aspect and the sacred office, but somewhat in the former that suggests the latter.

Similar observations may be made in regard to church architecture. It is certainly desirable that church edifices should have a form and aspect which harmonize with and suggest their divine uses. They should not appear, within or without, like theatres or public saloons. On the other hand, if this ecclesiastical aspect is purchased at the sacrifice of all accommodations for the comfortable and intelligent worship of God, and for the preaching and hearing of his word; if it is obtained by a height of ceilings, a length of audience room, a forest of pillars, stories of arches, and a "dim religious light," which hinder alike the comfortable, intelligent, and edifying conduct of divine service, we say, give us buildings of the most secular appearance in preference, for the use of the people of God in worship and hearing the word. Let us never sacrifice the chief end to a subordinate end. There is, however, no need of either extreme. Churches may be, should be, and often are, so planned with respect to light, form, ornamentation, and needful fixtures, as to serve in the highest degree all the purposes of public prayer and preaching, while they have a decided churchly aspect which separates them heaven-wide from the opera-house, the saloon, or the town-hall, and tends to awake hallowed associations consonant with their sacred uses. This is the normal standard, at which all in charge of such matters should ever aim.

4. These principles serve to illustrate the ordinance of fasting, and to explain, in some degree, its grounds and uses. The same principles apply here as to the sacraments. If it is divinely appointed, and has the promise of God's blessing on its due observance, this is enough, whether we can understand the intrinsic reasons of its utility or not. It must be beneficial to the soul. But, according to the representations of Scripture and the custom of the church, fasting, whether public or private, is connected with occasions demanding special humiliation and penitence, either for personal or social sins. And it is a principal duty in connection with it, to "afflict our souls," in view of our sin. Now, fasting facilitates this inward exercise and discipline through that wondrous implication of the states

of the body with the states of the soul, which we have been considering. We know that it is the instinct of men to manifest and promote good cheer and hilarity, by feasting as its natural expression and symbol. Hence public thanksgiv ings usually associate with themselves bountiful and delicious repasts. The same is true of that day which most of Christendom recognises and celebrates as the joyful anniversary of the Saviour's birth. On the other hand, it is certain that sadness of soul depresses the appetite, and indisposes the subject of it to take food. And reciprocally, abstinence from food, by depressing the vital energies, also dejects the spirit in such mysterious sympathy with them. Thus it is in a better condition to discern, and feel, and bewail the aggravation of sins, whether its own or others, private or public. So they look to Him whom they have pierced, and mourn. But no language can depict this so graphically as has been done by the pen of inspiration. Says the Psalmist, "Fools, because of their transgression, and their iniquities, are afflicted. Their soul abhorreth all manner of meat; and they draw near unto the gates of death. Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he saveth them out of their distresses." Ps. cvii. 17-19. "Therefore also now, saith the Lord, Turn ye even to me with all your heart, and with fasting, and with weeping, and with mourning and rend your heart, and not your garments, and turn unto the Lord your God; for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and repenteth him of the evil. Who knoweth if he will return and repent, and leave a blessing behind him; even a meat-offering and a drink-offering unto the Lord your God?" Joel ii. 12-14.

This great ordinance for spiritual discipline and culture, so signalized in the Old Testament, is recognised and continued in the New. It is not, indeed, commanded to be observed on any certain days. Christ rather left it to the judgment, candour, and fidelity of public authorities, civil and ecclesiastical, and of private persons, to decide when prevailing iniquities, or threatened calamities, or private spiritual declension require their observance. It is unquestionably of great moment to avoid that superstitious reliance on the external observance of fast and feast days which corrupts and enslaves the more prominent

ritualistic churches. But it is no less unquestionable, that the practice of fasting has fallen into an unwholesome desuetude in our evangelical churches, especially as concerns its observance by private Christians. While no laws can be prescribed on this subject, as to times and seasons, the most saintly men have been exceedingly apt to have frequent and regular seasons of religious fasting. There is little doubt of the edifying efficacy of this means of grace, duly employed. And as little doubt that, if we would successfully practice, we must form the habit of it, i. e., acquire aptitude and readiness for it by frequent and somewhat regular repetition. Otherwise the contrary natural habitude will be likely to assert its natural mastery. And hence, in spite of the best resolutions, most Christians gravitate into the ordinary neglect of this important means of spiritual growth, of recovery from lapses, and advancement in holiness.

Indeed, the habitual and punctual performance of many religious acts is to be recommended for the sake of the habits of devotion thus nourished. The security for the daily performance of devotional duties, personal and family; for the weekly performance of duties appropriate to the Sabbath; for the proper attendance on the weekly lecture and prayer-meeting, lies in forming the habit, by the timely and regular attendance on all these services whose times are fixed, and by fixing regular and convenient seasons for those private duties which it is left to us to time, in which they may be regularly performed. In this, that concurrence of the body with the spirit is required, which we have seen is so largely involved in all religious discipline, cultus, and experience. Those habits of the body which lead to the regular outward performance of these services, are of great moment. Many things, says Paley, the shrewdest of utilitarian moralists, are "to be done and abstained from, solely for the sake of habit," and he pronounces it a "rule of considerable importance." This is eminently true of those outward habits, which, indeed, do not constitute religion, but are essential either to its being, or its thrift and vigour. Outward services, of course, do not alone suffice. Mere "bodily exercise profiteth little." "He is not a Jew that is one outwardly" only. Neither can one be an

inward Christian, whose religion does not externalize itself in fit manifestation. Moreover, many inward exercises, for reasons already shown, require a certain bodily coöperation. Good outward habits in regard to religious services are the frame-work in which genuine inward exercises are protected, nourished, supported; without which they fail of due development, and wither, and die. They are the shell which encases and guards the seed, the germ, the interior vital principle. They are not, indeed, that principle, or any substitute for it; but they are essential to its sustenance and growth. Thus, though the form of family prayer, Sabbath observance, and church-going may be maintained, there may be but the "form without the power of godliness." But the power of godliness cannot long survive the loss of these outward forms. Nor will these outward forms be duly and permanently observed, unless they have the support of habit. Men whose habits are wrong in these respects, often make good resolutions. But unless these resolutions are supported by correspondent habits, nothing but the "exceeding greatness of God's power" can prevent their being transient in duration, feeble in authority, and spasmodic in the efforts they incite.

ART. IV.-De Mensch en de Dichter Willem Bilderdijk, eene bijdrage tot de kennis van Zijn Leven, Karakter, en Schriften, door Mr. Is. DA COSTA. Haarlem: A. C. Kruseman. 1859.

THIS work is, we believe, the last that came from the pen of the lamented Da Costa. It bears the impress of his original, peculiar, and highly cultivated mind. Ascribing not only his conversion from Judaism to Christianity, but also his spiritual change to the instrumentality of Bilderdijk; greatly indebted to him for his early intellectual training, and for the development and culture of his own poetic talent; enjoying from his early youth a large share in the affections and confidence of this illustrious man, and admitted to the greatest intimacy

with him; himself a poet of a high order, and familiarly acquainted with the productions of the best poets of ancient and modern times, in the languages in which they were written; a jurist by profession, and distinguished for his literary, scientific, and theological attainments; he was well qualified to appreciate the merits, and to do justice to the memory, of one of the most extraordinary men that have ever appeared in the. world of letters: a man distinguished as a mathematician, geologist, tactician, architect, and painter; eminent as a jurist, philosopher, and historian; and occupying the first rank as a linguist and poet.

Willem Bilderdijk was born in Amsterdam, September 7th, 1756. His father, Isaac Bilderdijk, was a respectable physician of that city. He was a man of medium height, of a vigorous bodily frame, of dark complexion, with dark eyes and heavy eyebrows, and wearing an expression of gravity on his countenance, that partook somewhat of a Spanish character. He was a man of integrity and honour, inflexible, imbued with a martial spirit, and endowed with an indomitable courage. Warmly attached to the house of Orange, firm in his political convictions, vehement in his feelings, and fearless in the expression of them, he gave great offence to the opposite political party, by the severity with which he, both in prose and verse, castigated them for the abuses of power with which they were chargeable. Experiencing, in consequence of the displeasure thus incurred, a diminution of practice, he finally withdrew entirely from the public exercise of his profession. He was honoured by the Princess Regent with a public trust, which he held to old age. Numerous and perplexing as were the duties and cares of his new position, he still kept himself informed of whatever was taking place in the department of medicine, and also devoted a portion of his time to the poetic His political sonnets, but especially his tragedies, gave him a certain degree of celebrity as a poet. He was a good Latin scholar, but was only imperfectly acquainted with the Greek. He does not seem to have possessed, in any high degree, a taste for the beautiful, or to have manifested any special fondness for drawing, painting, and architecture, in which his son became so great a proficient.

muse.