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the case to assume that God sent Christ.

It is Christ

who does the work, and him, therefore, we love. To whom would such an argument ever occur but to a Calvinist ? He illustrates this by supposing a captain to order one to go to the relief of a shipwrecked crew. Though the messenger may speak of the mercy and tender-heartedness of the captain, if he be himself a man of compassion and does what he can to alleviate their distress, takes no thought for himself, but is anxious for their comfort, they will love him instead of the captain. This is no doubt true; but what then? Why, says the author, if Christ be not God, then shall we not love God but Christ. What is the foundation of our love to God? Is it for what Christ has done and for this alone? Here is a fallacy, which the author, who we understand is a lawyer, would very readily discover in a legal argument. Jesus came into the world not merely to attract love towards himself as the Saviour, but to induce men to love God by showing his paternal character. There are other reasons for loving God, than such as the author recognizes. The basis of our love to God, in his view, seems to be our salvation from impending eternal misery. He says, and truly, that we cannot command the affections to love and be obeyed, unless there be shown to them an object of lovable qualities. Let this be borne in mind in considering the foundation of love to God, and there need be no fears that Jesus will divert from God any love to himself. By showing the lovable qualities of God, by revealing his paternal character, Jesus turns our thoughts and affections to the Father.

There is another very singular position which he attempts to defend, founded, we presume, on the importance which he feels of offsetting some of the absurdities of the doctrine of the trinity, which is this, that we cannot love God for what he does, unless he practise self-denial. This he illustrates thus:


Suppose an individual is confined under condemnation of the law, and the governor in the exercise of his power pardons him. This act of clemency would produce upon the heart of the criminal no particular effect either to make him grateful or to make him better. He might perhaps be sensible of a complacent feeling for the release granted; but so long as he knew that his release cost

the governor nothing but a volition of his will, there would be no basis in the prisoner's mind for gratitude and love. The liberated man would feel more gratitude to one of his friends who had labored to get petitions before the governor for his release, than to the ernor who had released him."


In this extract the governor is supposed to represent God. Now we would like to ask the author whether he considers this a fair representation of the relation which God sustains to his creatures? Is there no tender feeling towards us? When God pardons our sins, is it only a "volition of the will?" Are we forced to adopt this alternative, or to accept his position that God practises self-denial? It cannot be. We love God because he first loved us, and has manifested his love each day of our lives.

In his chapter on "faith, as the exercise through which truth reaches and affects the soul," he considers the importance of belief in its effect upon the character and life. This generalization is too hasty, and his reasoning incomplete. He is controverting the remark often made, that it makes no difference what a man believes if he be sincere. He shows that in respect to business affairs, it does make a difference, and the sincerity of the belief may make the difference the greater. Thus it makes a good deal of difference whether we believe a man to be honest, with whom we have business relations. If he be a knave, and we think him honest, he may defraud us, and the sincerity of our belief in his honesty may make the result more certain. In this illustration he has stated a fact which we presume no one will be disposed to question. And yet does not every reader feel as though it were hardly a fair illustration, to be used in an argument against the dangers of mistake in matters of belief. In this case, the man is no worse as a man on account of his mistake. It has not affected his moral character. There may be cases where the character is unfavorably affected by the belief. We have seen that this was the case in the days of idolatry. This is not, however, what the author means. He has brought forward the illustration referred to, and others, in order to show the necessity of right views in respect to the doctrines of Christianity. He founds his argument on the practical effects produced. If a case can be found

where there are no practical effects, we presume he would not insist upon the absolute necessity of right notions. The doctrine of the Trinity is one the belief or disbelief of which does nothing to change the life. A Trinitarian is no better for his belief than a Unitarian for his. We have yet to learn that this belief ever affected the heart to produce purification, or ever helped one in the work of consecration to the service of God. We are willing to accept this test and to try the truthfulness of the various forms of doctrinal belief by the effect produced. We accept his statement which he calls especial attention to:

"That doctrine which rectifies the conscience, purifies the heart, and produces love to God and men, is necessarily true, because, as it has been demonstrated that righteousness and benevolence is the greatest good of the soul, and likewise that the greatest good must depend on the belief of truth, therefore the conclusion is inevitable, that that doctrine, which being believed destroys sin in the heart and life of man, and produces righteousness and holiness, is the truth of God.. If it destroys sin wherever it takes effect by faith, and makes happiness grow out of right living and right loving, from the constitution-from the character of God-from the nature of man, that doctrine is the truth of God."

A. A.


Literary Notices.

1. Pictures of Europe, framed in Ideas. By C. A. Bartol. "What thy soul holds dear, imagine it

To lie that way thou go'st."-SHAKSPEARE. Boston: Crosby, Nichols & Co. 1855. 12mo. pp. 407.

WE always read every publication that bears Mr. Bartol's name. Whatever the title or the topic may be, however unpromising it may look, or foreign from the stirring interests that engage immediate attention,we are always sure of finding rich results of meditative thought, imagery, and illustration that flow aptly and gor

geously from a most fertile and flexile imagination, and, pervading all, a spirit of reverence, a delicate and genial sentiment, and a sunny charity, which show the author to be more distinctively a Christian, than a thinker or a poet. There are some writers whose genius bears the same relations to their subjects, that the setting sunlight does to the clouds. However meagre and thin the staple of the topic may be, they can flush it with the most brilliant hues, and make it wear the spiritual draperies of their own pure fancy and feeling, so that we shall be elevated and charmed as much by the glory that comes from them, as if it belonged inherently to the subjects with which they deal.

Of course, therefore, the title of the book which Mr. Bartol has just issued, must awaken the richest expectations in those that know his powers, since it is impossible to imagine a field in which they could find such various and tempting opportunities for exercise. It is great praise to say of this volume that it is original. Out of the crowds of narratives and journals for which the increased foreign travel is responsible, there is very seldom one that is marked by any freshness of perception, vigor of thought, or vividness of delineation. Almost always the bond between chapters is that of the railroad, or the river-boat, that connects different cities and scenes. There is no artistic unity and chronology in which the methods of travel and the superficial order of sight-seeing are forgotten or subordinated to give us the deepest impressions, the comparative estimates, and the results upon the mind, the taste, and the heart, which the grandest scenery, the art and civilization of Europe have contributed to one's life.

Mr. Bartol's book was not produced by a hasty skimming of his memory. He has written out from an experience that vitalizes his words, his judgment upon the value and the perils of a foreign tour, as a resource for a retired mind and a process of education; he has pictured those landscapes which appealed so deeply to his heart that they could not fade when his eye was taken from them, but transferred themselves, in colors rarer and more lasting than the painter mixes, to the picture-gallery of the mind; he has poured out the feelings which the recollection of what is grandest in the natural features of Europe has confirmed and freshened, of the overflowing bounty and mercy of God in the beauty of the world; he has told us what impressions the great works of human skill in conquering the obstacles and obstinacy of nature, and the rarest products of genius in architecture and painting, have left upon him in proof of the inferiority of God's creations in nature, to those which He has wrought by the dictation of His spirit through the greatest souls; he has told us not only of the artistic delight which the crowning works of art in Europe afforded, but also the permanent testimony they have left in behalf of the greater glory of religion; he has turned the witnesses which he saw of the rise, and splendor, and selfishness,

and decay of human kingdoms, to the service of indicating and illustrating the sure and silent progress of that moral kingdom which lives within these visible entrenchments of authority and race, enduring while the vestments of history change, and organizing itself steadily, through principles, and plans, and fellowships that overleap the divisions and antipathies of blood;while the aspects of the church, and the struggles of society, and the chronic miseries of great classes of people in the old world, have stimulated his pen, not merely to describe them, but to utter broad Christian truths and serene hopes for the future, both in this world and the next, that reveal a noble philanthropy, and leave the reader, who has carefully followed the leading of his chapters, in the mood of devout gratitude and cheerful


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It is hardly necessary, after this sketch of the purpose of the book, to give the titles of the chapters. They follow each other in this order: "Abroad and at Home; ""Beauty of the World; The Mountains; ""The Rivers;" "The Lakes;""The Sea; " "Superiority of Art to Nature;" "Testimony of Art to Religion; " "The Enduring Kingdom;" "The Church;" "Society;" "Country;" "Mankind;" "History;" "Destiny." The first half of the book will be found to be more distinguished for brilliancy of verbal painting. It would be difficult, certainly, to name a volume that contains so many pen-pictures, gorgeously colored, and yet not violating simplicity or purity of taste. Mr. De Quincey has clearly demonstrated, in one of his essays, that pomp of style is often the only simplicity, because, from the demands of the subject, such treatment is the only real truth to nature. If a man is to describe the glories of a sunset, or Mont Blanc seen at sunrise, or the panorama that breaks upon a traveller from the summit of the Jura, his imag ination must indeed be very vivid, and his words far above the splendor of any we have yet found in an English dictionary, if he is to go beyond the truth, in suggesting the luxury and revel of the retreating light among the western vapors, or the dumb majesty of the ice-crowned Emperor of Savoy, or the magnificence of that expanse of plain and valley that is bound in a chasing of eternal frost. There is no necessary connection between gorgeousness or pomp of composition and floridness. Pomp of movement and splendor of ornament are as simple as the dry terms of mathematical logic, where the subject is one that appeals to the deepest sentiments, and where feeling swells, under the rhythm, and flows so manifestly through all the magnificence of treatment, that you have no suspicion of a mind straining after rolling periods and shining words. In the richest passages of Mr. Bartol's volume, the reader is conscious that the feeling of the writer was so deep that his utterance must be sweeping, cumulative, and eloquent. We catch the glow as we read, and in almost every case are kindled rather by the sentiment that pene

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