dwelt among us?" Is it " fitting to God," the great God, to have been born in a manger, and wrapped in its straw? Is it "fitting to God," the architect of the universe, to have been a laborious journeyman in the workshop of Joseph? Is it "fitting to God," accustomed to the ministration of angels, to have washed the feet of his betraying and deserting disciples? Is it "fitting to God," the object of heaven's hallelujahs, to have submitted in meekness to the scoffings, and scourgings, and spittings of the blaspheming mob? When you have responded to all these interrogatories, you may be the better able to appreciate the soundness of your favourite dogma, that it is not "fitting to God" to suffer.

Fourthly. The prevalent theory tends to lower the eye of devotion from the Godhead of Christ to his manhood. To worship the created humanity of Mary's son alone, would be idolatrous worship. To love the glorified man more than the indwelling God, would be impiously loving the creature more than the Creator. We should love the whole united being of Christ. We should love the finite much; the infinite unspeakably more. The instinct of our nature leads us to regard, with peculiar favour, him who has bestowed on us signal benefits, especially if the tomb has closed over our benefactor. Affection preserves in fond remem

brance the gift of a departed friend. A grateful country bedews, with overflowing tears, the grave of the patriot who has suffered and died for its sake. And if we are taught to consider the pathetic story of Christ's agonies and death as but the biography of the human son of the Virgin, and to regard the indwelling God, through all his incarnation, as standing aloof from pains, wrapped in the mantle of impassibility, our warm affections may be drawn too much from the impassible God, and placed too fondly on the suffering man. In blotting out from the scriptural picture the soulabsorbing and soul-expanding agonies of the incarnate Deity, and fixing the mental vision on the suffering manhood of Christ, the prevalent theory gives the human figure too attractive a place on the canvass. It tends to impair the spirituality and sublimity of worship, and to sink devotion, as it were, from heaven down to earth.

Fifthly. The prevalent theory unwittingly strengthens the Unitarian error. The startling syllogism of Arius stood thus: The divine essence is impassible: Christ suffered in both his celestial and human natures; therefore, his celestial nature was not divine. Had the Council of Nice made but a single thrust at the major proposition of this syllogism, the heresy of Arius would scarcely have outlived its author. But, unfortunately, the faC c

thers of the Nicene Council assented to its major proposition; they conceded the hypothesis of God's impassibility. They had then nothing left but to declare against its minor proposition-the suffering of Christ in his united natures—a dubious war. Modern Unitarianism, except in its very lowest grade, rests on the same identical syllogism.

We regard the Unitarian heresy as the most formidable foe of our holy religion. The polar region of wintry Atheism is bound in its own eternal frosts. Professed Infidelity can never be perennial where the warm pulsations of the human heart are felt. The creative spirit of a Hume or a Gibbon may, ever and anon, breathe into it the breath of precarious life; but, whenever the strong stimulant of sustaining genius is withdrawn, it sinks down, like Thomas Paine, a lifeless, offensive, and forgotten corse. But Unitarianism, decked in the beautiful habiliments of the social virtues, is a brilliant and dangerous meteor. Under its ever-changing phases and varying names it has, like a portentous comet, threatened the system of Christian faith for more than fifteen centuries.

The inquirer after truth, while dwelling on the atonement of the prevalent theory, finds that the view of its creature sufferings leaves an aching

void in his heart. This unsatisfied vacuity ever invites the intrusion of seductive, and often fatal errors. If Christendom would extirpate the Unitarian heresy, let a concentrated blow be aimed at the major proposition of its upholding syllogism. Wrest from it its earth-woven mantle of the divine impassibility. Strip it of its armour of proof. That Christ suffered in his united natures is a position deeply bedded in the everlasting truth of sacred writ. The hypothesis of God's impassibility has no foundation in his holy word. Divine impassibility is the chief corner-stone of the Unitarian faith. Remove that corner-stone, and the whole structure will totter to its foundation.

CHAPTER XXI.

Practical Effects of Doctrine of Divinity of Christ's SufferingsDeepens Views of Sin-Exalts Justice of God-His Love-Magnifies Value of Soul-Affords sure Foundation of Christian Confidence-Elevates Views of Atonement.

WE shall doubtless be accused of attempting to disturb one of the ancient landmarks of Christian faith. That this attempt is not a wanton innovation, may have appeared from the preceding pages. Yet farther to vindicate and illustrate our discussion, it will be useful, at the hazard of some seeming, though not real repetition, to state succinctly the respective and opposing bearings of the prevalent theory, and of that which we advocate, upon some of the cardinal points of our holy religion. It will thence become manifest that our views are as salutary in practice as they are well-founded in scriptural authority.

First. The development of the stupendous truth that the eternal Son, "manifest in the flesh," suffered and died, in his own ethereal essence, for the redemption of the world, unfolds to our apprehension new and more appalling exhibitions of the potency and turpitude of sin than are presented by the prevalent theory. If we have confidence