The description which Paul gives of them in Heb., xi. 26-38, reveals one secret of their authority over the people. 2. The history of the Christian religion is a proof, that men who separate themselves from the world by a life of visible austerity, make a stronger sensation than those who let themselves down to a more apparent congeniality with their fellow-men. John withdrew himself from the sympathies of youth even, spent his early days in the wilderness, dressed himself in an eccentric garb, refused the comforts of life, came forward at last with bold denunciations against sin, and, if he had performed miracles, might have eclipsed the Saviour in popular admiration. As it was, he was supposed to be the Christ; he was obliged often to send applicants away from himself to the "One mightier than he;" men were astonished that he neither ate nor drank, while they looked down upon the more social Jesus as a glutton and a wine bibber; and even after the Baptist's death, there remained a party who believed in and advocated his Messiahship. The apostles of the Saviour were obliged from the first to resist the tendency of the Church to an austere life; but the tendency at length prevailed, and was more and more abused, until mild men who deemed it right to be companionable, were despised; the saints were the anchorites, the most barbarous self-tortures were esteemed the surest signs of inward holiness, and a religion of gloom was thought to be the purest. 3. The history of heathen nations proves that fanatics, who exhibit a peculiar severity of manners, who perform painful exploits, and mal-treat their physical system in the service of the gods, excite more general astonishment and complacency than is excited by tender-hearted and accommodating men.

Secondly, we will investigate the causes of this remarkable phenomenon. 1. The dark and austere virtue is more striking than the cheerful and kindly. A man who disciplines himself visibly in the maceration of his body, arrests more attention than a man who schools his heart in secret. John, with his diet of locusts and wild. honey, is more readily noticed than one who is "in all things like unto his brethren, yet without sin." A bold reprover who puts his adversaries to shame, takes a stronger hold upon them than the mild friend who strives to insinuate into them the gentle influence of love. 2. The austere religion is apparently more infrequent than the cheerful. It is an outward exception to the general rule. There seem to be fewer men who renounce the pleasures of the world altogether, than there are who partake of them with moderation. We are naturally most impressed by that which occurs but seldom. 3. The severe virtue is esteemed more genuine than the mild. It is

thought to be far more difficult to spurn all earthly good than to make a wise use of it. A philanthropist who deigns to commune pleasantly with men, is regarded as on a perfect equality with them; and it is not considered that he may be influenced, in holding this communion with them, by the pious desire of elevating them to his own moral standard. On the other hand, if under the impulses of scorn and pride he should violently denounce men, he would be regarded as superior to them in moral worth, too high above them for sympathy with their follies. He raises himself up to be a mark for observation; and it is asked, what other than a good motive can a man have for making himself, in toils and sufferings bodily and mental, an exception to his race? 4. As the unsocial virtue is esteemed the more pure, so it is esteemed the more difficult of imitation, and therefore is the more amazing and impressive. Men imagine that it requires no effort to perform the gentle, winning, refined, and modest duties of the philanthropist, but the penances and harsh discipline of the hermit are well-nigh superhuman; and it is natural to revere the difficult more than the easy.

Thirdly, we will notice a few ideas suggested by this disposition of men, to esteem the forbidding, more highly than the alluring virtues. 1. This disposition suggests a lesson of instruction. Although, apart from its abuses, it is in itself right, yet it is not the distinctive form of Christian piety. The spirit of Christianity is one of love, tenderness, clemency; it flows outward in generous efforts for the happiness of men, and does not keep the eye of the philanthropist introverted upon himself, his heart locked up from the approach of his neighbors. Our Saviour does not condemn that type of piety which was exemplified without its natural abuses in John, but He does not extol it as the most desirable, and His own example favors the more amiable virtues. These are in less danger of becoming ostentatious, of being regarded as supererogatory, of degenerating into pride, obstinacy, misanthropy, fanaticism, extravagance. They are also in fact, although not in appearance and in common estimation, more infrequent, more pure, more difficult than all the self-inflicted tortures of what are called the religious orders. 2. This disposition, as it has prevailed in past ages, suggest a mortify. ing reflection on our present state.. It must be confessed that we, my hearers, do not value the unsocial virtues so highly as the social, We do not honor the man who cuts himself off from human sympathies. Why? Is it because we have imbibed more of the spirit of the Gospel? Do you believe this? No. It is because we have become too effeminate for those self-sacrifices, too soft for those con

flicts, too weak for those toils which once commanded the reverence of mankind, but are looked upon by us in our degeneracy as irrational and ludicrous. We have lost the impetuous zeal of the one class, and the faithful love of the other class of the true friends of their race, and we should therefore be ashamed of our indifference to religion, our pusillanimity, love of repose, enervated wills. 3. This disposition, as it has prevailed among men, suggests to us a solemn warning. We are too sickly to revere the rigorous virtues, and too cold-hearted to practice those that are more genial. We do not reflect on the strictness of life which is involved in a cheerful piety; a strictness more constant, more laborious, requiring more watchfulness and a more earnest spirit, than are needful for the ascetic, monastic state. It demands a greater effort to win men to holiness by a uniform benignant example, than to administer the sharpest rebukes against sin. There is great danger that, mistaking the nature of Christian cheerfulness, forgetting the description of the broad and narrow way, and of our duty to work out our salvation with fear and trembling, we shall become more and more selfish, worldly, fickle and trifling, until we ruin our souls. Wherefore let us have grace whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear, for our God is a consuming fire.

DISCOURSE THIRTY-EIGHTH.

DR. FRED. D. E. SCHLEIERMACHER.

THIS distinguished theologian and philologist was born at Breslau in 1768, and received his education at the academy of the Moravian brethren at Niesky, and at Halle. In 1794, after having been employed as teacher, he was ordained a clergyman, and appointed assistant preacher at Landsberg on the Warte. From 1796 to 1802 he was minister in the Charité (a great hospital) at Berlin. Here he performed much literary labor. In 1802 he removed to Stolpe, and the same year was appointed Professor Extraordinarius of Theology at Halle, and preacher to the University. In 1807 he removed to Berlin, where he lectured and preached, and in 1809 was appointed preacher at the Trinity Church, and, in 1810, Professor Ordinarius. He died in Berlin, February 12th, 1834.

Schleiermacher is described as a "little hunchbacked, sickly man,” of evident piety, and great simplicity of manners. Few men have equaled him in activity. Besides attending to his pulpit duties, and lecturing in various departments, he translated Plato, and Fawcet's sermons, contributed to the "Athenæum," and wrote sermons and various other works in great number for the press.

In some of his theological opinions Schleiermacher was unsound; and he seems to stand between the rationalists and the evangelical party. But he was one of the deepest thinkers of his day, and his eloquence was entrancing. The ready effusions of his exhaustless genius drew after him many enthusiastic admirers. His sermons, which appear to have been designed for academic and educated classes, are sometimes abstruse, discovering the philosophic cast of his mind, but their arrangement is clear, their tone earnest and sincere; and though often weakened by strange conceits, and fanciful applications, yet they contain many original, profound, and striking thoughts upon the meaning and bearings of the Scriptures.

The discourse here given is translated from the Complete Edition of Schleiermacher's Works, Berlin 1834, vol. ii. part 2, p. 176. It has been remarked upon as one of the best which the author ever wrote.

CHRIST'S RESURRECTION A PATTERN OF OUR NEW LIFE.

Praise and honor be to God, and peace be with all those who, with joyful heart call out to one another, The Lord is risen! Amen.

"Therefore we are buried with Him by baptism into death, that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in a new life. But if we have been planted together with Him to a like death, we shall be also like the resurrection. Knowing this that our old man is crucified with Him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin. For he that is dead is justified from sin. But if we be dead with Christ we believe that we shall also live with Him."-Rom. vi. 4-8.

My devout friends, it is natural that the glorious feast of the resurrection of our Redeemer should allure the thoughts of believers into the remote distance, and that they should now be glad in anticipation of the time when they shall be with Him, who, after He had risen from the dead, returned to His Father and our Father, as our united song just now was occupied with this joyful prospect. But in the words of our text the Apostle calls us back out of the distance into that which is near, into the immediate present of our life here below. He seizes on that which lies nearest us, that in which we should now share a part, and which should already in this world form us into the likeness of our Lord's resurrection. We are buried, he says, "with Him into death, that as He was raised through the glory of the Father, we also should walk in a new life." And this new life is that which, as our Lord Himself saith, "all those who believe in Him as having passed through death unto life, even now possess." This the Apostle compares with those glorious days of the resurrection of our Lord; and how could we keep this feast-a feast in which, above all, the greater part of Christians are wont to derive renewed strength for that new life from the most intimate communion with our heavenly Head-how could we keep this feast more worthily, than while we endeavor to appropriate to ourselves this truth which lies on the face of the Apostle's words? Let us, therefore, after this introduction, contemplate the Life of the resurrection of our Lord, according to the representations of the Apostles, as a glorious, though it may be an unattainable pattern of the new life in which we ought all to walk through Him.

I. This new life resembles that of the risen Redeemer, first, in the manner of its origin. In order that He might appear to His disciples