phraseology common in that day, he believed that it was the Word of God, and that the people would receive it as such. So also the whole Protestant effort, diversified as it was by the different characters and circumstances of its preachers and its members, rested upon the common foundation, on which all stood, and that was the inspiration, the sanctity, and the sufficiency of the Word of God.

Compare this condition of the Christian mind with any that exists at present. There are doubtless those who insist strongly enough upon the sufficiency of the Bible. But does it not mean with them, only their refusal to submit to the authority of others and their own sufficiency unto themselves? Is it anywhere, a simple, honest, bowing down of a strong mind, in silence and humility, before a book which utters to him a direct message from God? Do not let us obscure the question before us with the other and different question, as to how much of the former reverence was right, and how much of the modern want of it is wrong; that question may be considered by itself. All I am now trying to illustrate, is the recognition of the sanctity and inspiration of the Bible, as forming an essential part of the specific Christian church, according to its own Gospels and early authorities and practice; and the disappearance of this recognition, very great in word and practice, and nearly complete in fact, from existing Christianity. Of this disappearance there can be no other proof, than the massive and enormous evidence derivable from the treatment of the

Bible by nearly all writers, of all sects, under all names and forms. Differing infinitely in the manner of the rejection, or in the avowal, we believe there is an absolute uniformity in the fact; so absolute as to leave no solitary instance of one eminent scholar or preacher who regards the Bible and uses the Bible as did Luther and his cotemporaries.

Now again delaying the question how far the change is for the better and how far it is for the worse, -here is certainly a change, which reaches to the very heart of what was once deemed essential to Christianity. It is a change which consists in the general rejection of the Bible from the place it once occupied ; in the disallowance of a character and a power which the whole Christian world had ascribed to "The Law and the Prophets," and to the words of our Lord and His disciples and their immediate followers as recorded in the Gospels.

This then is what we mean, when we say that the first Christian church has come to an end, as regards the Bible. Not that the Bible is now generally rejected, and disused or scorned; for it is not, and never can be. Some Christian scholars study the Veda, and other heathen scriptures, and readily acknowledge their poetry, the excellence of much of their morals, and sometimes the sublimity of their truths. And they treat our Bible substantially in much the same way; bringing to its criticism and interpretation the same logic, the same learning and industry, and applying them with the same freedom. What we say

is, that the peculiar sanctity and authority which the Christian church from its beginning gave to the Bible, has passed away. Existing Christianity has lost this element.

Upon the next point, the doctrine of another life, we are told that our Saviour Jesus Christ "hath abolished death, and hath brought life and immortality to light through the Gospel"—or through the message of good, which is the meaning of the word Gospel, or evangel. I presume, therefore, that I may be permitted to say, that it was one of the especial and essential purposes of Christianity, to put an end to that fear or notion of death which prevailed before it came, and to place in a clear light the immortality and life which, without the Gospel, are obscured by the darkness of the grave. Moreover, history asserts that this was not only its purpose, but its effect, in the earlier ages of Christianity. To look no farther, the stories of the early martyrdoms prove it. They who went to death, went with rejoicing; went with such unquestioning certainty of life and happiness, that the mere time and manner of the death were of no consequence. So, too, these martyrdoms were great instruments for the conversion of the nations, because those who witnessed them, were struck, above all things, with that positive certainty of a future life, which Christians alone possessed. And all the incidental accounts of the views of death, by

disease or otherwise, and of the habits and feelings of the early Christians in respect of death, amply confirm this notion.

How is it now? It may be difficult to bring precise proof of the present state of the Christian mind in this respect; but, if any one will think how death is treated, by surviving friends, he will not be at much loss to know what is meant by the tears, the affliction, the dark dress, the abstinence from all common pursuits and common enjoyments, and, in a word, by the blackness of despair which rests upon the grave. It is true the survivors will use words of faith, will go in their sufferings to the Gospels and to Christianity for hope, and that the ministers of the Gospel will strive to ́administer comfort, and at the prayer of the funeral will, in one breath thank God, that their brother has escaped from the toil and combat of earth, and rests in the grave in dreamless and undisturbed repose until the last trumpet shall wake him for heaven- and also that he is now with the saved and glorified about the throne, rejoicing in the presence of the Lord, and receiving the rewards of well doing.

I have heard many such prayers, and this was quite frequently their tenor. And when I have pointed out the absolute inconsistency between these views, and the answer is, that some persons believe the one and some the other, my reply is, that I find it difficult to suppose that he who can state both, really believes either.

There are three ways in which anything may be

said. One, in the belief of it; one, to put on the appearance and pretence of belief; and one, to help the utterer to believe what he says. This last is very common. Many a man says with the utmost urgency, what he believes very imperfectly, because he tries by vehement and positive assertion to compel himself to believe. He is only insisting to himself that there is no doubt, that he may thus drive his doubts away.

The critical and inquisitive mind of the present day, which leaves nothing unquestioned, looks sharply into the grave. It will not-perhaps it cannot-believe that anything is, unless it can also believe how it is. I do my best to acquaint myself with various phases of opinion which come up on this subject. If I do not greatly err, they may all be resolved into two classes. One, that concedes the impossibility of belief, but denies the force of disproof, and makes the most that it can, of hope. The other, reasons out from the nature of mind a conclusion of its indestructibility, but believes that personality is extinguished by death, and that the life of the man is re-absorbed into the universal, with no return or continuance of personal conscious individuality.

The difficulty of offering proof as to the general condition of Christian opinion or feeling, has been already adverted to. As a consequence, it would be impossible to say anything about it which would not be denied. But, as the result of the widest acquaintance with, and the most careful consideration of the facts of the case, in my power, I have no hesitation in saying, that I