when he has professed the tenderest love, done us the most signal good, and promised us a perpetual enjoy.. ment of his favours; it will be impossible to neglect such an illustrious and generous person. His name must be engraven upon our hearts, must slide insensibly into our tongues, and be as music to our ears. Is not all this true, and in the most supereminent degree, with regard to the blessed God? Can greater kindness be exercised, or greater love be conceived, than to deliver up his own Son to torments and death, for the expiation of our sins? Can benefits more desirable be granted, than to adopt us for his children, and sanctify us by his Spirit? Can promises more invaluable be made, than those which insure to us the preferments of heaven, and the riches of eternity? All this is attested, concerning the Almighty Ma. jesty, in the Scriptures of truth. What a fund, therefore, for pleasing and delicate conversation, are the Scriptures! Ther. Here also I have the pleasure of concurring with my Aspasio. Though I believe he suspects me to be somewhat wavering or defective in my venera. tion for the Scriptures. Asp. No, Theron: I have a better opinion of your taste and discernment, than to harbour any such sus picion. Ther. The Scriptures are certainly an inexhaustible fund of materials for the most delightful and ennobling discourse. When we consider the Author of those sacred books-that they came originally from heaven-were dictated by divine wisdom-have the same consummate excellence as the works of creation -it is really surprising, that we are not always searching, by study, by meditation, or converse, into one or other of those grand volumes. Asp. When Secker preaches, or Murray pleads, the church is crowded, and the bar thronged. When Spence produces the refinement of criticism, or Young displays the graces of poetry, the press toils, yet is scarce able to supply the demands of the public. Are we eager to hear, and impatient to purchase, what proceeds from such eloquent tongues, and masterly pens? and can we be coldly indifferent, when-not the most accomplished of mankind-not the most exalted of creatures, but the adorable Author of all wisdom, speaks in his revealed word? Strange! that our attention does not hang upon the venerable accents, and our talk dwell upon the incomparable truths! Ther. I admire, I must confess, the very language of the Bible. In this, methinks, I discern a conformity between the book of nature and the book of Scripture. In the book of nature the divine Teacher speaks, not barely to our ears, but to all our senses; and it is very remarkable how he varies his address. Observe his grand and august works. In these he uses the style of majesty: we may call it the true sublime. It strikes with awe, and transports the mind. View his ordinary operations. Here he descends to a plainer dialect. This may be termed the familiar style. We comprehend it with ease, and attend to it with plea In the more ornamented parts of the creation he clothes his meaning with elegance. All is rich and brilliant. We are delighted; we are charmed. And what is this but the florid style? A variety, somewhat similar, runs through the Scriptures. Would you see history in all her simpli city and all her force; most beautifully easy, yet irresistibly striking? See her, or rather feel her energy, touching the nicest movements of the soul, and triumphing over our passions, in the inimitable narrative of Joseph's life. The representation of Esau's bitter distress; the conversation-pieces of Jonathan and his gallant friend; the memorable journal of the dis ciples going to Emmaus ; are finished models of the impassioned and affecting. Here is nothing studied; no flights of fancy; no embellishments of oratory. Yet how inferior is the episode of Nisus and Euryalus, though worked up by the most masterly hand in the St. Luke, in his evangelical history, uses this beautiful image, efeкpeuаTо. The people hung upon the lips of their allwise Teacher, Luke xix. 48. Which implies two very strong ideas-an attention, that nothing could interrupt-and an eager ness, scarce ever to be satisfied. Pendetque loquentis ab ore.-Virg. + Gen. xxvii. 30, &c. 1 Sam. xviii-xx. Luke xxiv. 13, &c. world, to the undissembled artless fervency of these scriptural sketches!⚫ Are we pleased with the elevation and dignity of an heroic poem; or the tenderness and perplexity of a dramatic performance? In the book of Job they are both united, and both unequalled. Conformably to the exactest rules of art, as the action advances, the inci. dents are more'alarming, and the images more magnificent. The language glows, and the pathos swells. Till, at last, the Deity himself makes his entrance. He speaks from the whirlwind, and summons the creation; summons heaven, and all its shining host; the elements, and their most wonderful productions, to vouch for the wisdom of his providential dispensations. His word strikes terror, and flashes conviction: decides the momentous controversy, and closes the august drama, with all possible solemnity and grandeur. If we sometimes choose a plaintive strain; such as softens the mind, and soothes an agreeable melancholy; are any of the ancient tragedies superior, in the eloquence of mourning, to David's pathetic elegy on his beloved Jonathan;t to his most passionate and inconsolable moan, over the lovely but unhappy Absalom ; Let a person of true taste, peruse, in a critical view, the two first chapters of St. Luke. He will there find a series of the most surprising incidents, related with the greatest simplicity, yet with the utmost majesty. All which, extremely affecting in themselves, are heightened and illuminated, by a judicious intermixture of the sublimest pieces of poetry. For my own part, I know not how to characterize them more properly, than by Solomon's elegant comparison. They are as gold rings set with the beryl, or as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires.-Cantic. v. 14. + 2 Sam. 1.19, &c. 12 Sam. xviii. 33. The king was vehemently affected (1) and went up to the chamber and wept: and as he went he said, O my son Absalom! my son, my son Absalom! would to God I had died for thee! O Absalom, my son, my son! Such a picture, and so much pathos; so artless both, and both so exquisite; I must acknowledge I never met with among all the representations of dignity in distress. The king's troops had gained a signal victory, his crown and his life were rescued from the most imminent danger; yet all the honours and all the joys of this successful day, were swallowed up and lost in the news of Absalom's death. The news of Absalom's death struck like a dagger the afflicted father. He starts from his seat, he hastens into retirement, there to pour out his soul in copious lamentation. But his anguish is too impetuous, to bear a moVOL. I. C or to that melodious woe, which warbles and bleeds in every line of Jeremiah's Lamentations? Would we be entertained with the daring sublimity of Homer, or the correct majesty of Virgil? with the expressive delicacy of Horace, or the rapid excursions of Pindar? behold them joined, behold them excelled, in the odes of Moses, and the eucharistic hymn of Deborah; in the exalted devotion of the Psalms, and the glorious enthusiasm of the prophets. Asp. Only with this difference, that the former are tuneful triflers, and amuse the fancy with empty fic. tion: the latter are teachers sent from God, and make the soul wise unto salvation./ The Bible, is not only the brightest ornament, but the most invaluable depositum. On a right, a practical knowledge of these lively oracles, depends the present comfort, and the endless felicity of mankind. Whatever, therefore, in study or conversation, has no connexion with their divine contents; may be reckoned among the toys of literature, or the cyphers of discourse.) Ther. Here again the book of Scripture, is somewhat like the magazine of nature. What can we desire, for our accommodation and delight, which this store-house of conveniencies does not afford? what can we wish, for our edification and improvement, which that fund of knowledge does not supply? of these we may truly affirm, each, in its respective kind, is profitable unto all things. Are we admirers of antiquity? Here, we are led back beyond the universal deluge, and far beyond the date of any other annals. We are introduced among the earliest inhabitants of the earth. We take a view of mankind in their undisguised primitive plainness; ment's restraint; he bursts immediately into a flood of tears, and cries as he goes, O Absalom, &c. What says Mezentius when his son is slain? when to sharpen his sorrow, the pale corpse, the miserable spectacle, is before his eyes and within his arms! the most pathetic word he utters, is Heu! nunc misero mihi demum Exilium infælix, nunc altè vulnus adactum." How languid is Virgil! how inexpressive the prince of Latin poetry, compared with the royal mourner in Israel! most evident, from this and many other instances, is the superiority of the Scriptures, in copying nature and painting the passions. Ludit amabiliter." when the days of their life were but little short of a thousand years. We are brought acquainted with the original of nations; with the creation of the world; and with the birth of time itself. Are we delighted with vast achievements? Where is any thing comparable to the miracles in Egypt, and the wonders in the field of Zoan? to the memoirs of the Israelites, passing through the depths of the sea; sojourning amidst the inhospitable deserts; and conquering the kingdoms of Canaan? where shall we meet with instances of martial bravery, equal to the prodi gious exploits of the Judges; or the adventurous deeds of Jesse's valiant son, and his matchless band of wor thies? Here we behold the fundamental laws of the universe, sometimes suspended, sometimes reversed; and not only the current of Jordan, but the course of nature controlled. In short, when we enter the field of scripture, we tread-on enchanted, shall I say? rather on consecrated ground; where astonishment and awe are awakened, at every turn. Where is all, more than all, the marvellous of romance,t connected with all the precision and sanctity of truth. If we want maxims of wisdom, or have a taste for the laconic style: how copiously may our wants be supplied, and how delicately our taste gratified! especially in the book of Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and some of the minor prophets. Here, are the most sage lessons of instruction; adapted to every circumstance of life; formed upon the experience of all preceding ages; and perfected by the unerring Spirit of inspiration. These delivered with such remarkable conciseness, that one might venture to say, every word is a sentence. At least, every sentence may be called an apophthegm; sparkling with brightness of thought, or weighty with solidity of sense. The whole, like a profusion of pearls-each containing, in a very small compass, a See 2 Sam. xxiii. 8, &c. 1 Chron. xl. 10, &c. What Cicero said of Thucydides, is more eminently true concerning our royal moralist, and his rich collection of ethics; concerning our evangelical historians and their copious variety of facts: Eum adeo esse rebus plenum refertumque, ut prope at yerborum numerum numero rerum æquet.' |