formidable ordeal. At the close of the examination, which lasted several days, he was declared the successful candidate. He was then in his twenty-second year.

He

Mr. Hales now became a college tutor. His lectures were attended by large classes of students, who came from all parts of the country to enter under his tuition. His appearance was so youthful, that several hesitated to place their sons under his care. His friends advised him to wear a white wig, such as was worn by the clergy and members of the learned professions: this had the desired effect, for it is amazing what a white wig will effect. In 1774, his pupils were nearly twice as numerous as those of any other tutor. His attention was devoted, not only to the temporal, but the eternal interests of those confided to his care: he watched over them with the solicitude of a parent. His pupils were greatly attached to him. He was a great advocate for early rising if he found them late in bed, he used to administer to them a "cold pig," namely, a copious sprinkling of cold water. He gave regular scriptural instructions, and every Sunday evening explained fully the truths and blessings of the gospel. In due time he was ordained deacon and priest.

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In 1778, Mr. Hales published his "Sonorum Doctrina," designed to explain and vindicate Sir Isaac Newton's theory of sounds, and confirm it by the experiments of recent philosophers. This was followed, in 1782, by a dissertation, "De Motibus Planetarum," and in 1784, by "Analysis Equationum;" on the publication of which he was highly complimented by the celebrated La Grange, who wrote to him from Berlin. He was now in the full career of life; his reputation extending daily, and his society cultivated by men of the first distinction. The university, to mark their sense of his high character in a way most gratifying to his feelings, without solicitation or expense, conferred the degree of D.D. on his father.

Dublin was now the resort of numerous nobility and gentry; and at his rooms were often assembled the most remarkable characters in politics and literature. Here, and at his old tutor's, were frequently to be seen the earl of Shannon; Dr. Newcome, bishop of Waterford, afterwards primate; Dr. Woodward, rector of St. Werburgh's, afterwards bishop of Cloyne; and other noblemen and gentlemen of distinction. He was zealous, we have seen, in cultivating religious knowledge in his pupils; but, though well informed on theological subjects, he had not yet had the opportunity of devoting himself much to them. The duties of his office as tutor rendered it incumbent on him, much to his disadvantage, to spend a considerable part of his time in the study of science and of classical literature. His thoughts, it would appear, were more particularly directed to theology whilst hearing the conversation of Dr. Priestly, and other Socinians, while he was at Trinity. Their doubts respecting the doctrines of the church, made him resolve to devote more time to the study of the scriptures: and he frequently used to express with thankfulness the conviction resulting from this determination. The difficulties of sacred chronology peculiarly fixed his attention; and in his endeavours to unravel these he found so much improvement and

interest as induced him to design his work on chronology, which occupied so much of his life. He resigned his fellowship and professorship of oriental languages in 1788; and accepted the rectory of Killesandra, in Cavan, that he might have more leisure for this.

His activity in the sacred office was unwearied; and he joined with this, manners so amiable that he equally pleased the gentry and the lower orders. In summer he entertained the respectable tradesmen of the town on Sunday evenings. With the members of his flock he went to church, while those who were of different religious opinions took a walk; but all returned to tea. He entered a great deal into society of all classes, as desirous of making himself agreeable and useful to the trades-people as the gentry: he would occasionally dine with respectable shopkeepers, and had their sons as pupils. Utterly free from pedantry and from that university rust which often renders an excellent college tutor a most inefficient parochial minister, he would enter with facility on the most trivial matters, and listen with patience to the grievances of others, however tiresome. This proceeded partly from his benevolence, and partly from a wish to create such feelings of good will as would facilitate his religious instruction. His manner of performing the church service was most impressive. A relative of his said, "he read the lessons and church service in a manner which some at least who have heard will never forget. His voice and manner, the justness of his emphasis, resulting from a deep acquaintance with holy writ, and the elevated expression of his fine countenance, were peculiarly striking. I have never heard any one read the communion service like him."

Shortly before accepting the living of Killesandra, a controversy occurred between Dr. Woodward, bishop of Cloyne, and Dr. Butler, titular archbishop, Mr. O'Leary, &c.; in which Dr. Hales distinguished himself by "Observations on the political influence of the doctrine of the Pope's Supremacy," published in 1787 and 1788.

In 1789, when at Cork, he was seized with a violent fever, which for some time interrupted his course of usefulness. His physicians were accused of treating him injudiciously, especially by administering too much laudanum. He returned to Killesandra, against their advice, but he was exceedingly enervated. A deep depression which hung on his spirits was in some degree removed by an excursion to England; but on his return he was utterly unable to resume his literary exertions. This deprivation he bore without complaint. His habitual devotion supported him under what seemed, to him, a loss of his intellectual powers. In 1791 he married Mary, second daughter of archdeacon Whitty, an amiable and religious woman, with whom he lived happily for many years. Some time after his marriage he was relieved in a remarkable manner. Having read of a great author who, in a fever, had taken laudanum, on which fire had flashed from his eyes (which had occurred to himself), and that he had recovered his health by perseverance in great exercise, he determined to try the experiment, and walked every day in his garden with such rapidity and exertion, that he was frequently obliged to change his clothes from heat. One day during his walk, a sudden and great discharge of clear water ran from his nose, and he instantly felt as if a great weight were removed from his brain. He was hardly able to get into the house, where it was some time before he could compose his feelings of joy. From that time he felt his mental faculties almost clearer than ever. He mentioned the circumstance to many physicians, who said that his disorder apparently had been water on the brain, but they had never known a similar instance of recovery. He was now enabled to resume his literary labours. The

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