them to meet change with firmness, and to repel danger by timely and seasonable concession founded on principle, then, with a renovated constitution and renewed affection, may our country again run the course of usefulness and glory open to her honourable ambition.

In the distress and perplexity that must fall upon the mind that contemplates public affairs, we would hold for ourselves and recommend to others the awful but consolatory admonition of the Jewish prophet-" Who is among you that feareth the Lord, that obeyeth the voice of his servant, that walketh in darkness, and hath no light? let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God. Behold, all ye that kindle a fire, that compass yourselves about with sparks: walk in the light of your fire, and in the sparks that ye have kindled. This shall ye have of mine hand; ye shall lie down in sorrow."-Is. 1. 10, 11.-the only light we see is, we confess, in confidence on the name and fear of the Lord; and fearful of walking in the sparks of our own wisdom or expedients, we gladly trust ourselves to confidence on him. We would fain hope that the Lord has still much business for England, her church, and her people; that while she is scourged and punished, she will be purified and refined, and while we look to the present circumstances as likely to try her faith and visit her backslidings, that she will be preserved for good. We are old enough to remember the effects produced by the revolutionary war; the state of formal and nominal Christianity in which it found both churchmen and dissenters, and the contrast that was furnished by its progress and its close. Mens' minds were compelled, by the awful temporal events that passed before their eyes, to estimate the value of time and the uncertainty of its possessions, and divine grace favoured the growth of serious religion in our land so remarkably, that it seemed like the progress of another reformation. We trust that a similar result is now in process; that the distresses, privations, and sufferings, which may be preparing, will produce similar effects, and making the people of God more earnest and more constant in prayer, will awaken, even among the people of the world, a serious regard to eternity. We have spoken of the Church of England, and we confess that the more we consider its peculiar situation and character, the manner in which it had its origin, the moderation that marked its progress, the vicissitudes to which it was exposed, and the blessings that have recently attended its ministrations, we are convinced it is intended to be the instrument of great good. The spiritual character of its services remove it from any imputation of secularity, while the moderation and scriptural nature of its doctrines, renders it fit to be the centre to which the extremes of both sides will converge when truth is valued higher than system. The dignity connected with its hierarchy, and the means of usefulness offered by its resources, would mark it out as peculiarly fitted for exertion, for commanding and receiving respect, while the learning and ability with which it has been foremost in encountering error, call for the sincere regard of all Christians-without undervaluing other bodies, we venture boldly to assert that there is not any so likely to be extensively beneficial, or able to exert more generally a scriptural influence. If the Church be not wanting to herself, hers will be the honoured office of becoming the efficient herald and agent of providence-the city set on a hill, to which all nations will look and flow, and from which millions will receive the bread of life. But the Church must not be wanting to herself-at present our Zion is sadly dissevered and disunited; the very circumstances from which she draws much of her strength, have proved detrimental to her interests, and secularity and worldly mindedness are, in public opinion, the characteristics, though not of the church, yet of its clergy; while circumstances

connected with the rise and progress of a spirit of vital religion have brought the indifferent and the zealous clergy into collision, and rendered the church the arena for controversial discord. This, joined with the character perhaps forced upon heads of the Church, which, from a commendable fear of novelty, assumes rather the character of a check than a stimulus to zeal, together with the restraints imposed upon that zeal by the form and rules of our Church government, prevent the Establishment from attaining and holding that high rank in the affections of the people that its merits might justly claim, and therefore limit and hem in its usefulness. Too long have the heads of the Church been insensible to these and similar grounds of complaint; too long have they hesitated or opposed the wish for a sober revisal of the practical bearings of the Church, and the limitations to its useful ministration; and while we rejoice that some have at length opened their eyes to the necessity of it, we must lament that the good that could have been effected by an earlier attention has evaded their grasp. It is still in their power to do much, but it must be done cheerfully and effectually, nor will the public be satisfied with less.

The late reign has been remarkable for the revival of a spirit of religion, not only admirable in itself, but extending its usefulness by means of the most prudently organized associations. The importance of social and aggregate co-operation, though the principle had been acted on for a century in the two great Church Societies, had not been sufficiently appreciated; and isolated benevolence had wasted its feelings in ineffectual wishes, or as ineffectual because individual struggles. The power of co-operatiou was projected, tried, and found effective, about the rise of the period alluded to; and the reign of the late sovereign was rendered most illustrious for the rise and growth of the various religious associations of various Christian denominations who seemed to form the representative body of the Christian world. Union to effect a great and holy object was the principle of their existence, and in that union, non-essential differences were forgotten, systematic asperities smoothed down, and those united in the service of God, who had been separated by the inventions of man. Religious charity and mutual forbearance have, we doubt not, been the fruit of these benevolent associations. The extension of the interest felt on such subjects has been another result, and not less beneficial. Religion and its objects began to be looked on as the property of all, not of a privileged caste, and few individuals were too obscure not to take a part, and none not to take an interest, in the progress of religion. Committees and meetings, and the business of religion, introduced every one to the spiritual and life-giving truths connected with its extension, and effected a depth of feeling by co-operation on the subject that was calculated to extend its influence. Mixed up with this, there was much of human frailty and human blindness; the bustle of religion was by many mistaken for its business, and the influence acquired was occasionally misused. With the extension of this interest there was also a sort of revolutionary feeling; the regular pastor was likely to be undervalued, a morbid love of novelty and excitement was generated, and the weak, though perhaps pious mind, or the strong, but irregular one, sought for support or employment in the complacencies and wanderings of heresy. But good has resulted, and by the admixture of the evil we are solemnly warned to use vigilance, and to come for assistance to the throne of grace, in conscious feeling of our own tendency to pollute whatever we engage in.

We would mention another character of the last twenty years, connected with the same subject, which appears to us of great and primary importance, we mean the renewal of a missionary spirit in the church,

and the wonderful extension of the sphere of missionary operations. With the exception of the limited labours of one society, and the Lutheran missionaries of another, the Church and people of England held no part in the work of evangelization, and even these operations, limited as they were, excited no interest whatever in the country. Christian men seemed to be dead to the extension of the Redeemer's kingdom, and contemplated without one uneasy sensation, the millions, and the generations of the millions, of their fellow-creatures, passing in ignorance into eternity. What a contrast is now afforded, when in almost every Christian congregation and every Christian family, a missionary association and missionary feelings exist! exertion at home is associated with the progress of the Gospel abroad, and the true Catholic spirit of our faith, which recognises in every child of Adam a child of corruption and sin, but a fit subject for the preaching of salvation, is, by this means, more universally extended than at any former period. From this sacred feeling of Britain both continents have caught the flame, and America, and France, and Switzerland are now sending out their Missionaries, to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ. We are willing to receive this as a pledge of the gracious designs of Providence towards our country, and that as formerly, when the storm of revolutionary war beat upon Europe, her throne and her altar "stood, and stood among ruins," so, again, the gracious blessing of the Lord will be upon us, and preserve us from the calamities that may spread devastation around. We cannot disguise it from ourselves, the times in which we live tend towards change; the public have become too acute and quicksighted not to discern and condemn all errors in public men; neither Church nor State can escape their vigilance; and it may be well worth inquiring, how far a salutary renovation in each may obstruct revolution, and still more how important it may be for that reformation to commence from within, and not from without, under the careful hands of the heads of our State and Church, rarather than from the bold and mutilating exertions of our radicals and revolu tionists. It is in vain to struggle against the spirit of the age, or to seek to compress by authority, that feeling which recognizes none. It is not by pointing out inaccuracies of detail, or denying irregular control, that the public feeling will be satisfied, but by a recurrence to first principles, an union of zeal and piety wherever it may be found, and by whatever vituperative appellation it may be called. It is thus, and thus only, can the threatened storm be averted, and the usefulness of our establishments be confirmed and extended; and while the people of God keep steadily away from engaging in the busy turmoil of politics, they should make it the subject of their constant and unwearied prayers, that a spirit of wisdom and prudence, and a sound mind, should be poured from on high on our rulers, lay and ecclesiastical, that they may meet with firmness and with mildness the present awful circumstances, and steer the bark of the Constitution, and the still more sacred one of the Church, through the dangers and the storms that seem impending. An interesting subject presents itself here, as to the duty of a Christian man in these times, to which we may perhaps, on a future occasion, solicit our readers' attention. Our diminishing pages call on us to pause, which we do with an unfeigned prayer, that the warnings we have so often received, and the examples we have so often witnessed, may be blessed by the Great Head of the Church, to his own glory, and the spread of that truth in which and by which alone, is salvation:-"though the heathen rage, and the nations imagine a vain thing," he that sitteth in the heavens overruleth all the designs of men to do his own blessed work, to effect his own wise purposes.

RELIGIOUS COMMUNICATIONS.

SERMON BY THE REV, CHARLES WOLFE.

The following unpublished sermon has been received from the same authentic source which supplied us with two others, that appeared in former numbers of the CHRISTIAN EXAMINER.

1 CORINTHIANS VII. 30, 31.

"They that weep, as though they wept not; and they that rejoice as though they rejoiced not, and they that buy as though they possessed not, and they that use this world, as not abusing it; for the fashion of this world passeth away."

There were men in former times, who determined neither to weep nor rejoice during the course of their lives-men, who attempted to keep clear of the world altogether, both of its pleasures and pains. They saw that there was not a single object upon earth, on which they could lay their hands and say, "this is mine for ever." They perceived, that if they heaped up riches, they "could not tell who should gather them;"-that, if they ventured to enjoy any of the pleasures which the world afforded, they must at the same time submit to its pains, its griefs, its cares, and its anxieties; that they could not look for joy, without going more in the way of sorrow, nor indulge a hope, without of course, incurring the danger of disappointment. Then they observed, that the more a man had to love in life, the more he had to fear in death; that if he increased his comforts, it would only more painful to part with them for ever; that for every new tie a man forms with the world, there is a heart-string to be cut at his departure; and that if he entered into friendships and domestic attachments, after all, it would come only to this, that he would have to pronounce a greater number of sad and bitter farewells; and it would be a fresh pang at his dying hour to recollect, that

"Nor wife, nor children, more shall he behold,

Nor friends, nor sacred home.'

There appeared to be a great deal of reason in all this; and, accordingly, these men determined to have little to do with a world so desolate and unsatisfactory, and to stand aloof, at once, from its joys and its sorrows. They blocked up the avenues of pleasure, lest pain should find an entrance. They looked with a cold and sullen indifference upon all around them; and stood, like so many statues, amidst the hurry and bustle of society, and the mingled sounds of mirth and lamentation that arose from their more thoughtless fellow-creatures.

Now let us observe, that these men had never heard of a Redeemer they knew little or nothing of a future state-they had no bright hope of immortality that could lead them to despise the objects by which they were surrounded. They were convinced without this. It was simply because they saw, "that the fashion of this world passeth away." It was not the humble and cheerful resignation of a Chris tian, but a spirit of gloomy discontent. It was no prospect of glory beyond the grave that produced this great effect, but merely this-that come what may hereafter, this world was not worth their regards. Then came the beloved Redeemer-he came to blind and wandering sinners, "that sat in darkness and the shadow of death;" men, that were either weeping and rejoicing, as chance threw it in their way, until the grave should open and swallow them, their joys and their sorrows ;-or men, like

VOL. XI.

B

those we have been describing, who stood at a distance from the world, and pronounced, that weeping and rejoicing were alike in vain. To these men he brought life and immortality to light: he threw open the next world to their view, and showed them" his Father's house, in which there are many mansions;" where there is "fulness of joy, and pleasures for evermore ;" and from which sorrow and mourning flee away; and these he told them he had purchased for them with his blood, to be their everlasting inheritance.

Now, what conclusions would these Christians-the men who embraced these promises, be inclined to draw? Would they not say, "surely, we should have as little to do with the world, its pleasures, and its pains, as these men amongst us, who, without any promise of immortal life, any beloved Redeemer, had yet flung away these things, having found them nothing but vanity." Would it be too much to do that for our Redeemer, which these men did for their own proud and selfish melancholy? Would it be too much to require us to turn our backs upon the world altogether for the sake of an inheritance eternal in the heavens, when these men turned away from it in disgust, with no better reason than because the fashion of these things passeth away? So thought many of the Corinthian Christians whom St. Paul addresses in this Epistle. They began to suspect, that it was not consistent with the exalted sanctity of a Christian's character, of one who had heaven full in view, to form those connections, which give men a greater interest in the world, and bring them in closer contact with its business, its cares, its pleasures, and its misfortunes. They accordingly applied for information to the Apostle, as one whom Christ had appointed to declare his will. In this chapter, he answers them with a kind affectionate regard for their infirmities; he tells them that the Lord lays no heavy burden upon them; that he does not forbid them to use this world, to have some share in its business, its joys, and its sorrows; or to form those connections of wife and family, which may make them take an interest in its concerns; but that "they that weep should be as though they wept not; they that rejoice as though they rejoiced not; and they that buy as though they possessed not; and they that use this world as not abusing it for the fashion of this world passeth away."

Let us then beware! It is no wonder that when the man lifted up his eyes in torments, in the other world, and implored that his pains might be mitigated, he was answered, "Remember, that thou in thy life-time hadst thy good things" remember, that you chose your portion upon earth; you chose it in earthly possessions, earthly pleasures, earthly amusements; and there you have left it behind you. It is no wonder that such was the fate of that man, when, even before the light of revelation, the world was "weighed in the balance" by men who had scarcely any thing to put in the scale against it, and it "was found wanting;" so that they threw it away, with its good and its evil together, as something worthless and contemptible. The good and benevolent Redeemer, at the same time that he purchased heaven for our everlasting abode, has indeed permitted us to 66 use the world as not abusing it:" but it must be "with fear and trembling"-and with the recollection, that it is a world we are to part with for ever. Let us beware then, how we set that uppermost, which God has set undermost; how we venture to move the world out of its place, and make it the chief and leading object of our hopes and fears; how we turn it into an instrument of sin, to minister to our covetousness, our lust, or any sensual passion, or how we allow it to harden our heart against our poor brother, lest the men of former days should rise up in the judgment against this generation and con