is that of the Labourers in the Vineyard; who, though hired at different hours of the day, received all of them the same reward for their labour. The Lord of the Vineyard is here represented as going out into the market-place at the eleventh hour, and for the last time.

"He extended his mercy even to the last kour.-A most affecting situation is here supposed;—a man at the eleventh hour,' in the evening of his life, on the brink of eternity, without hope, without Christ, without pardon! The feeble hand raised against heaven, the heavy ear shut against the thunders of judgment, the failing eye closed against the beauty of holiness, the languid heart beating defiance, the aged sinner glorying in the character of a hoary traitor against the majesty, the throne, and the rights of God! Such is the situation and it is the more deplorable, inasmuch as age has rendered it more desperate. Habits of vice have become inveterate and incurable;-the yoke of corruption, the chains of sin, have been strengthened and rivetted by time. The powers of nature are weakened. Not merely is the will more indisposed, by long converse with evil, to choose the good, and the conscience is become seared as with a hot iron; but the man is less able to labour for God, if he were most willing; and were his heart tender and affection te, his hands have lost their activity. All appears to be lost !”

Those who have perused the passages we have selected, can hardly have failed to observe the propriety with which Dr. Collyer introduces his quotations, as well from profane authors as from the scriptures. They are generally so well selected and so skilfully connected with what precedes and follows them, that they become not merely an ornament to the composition, but a real and essential part of it. We give an instance taken at random. Speaking of the detection of hypocrisy which must take place at the day of judgment, and of the punishment which will then be denounced against those whose religion is merely external, he observes, "And is this the end of brilliant pro«fession and uncommon privileges? Do the pretensions of the "mere professor thus terminate? Then I saw there was a "way to hell, even from the gates of Heaven.'" When the words of others are introduced, as in this volume, so as to add either force to the argument, or brilliancy to the expression, something valuable is gained: but when excessive zeal for the inspired volume, and the productions of the learned fathers, induces writers to multiply authorities which darken rather than enlighten the subjects on which they write, their labours could well have been spared. When doubts or difficulties occur, the best and most approved authorities are in their place; but many a writer appears to have partaken of that idle ambition which a certain person once imputed to the author of Paradise Lost,

when he gravely supposed him to have composed that poem -to show his learning.

In the course of the work we observe some verbal criticisms on certain passages in the original, which have given rise to various opinions; and as every thing is of importance that tends to throw light upon the darker sayings of scripture, it may not be deemed improper to take notice of one of them here. It is said that "Joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons who need no repentance." A variety of explanations of this text have been offered by commentators; only two of them, however, seem deserving of consideration. We are inclined to agree with Dr. Collyer in his interpretation of it, though it is at variance with that of Schleusner, and others whose opinions on a subject of this kind are never to be despised.

"Some (says Dr. C) have understood by the term 'just pers ns,' selfrighteous characters, who suppose they need no repentance,--applying the sentiment to the Pharisees. But not to say the statement is positive from the lips of our Lord, and not founded on their misconceptions, it is evident that a comparison is instituted-that the images suppose these persons in a state of safety-that the condition of the self-righteous could afford the sympathising spirits in heaven no joy whatever; consequently the joy at the conversion of a sinner would form a contrast with their feelings towards such characters, but no point of comparison. It is intimated that they rejoice with the one, but rejoice more with the other.The meaning of the passage may be best determined by an attention to the terms employed in the original. The 'just persons' I consider as meaning real and established saints, who need no repentance,' no conversion, or universal change of heart and life,-no abandonment of evil pursuits which they have already renounced,—no new principle, having been already regenerated."

As to the meaning of the word μeravoia-that it does not signify merely repentance or godly sorrow for any transgression, but an entire change of conduct, no doubt we believe is now entertained. The occasional deviations of a good man call for repentance, but not for reformation. A self-righteous man cannot be said to have no need of reformation; for with him selfdeception is become habitual, and is daily causing errors in his conduct. If we understand by dixa self-righteous persons who think they have no need of reformation, the unhappy situation of such persons might certainly be supposed to give greater concern to the compassionate angels even than that of much more profligate characters, inasmuch as the high opinion they entertain of their own merits leaves less hope of their

conversion.

It is not however in criticism that this author's chief merit

consists, learned and acute as he is. Fortunately, he knows his proper province, and keeps within the limits of it-limits very extensive, and containing objects that are most momentous. There is not, perhaps, an individual in his Majesty's dominions, who preaches to crowded congregations oftener than he does; who unites more happily a lively zeal with substantial knowledge; who contributes more to the present satisfaction of his auditors; and, if we may judge, to their well-grounded hope of lasting enjoyment. Would to Heaven that our ecclesiastical establishment, now admitted to be in danger, were upheld by a thousand new churches; and that each of them had an incumbent as capable as he, both of creating popularity and of prolonging its existence.

ART. IX.-1. Specch of Mr. PHILLIFS, delivered in the court of Common Pleas, Dublin, in the case of Guthrie v. Sterne. 2. Speeches of the Right Hon. JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN. 3. Speeches of LORD ERSKINE, when at the Bar, on Miscellaneous Subjects.

[Concluded from No. X. p. 216] IT is impossible to compare the whole of this speech (Lord Erskine's) with that of Mr. Curran, without being struck with the different style of oratory that distinguished these two luminaries of the English and the Irish bar.

For whilst the impassioned oratory of the latter makes its appeal principally, if not entirely, to the passions: the more nervous though less imposing eloquence of the former, as completely enlists those passions on his side, whilst he flatters the Jury into the belief, that they are estimating the damages, by the unbiassed dictates of their own judgment. He always seems to be reasoning with them, but he artfully mingles with that reasoning the most powerful appeal to every virtuous feeling of the heart. If we turn to the speech of Mr. Curran, we shall find that it is less to the sympathy of the husband, the father, the guardians of public morals, and even the avengers of private wrongs, than to the patriotism of the Irishman, that he directs the whole force of his eloquence. But notwithstanding this national peculiarity, which seems, by the way to be oneprincipal cause of the Irish eloquence, being so much more declamatory than the English; we do not hesitate to characterize this speech as one of the most brilliant displays of forensic eloquence which has of late years been exhibited

in our courts. As an impassioned appeal to the feelings of a jury; as a bold and undaunted exposition of vice, rendered at once doubly dangerous, and doubly despicable, by the coronet which glittered on its brow; there are passages in it, which we never expect to find excelled, nor dare we hope to see them even equalled. We regret that the want of room will not allow us to give many proofs of the justice of this description. One or two we cannot, however, deny ourselves the pleasure of transcribing and amongst the many eloquent passages which this speech affords, we are disposed to give a conspicuous place to the following dignified, but cutting annunciation of the Defendant's rank, and of the riches from which the Jury might have the satisfaction of abstracting most liberal damages, for the injury done to the plaintiff.

"Look now to the defendant!-I blush to name him!—I "blush to name a rank which he has tarnished-and a patent "that he has worse than cancelled. High in the army-high in "the state-the hereditary counsellor of the king-of wealth "incalculable-and to this last I advert with an indignant and ❝contemptuous satisfaction, because, as the only instrument "of his guilt and shame, it will be the means of his punishment, "and the source of compensation for his guilt."

No less ably, no less eloquently, is the imputation cast upon the unsuspecing confidence of the husband and the irreproachable conduct of the wife, before the seductions of the noble Marquis had poisoned her mind, repelled by the indignant assertor of that husband's honour. But for proof of this we must refer our readers to the speech itself, contenting ourselves, the while, with quoting one short, but emphatic passage, in which the latter of these imputations is dexterously converted into a strong ground of aggravation.

"But I am soliciting your attention, and your feeling, to the mean and odious aggravation-to the unblushing and remorseless barbarity, of falsely aspersing the wretched woman he had undone. One good he has done, he has disclosed to you the point in which he can feel; for how imperious must that avarice be, which could resort to so vile an expedient of frugality! Yes, I will say, that with the common feelings of a man, he would have rather suffered his thirty thousand a year to go as compensation to the plaintiff, than have saved a shilling of it by so vile an expedient of economy. He would rather have starved with her in a gaol, he would rather have sunk with her into the ocean, than have so vilified her, than have so degraded himself."

We might easily refer to many passages of equal strength and beauty, but our limits will only allow us to direct the attention of our readers to the very masterly manner in which the dis

graceful conduct of the defendant, in a former instance of seduction is made a most powerful auxiliary in augmenting the detestation, which it is the main object of the advocate to raise against him in the present case. And this is done, they will observe, by dexterously placing in the mouth of the judge who was presiding at the trial, such arguments as he might have used, to dissuade this peer of the realm from the commission of a crime, which, in its prosecution could procure him no solid pleasure, and in its result must lead to his own disgrace, and to the irretrievable ruin of the woman whom he pretended to adore.

"You have said," exclaims the eloquent pleader,-but we must pass over the former part of this address, powerful as are the claims that it presents on our admiration, and hasten to the passage to which we more immediately allude.

"Here is not the case of an unmarried woman with whom a pure and generous friendship may insensibly have ripened into a more serious attachment, until at last her heart became too deeply pledged to be re-assumed: if so circumstanced, without any husband to betray, or child to desert, or motive to restrain, except what related solely to herself, her anxiety for your happiness made her overlook every other consideration, and commit her history to your honour; in such a case, (the strongest and the highest that imagination can suppose;) in which you at least could see nothing but the most noble and disinterested sacrifice; in which you could find nothing but what claimed from you the most kind and exalted sentiment of tenderness, and devotion, and respect; and in which the most fastidious rigour would find so much more subject for sympathy than blame:-Let me ask you, could you even in that case, answer for your own justice and gratitude? I do not allude to the long and pitiful catalogue of paltry adventures, in which, it seems, your time has been employed-The coarse and vulgar succession of casual connexions, joyless, loveless and unendeared: but do you not find upon your memory some trace of an engagement of the character I have sketched? Has not your sense of what you would owe in such a case, and to such a woman been at least once put to the test of experiment? Has it not once at least happened that such a woman, with all the resolution of strong faith, flung her youth, her hope, her beauty, her talent, upon your bosom, weighed you against the world, which she found but a feather in the scale, and took you as an equivalent? How did you then acquit yourself? Did you prove yourself worthy of the sacred trust reposed in you? Did your spirit so associate with hers, as to leave her no room to regret the splendid and disinterested sacrifice she had made? Did her soul find a pillow in the tenderness of yours, and support in its firmness? Did you preserve her high in your own consciousness, proud in your admiration and friendship, and happy in your affection? You might have so acted, and the man that was worthy of her would have perished rather than not so act, as to make her delighted with having confided so sacred a trust to his honour-Did you so act? Did she feel that, however precious to your heart, she was still more exalted and honoured in your reverence and respect? Or did she find you coarse and paltry, fluttering and unpurposed, unfeeling and ungrateful? You found her a fair and blushing