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other, a feeling, notion, sentiment, conviction, an act of reason, which they may hang over and doat upon. They rather aim at experiences within them than at Him who is without them. Now men who are acted on by news, good and bad, or sights beautiful or fearful, admire, rejoice, weep, or are pained, but are moved spontaneously, not with a direct consciousness of their emotion. So it is with faith and other christian graces. Bystanders see our minds, but our minds, if healthy, see but the objects which possess them. As God's grace elicits our faith, so his holiness stirs our fear, and his glory kindles our love. Others say often, here is faith, and there is conscientiousness, and there is love; but we can only say, this is God's grace, and that is his holiness, and that is his glory.—Cudworth's' Looking to Christ.'
Enquiries and Correspondence.
ANSWERS TO ENQUIRIES, at p. 284.
10. Resurrection and Immortality. The resurrection of the body and immortality of the soul are not necessarily connected; many having admitted the latter who denied the former. In God's word we are taught to believe both, and this belief is confirmed by natural analogies, and by a consideration of abstract principles; but of neither have we any positive proof apart from the Holy Scriptures. See Butler's Analogy, part I. chap. 1, and Conclusion of part I. for much important matter on the subject.
The natural immortality of the soul was held by many of the ancients. Derived from the gods, the soul inhabited the mortal body, and then returned to its origin,—the good, at once; the bad, after many devious wanderings and painful penances. Cicero very frequently exhibits this doctrine, and evidently regarded it as the probable truth.
The idea of a resurrection was not unknown to the ancients, but it was regarded as an absurdity and an impossibility for the most part. Thus Lucretius says, (lib. i.) “Now if this dust of ours, time should collect after our death, and again restore it to its present constitution, and if again were granted us the light of life,” &c. But Seneca says, (Ep: 36.) “The death which
we fear and avoid intermits, not steals away, our life. The day will come again that shall restore us to the light, though many would avoid it unless it restored them, oblivious of the past." On this Justus Lipsius says, “This is that Pythagorean or Stoical regeneration, when after the solemn conflagration of the globe, another earth and constitution of nature, the same things and the same persons will be restored.” (Ed. 1615, p. 448.) Cicero frequently asserts the natural and necessary mortality of the body: “The soul flies away to the gods to be numbered with their council because it is immortal, and partakes of the divine immortality; but the body by its own nature mortal, remains in the earth, and because it is earthly, by no means can it put off its own nature and put on another.” Let me refer your inquirer to Acts xvii. 32, from which it would appear that of a resurrection of the dead, and a consequently immortal and incorruptible body, the profound investigators of Greece had discovered no proof in nature.
The uncertainty which must ever attach to these two subjects, apart from Divine revelation, fully justifies and enables to appreciate the beautiful language of Paul, who tells that “our Saviour Jesus Christ hath abolished death, and hath brought life and immortality to light through the gospel.” (2 Tim. i. 10.)
I am, Sir, &c., B. H. C.
11. Universal Reconciliation. The principal explanations of the verse referred to by H. S.B. (Colos. i. 20,) especially that part of it which speaks of “reconciling unto himself things in heaven," are the four which follow.
1. In these words are included all the creatures of God, in heaven or on earth, endued with reason or destitute of it; as well as the entire fabric of nature, (see Rom. viii. 19, and Eph. i. 10.) This I regard as far-fetched and unfounded.
2. The same is meant here as in Eph. i. 10, holy angels and holy men. By the things which are in heaven, Calvin and others suppose angels are intended: they are reconciled to Christ not by recovery, for they have not fallen, but by his grace they are confirmed in their present state, and admitted to communion the most close and intimate with himself.
3. “ All the worldGentiles as well as Jews are now vouch
safed by him to be called by his name, i. e. to be Christians, called and received into his family.”—Dr. Hammond.
4. “ Things in heaven," the faithful or elect who were then in heaven.-Scott and others.
This last view, which was held by Beza, and has been advocated by many eminent divines since his day, I am disposed to accept as the correct one. The offering of Christ had a retrospective reference as well as a prospective one, and that, because it was the substance of those “shadowy" sacrifices which the Father presented, to which they all pointed, in which they were all fulfilled, and for the sake of which they were all accepted.
Of the other explanations, I regard the second as the most reasonable, and the first as the least so. But the fourth only fairly meets and answers the question arising from the previous supposed enmity.
I am, Sir,
Yours, &c., B. H. C.
12. Recognition in Heaven. DEAR SIR,—Will you kindly favor me with an answer to the following inquiry-Shall we know each other in heaven ?
I have heard objections made by some, that if we did know each other there, our happiness would be liable to interruption, should we miss any of our beloved relations or friends from the number of the redeemed, but I cannot think so myself. Memory oft loves to dwell on those dear departed ones who have gone before us to those heavenly mansions; and how consoling-how unspeakably delight ful is the thought, that we shall meet again in that world of glory. But should we not know each other when we do meet, would not our most fondly-cherished hopes at once be crushed ? I believe that the presence of Christ will constitute the highest degree of happiness we can possibly enjoy; he will be our all in all, and to see his face, to behold his glory and sing his praises for ever, will be bliss indeed ; a joy greater than any mortal heart can conceive. Still, would it not greatly increase our happiness to know that those most dear to us on earth were uniting with us in singing the praises of the Lamb that was slain. Will not our happiness then be perfect, and it cannot be so if it will admit of increase. Your thoughts on this subject will much oblige,
Yours respectfully, ELIZABETH.
PO E TRY.
WOLVESEY CASTLE-WINCHESTER. This castle was built by Henry de Blois in 1138. It was considered a place of great strength and importance, and withstood several sieges. It is said to have derived its name “Wolvesey,” from the circumstance of three hundred wolves' heads being deposited here annually from the hands of Ludwell, a refractory Welsh prince, at the command of king Edgar.--Vide “Warren's History of Winchester.” The day's last beam was shining through the trees
When first I saw thee, Wolvesey !-all around Was hushed to Sabbath stillness, and the breeze
Laden with perfume from each thymy mound Brought a glad freshness to the wearied brow
As sweet as words of comfort-breathing balm
With power all irresistible yet calm.
Thou seem'st, old Wolvesey, like some ancient one
Whose three-score years and ten are past and gone. Kindness and care may bless man's last dark hour,
Affection guard him with her gentle hand,
To stay his progress to the spirit-land,
The wild clematis clasps each falling stone,
Despoil'd, decayed with all thy glory gone. Oh, not without emotion can we gaze
Upon each grey and moss-grown battlement
Now by Time's hand in many a fissure rent;
Yet mingled with that feeling there should be
Somewhat of glad rejoicing, too, the while. War’s flag is furled, no sword-flash now we see ;
Peace sheds upon the scene her halcyon smile, The mail-clad forms that sentineled the ground
With glancing cuirass and emblazoned vest, Sleep all unheeded ’neath the grassy mound
In the deep stillness of their last long rest;
O'er this retreat and call it all her own;
And art bows low before her living throne.
Pour their rich pæans forth at even-tide
Till sinks day's orb beneath the green hill side. Oh, pleasant here by prostrate shrine and tower. To give the reins to thought, and pass the twilight hour. Winchester.
And shelters him, in nooks of deepest shade,
Are smitten, even the dark sun-loving maize
Faints in the field beneath the torrid blaze;
The bird has sought his tree, the snake his den,
The trout floats dead in the hot stream, and men