the representations of Scripture. While the ruins of a previous organization lay formless and desolate, darkness," we are told, "was upon the face of the deep, and the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters." It was these tertiary waters which were divided by the firmament on the second day; and were gathered into seas and oceans on the third. 6. Geology teaches that man, and most of the present races of animals, have not existed on the earth more than a few thousands of years. In the transition and secondary formations, and in the deeper portions of the tertiary, we find no traces of human beings, or, with few exceptions, of such animals as now exist. Indeed, it is not at all likely that man could have lived on the earth at that period, had he been placed here. Dragons, and mighty lizards, and other frightful amphibious creatures were then the lords of the creation. It is only in the upper tertiary and diluvial formations, that we find the remains of such animals as now exist, and in some few cases, perhaps, the bones of men. Now this shows conclusively that man, and the present races of animals, are among the comparatively recent inhabitants of the earth. They cannot have existed on it more than a few thousands of years. The Scriptures certify us of the truth of this important geological conclusion. They inform us definitely, that man, and the other animals now on the earth, were created less than six thousand years ago. 7. It is a remarkable fact, that in those geological formations which are supposed to have been deposited before the formation of man, there have been found as yet no literal serpents, i. c., reptiles without legs or fins, and which creep upon the belly. Of the general class of serpents, or of what would have been serpents, if they had gone upon the belly, there are reptiles in abundance, of various sizes and forms. But they all were furnished with legs, or fins, or wings, or paddles, or some means of locomotion, beyond what belongs to the proper serpent. If this is a fact, as I believe it is, in what way is it to be accounted for? There is nothing certainly in the organization or habits of the proper serpent which unfit him to have lived among the saurians of the secondary formation. On the contrary, all that we know respecting him would seem to adapt him precisely to that period, and to the state of the then existing earth. Why, then, do we find no proper serpents there, and nowhere until after the creation of man? The writer of the book of Genesis assigns a reason. On the apostasy of man, the serpent tribe, or a large proportion of them, became divested of some of their important members, and were henceforth doomed to roll, and gather their meat upon the naked earth. 66 Upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life," chap. iii. 14. 8. Geology teaches that, at a period more recent than the creation of the present races of animals, the earth has been covered and washed with a deluge of waters. The proof of this is furnished every where. We cannot dig into a sand-hill or gravel-pit in any place, without discovering evidence of this deluge. We learn, too, from various indications, such as the deltas at the mouths of rivers, the amount of lava which has subsequently been issued from volcanoes, and the detritus which have fallen from the sides of mountains, that this terrible catastrophe cannot have been a very remote event. We know, from bones which are found in the diluvial formations, that it occurred since the existence of the present races of animals, and probably since the existence of man. The Scriptures inform us definitely when this great event did occur, and why; and its representations accord entirely with the conclusions of science on the same subject. 9. Geology teaches that the deluge, of which we speak, must have come over the earth suddenly, by some violent interruption of the regular course of nature. The waters seem to have rushed with great violence from the north to the south, overtopping the highest mountains, and carrying along with them prodigious quantities of stones and earth. As to the extent and suddenness of the deluge, the Bible teaches the same doctrine. We are told expressly that the waters covered the highest mountains. We are told, too, that the guilty inhabitants of the earth "were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, and knew not" -so sudden was the event to them-they "knew not till the flood came, and swallowed them all up." Matt. xxiv. 37-39. The fountains of the great deep were suddenly broken up, and the waters seem to have rolled over them in one wide wave of instant desolation. 10. Geology informs us that the same species of animals existed before the deluge which exist now. Consequently, they must have been, in some way, preserved through the deluge, or, contrary to previous analogy, the same races which had been destroyed must have been re-produced afterwards. The Scriptures inform us that the different kinds of antediluvian animals were preserved through the deluge, and how they were preserved. They were safely lodged with Noah in the ark. 11. Geology indicates that there have been violent volcanic eruptions near the site of the ancient Sodom and Gomorrah; and that what is now the Dead Sea was, in all probability, sunk in one of these eruptions. The account given in the Scriptures of the destruction of Sodom and the cities of the plain, is altogether coincident with those indications. 12. Geology teaches that, as the earth we inhabit has undergone already repeated revolutions, in which it has been rent from its deep foundations, and the races of creatures existing on it have been destroyed, to give place to others of a more perfect organization; so, in all probability, another terrible revolution awaits our globe. It is to be destroyed (so to speak) again; and fitted up again, to be the habitation of nobler races of beings than those which now dwell upon it. Such, reasoning from analogy, are the deductions of geology, in regard to this momentous subject. And these deductions are in perfect accordance with the teachings of revelation. The present earth is to he destroyed-at least, the present organization of it; after which "we look for a new heavens and a new earth, in which dwelleth righteousness." 2 Pet. iii. 13. 13. Geology renders it altogether probable that the next overwhelming destruction of this world will be by fire. The earth is full of the most combustible materials; and it is on fire even now. The smoke of its burning is ascending up from a thousand furnaces. Its molten lavas are belching forth from its heaving bosom, and pouring down the sides of its mountains, and scorching its plains. We have about as much evidence geologically that this earth is one day to be destroyed by fire, as we should have that a house would be destroyed by fire, when we saw the smoke and flame issuing from its roof, and bursting forth from its opened windows. Now the Scriptures expressly assure us that this earth is one day to be destroyed by fire. "The heavens and the earth which are now are kept in store, reserved unto fire, against the day of judgment, and perdition of ungodly men." "The day of the Lord will come, as a thief in the night in the which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also, and the works that are therein, shall be burnt up." 2 Pet. iii. 7-10 14. I shall notice but another of the coincidences between the teachings of geology and those of revelation. It appears from both these sources of evidence, that we are living, every day, on the sovereign forbearance and mercy of the Supreme Being. Nothing can be more critical, startling, and, were it not for the divine forbearance, alarming than is our situation, and that of every other human being, viewed geologically. som. tion, are sufficient to convince any one, that the consistent geologist must be a Christian; that the unbelieving and undevout geologist is mad. obedience urged for the redeemer's SAKE: A DISCOURSE. BY THE REV. JOHN BRUCE, A.M., One of the Ministers of St. Andrew's Parish, Edinburgh. "If ye love me, keep my commandments."-JOHN xiv. 15. IT seems to be generally supposed that our Lord here intended to supply his apostles and the believing Church with such a test or experimental trial of the sincerity of their love, as it might be well and necessary for them frequently to apply. And this view of our text is taken from supposing that it suggested itself to the mind of our Lord in some such very natural connection as I shall now explain. It is known that the heat of the earth increases, in regular proportion, the deeper we penetrate into its boShould this proportion of increase continue, as we descend into the earth-and no reason can be assigned why it should not-at the depth of a few miles only we should reach a temperature which would instantly melt the solid rocks. The probability, therefore, is, that the unknown interior of the earth is one vast sea of liquid fire; or, at least, that it consists of materials which would instantly take fire, and rage with resistless desolation, the moment they should come in contact with the waters of the ocean which roll above them. It is these pent-up fires which have already upheaved the mountains, and shaken whole continents in a single earthquake. It is these which have riven the solid rocks in sunder, and streamed up lavas through them, in the form of trap dykes, for many thousands of feet. It is these which are smoking in the craters of volcanoes, and boiling in their bosoms, in every part of the earth. Here, then, we live, on a thin and already broken crust, which is extended over a vast ocean of liquid fire. And why do we live here at all? Why do not the smothered flames burst out and consume us? It is only because of the divine forbearObserving that these words form a part of that ance and mercy. It is only because, as the Scriptures last consolatory discourse which was addressed to express it, speaking in reference to this very subject, his disciples, just after he had received from them "God is long-suffering to usward, not willing that any professions of the most ardent affection, and whilst should perish, but that all should come to repentance.' 2 Pet. ii. 9. It is God, in his mercy, who holds these of his departure, it is supposed that our Lord acthey appeared very deeply afflicted in the prospect awful fires in check. It is God who puts his great hand, so to speak, upon the smoking crevices of the cordingly seized this as a choice opportunity for heaving earth, and bridles in the smothered flames, till reminding them that it remained for them to prove all the purposes of his grace are accomplished, till the the sincerity of those professions, and the constancy great moral crisis of the world has come, and then its of that affection, by "keeping his commandments," physical crisis will come in a twinkling. Then the when his presence was no longer visible, and that impatient fires will be let loose, and the whole frame voice was silent which had so oft and so earnestly of nature will be speedily dissolved. In view of the interesting and important coincidences admonished, animated, and encouraged them. In here noticed between geology and revelation, it surely this view of our text, it is as if our Lord had said, is not enough to say of the former science, that it is "If, then, ye really love me, if these professions are not inconsistent with revealed religion. It is the hand- true, and that attachment be actually founded in maid of revealed religion. Its voice, on a great many principle, and be not merely a burst of sympapoints, is but the echo of that louder and more intelli-thetic emotion, remember that it will show itself gible word, which proceeded from ancient men of God, in the future tenor of your lives, and be productive who "spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost." The inquisition which has been made in modern times of a diligent, and dutiful, and most devoted obeinto the interior structure and past history of the earth, dience." demonstrates that the God of nature is the God of the Bible, and that this holy book may be depended on, as a faithful exposition of his truth and will. The time is within the recollection of many now living, when infidel writers were confident in their anticipations that the discoveries of the geologist would overthrow utterly the system of revealed truth. Brydone, Voltaire, and the French infidels generally, exulted in the belief, that a light was beaming from the bowels of the earth, which would confound the advocates of Scripture, and explode utterly the Christian revelation. The issue of these high and boastful expectations is now before us. The investigations of geologists have been prosecuted, as they should have been, with the utmost ardour. Every accessible point, whether of mountain height or of ocean depth; of mine or cavern; of island, shore, or volcanic steep, has been explored; and the conclusions of all respectable geologists are now decidedly in favour of Christianity. The more distinguished geologists, both of America, and of Europe, are professed Christians. Several of them are Christian ministers. Instances might be mentioned, in which geological investigations have served to remove doubts in regard to the divine authority of our sacred books, and confirm the unsettled faith of the sceptical inquirer. And why should they not? The coincidences which we have traced between the teachings of geology and those of revela But, though I would not assert positively against what seems to be the received opinion, that that is not the meaning of our text, I would submit to your consideration that it rather appears to me, that while that is the real import of the twentyfirst verse, the meaning of our text is materially different, and so much so as not merely to vary, but also considerably to enrich the import and augment the practical cogency of the whole passage. It appears to me that, when our Lord says, in the twenty-first verse, "He that hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me," he very directly proposes the consideration which I have just been referring to. Delivering that statement in the form of a doctrinal proposition, intending thereby to excite believers at large to a godly jealousy as to the depth and permanency of their fresh flowing emotions, he directs them to a course of consistent obedience as necessary to put the question of their sincerity beyond all doubt, and ascertain definitively their character as his peculiar chosen. The meaning of our text, however, appears, in my view, materially different, as I have already said, from the undoubted of his Church that his Father might be glori fied; and how elevated was Christ's judgment or opinion as to the state of moral feeling in that Church when, calling these its primitive representatives around him now, he could think of no other appeal half so likely to move them as this, by which he simply asks their obedience as a token of personal kindness, and a compensation which he On the meaning of that twenty-first verse. And I conceive it to result, as naturally as possible, from the tenor of our Lord's discourse in the preceding verses. For, besides receiving many assurances of the ardour of their attachment, and witnessing many natural signs of the deep distress and dejection which his approaching departure, as oft as he spake of it, did very visibly call forth, our Lord, you perceive, in the twelfth, thirteenth, and four-could not but think they were more than willing teenth verses, that is, in the verses immediately to yield him. And just as did you hear of a friend preceding this one,--had been tendering to his dis- on his death-bed, or a father on his death-bed, callciples such immensely generous and immeasurable ing his children around him and committing thus promises, as were best of all fitted to call their love to their charge some one most special interest into present exercise, and make them feel at the which they had observed to engross him during the moment that he had laid them already, and would whole of life,-just as did you see that dying father continue to lay them, under accumulating obliga- reminding his disconsolate family of the kindness tions, which could never be thought upon without he had shown them up to this very hour of his affecting their hearts. He had just told them of going away, and then, after simply making menthe transcendent and even yet unprecedented mani- tion of that one special interest which still engrossed festations of miraculous power which they should him, suppose he were to add, "If, then, my chilbe clothed with through faith in his name; and to dren, ye love me, you will mind this one concern, this he bad added the asseveration, twice repeated, and suffer nothing to withdraw you from pursuing because of its surpassing and almost incredible it stedfastly," you would be far indeed from imaliberality, that absolutely he would do any thing gining that that man designed to suggest any whatever which they, as his believing disciples, doubt of his children's regard for him. might think it needful to ask him. And then, you contrary, you would understand well, that, countwill observe, it is when they must be supposed to ing on the affection of those children, who wept to have the fullest, freshest, most lively, and over-think of a separation, he was addressing them now whelming sense of their obligations to him; then it is that he tells them, in the words of our text, what was the object which even then, as always, lay next to his own heart, so that, by attending to that one object, they would do him, as it were, a personal kindness, and make him some return by forwarding that re-establishment of the reign of his Father's law, and that restoration of peace and righteousness in this miserable world, for the compassing of which he had left the heavens, and which, now that he was returning to the heavens again, continued to be dear to him as existence itself. He thus proposes their "keeping the commandments," not as necessary to prove the sincerity of their professions, and prevent their falling back into some ruinous delusion, but he proposes their "keeping the commandments" as all the return he sought for those immeasurable promises; as the one grand object on which his own affections centered, and to the attainment of which, therefore, they who were at that moment so sensible of their obligations to him, would assuredly direct their most earnest Instead, therefore, of prescribing here a test of their love, he points out the way in which that love so unquestionable might most richly be gratified, adjuring them by that gratitude, which they could not but at the moment feel, to attend to his commandments, as his own personal interest, and as they would watch over the concerns commended to their care by his last dying request. And thus, brethren, instead of being led here, as I should have been, by the twenty-first verse, to point out the necessary indissoluble connection, in the very nature of things, between love and obedience, I am as naturally led to consider how intense and ever burning was Christ's desire for the sanctifying aim. peculiarly as his children and his own. Now, just in the same way, according to our view, our Lord, in this verse, suggests the two following, out of many others, as suitable and appropriate inferences. In the first place, how peculiar, in such a selfish, hard-hearted world as ours is, must needs be Christ's people, when, according to Christ's own judgment of them, their love for Him furnishes the broadest, the firmest, and every way the surest basis on which he can submit any duty to them. Our Lord was, as I have said, like a father on his death-bed, seeking out for the weightiest of all arguments, the most solid and most lasting of all possible considerations, by which to decide and bind down those men for ever to a life of holy obedience resembling his own; and it is surely very remarkable, that present, as were to His mind, all possible arguments within the whole compass of thought, he chose the very one which such a father would choose, when, observing how tenderly his children loved him, and how they could not think of a separation, and would not for the world refuse | behoves us all to inquire, whether really the inhim any thing to make him happy, he adjures terests of Jesus Christ our Lord would be safe in them by that very love to him, to mind always our hands, were he to peril them with us on the the great concern, and look to the family interest, strength of the same attachment. I do not wish and hold themselves as if bound to it by their very to inquire whether, if all other motives were conlove for himself. Surely Jesus Christ, when he clusively withdrawn from the sanction and supspake thus, reckoned on there being in these men port of a holy life, and nothing but our love to a love for himself in no wise less active or less Christ were left to influence us, that love, so natrust-worthy than are the instincts of nature. ked and so stripped of all subsidiary motives, would There might be much less of a trembling, thril- be found to be competent. It were exceedingly ling, transporting, and ever-glowing emotion, but unwise to make any such supposition, which can there was at least equal vigour and stability, and never become the subject of actual experiment, in all that is requisite to determine a man's mind uni- time or eternity; inasmuch as the word of God formly and unalterably to the main purpose comwill ever continue to address to us more than one mended to him. One might have rather thought, class of statements, and the soul of man will never that, among a world of selfish men, Jesus Christ, be so impoverished as to be susceptible of only one seeking to make his very last and most effective uniform and unvarying series of emotions. I impression, would have sought, as he often did, so merely wish that we should ask ourselves, wheto interweave his cause, and so perfectly to iden- ther, when all our actuating motives to obedience tify it with the selfishness of man's heart, that are summoned into play, is a concern for Christ's every man might see clearly that he never could honour and advantage at the head of these moseparate the one of these from the other; and that tives? What place does it occupy? Are we even the only way of securing his own safety, is for sure it is there at all? If you have not made this the glory of his God to keep the holy command- experiment, I pray you to make it now; for if ments, doing unto others as he would have others your heart will not stand this test, so that when do unto him." But though Jesus Christ does all your motives are really sifted and summoned make that appeal to man's selfishness very com- forth for inspection, the chiefest, and foremost, monly, and at every turn when he must speak and mightiest of them all, is not a concern for merely in an interesting, awakening, or reproving your Redeemer's rights and your Redeemer's adstrain, whether to his people, or to the world, vantage; then you cannot but know, that you are what can be plainer than that when these his own miserably unprepared for the final day of examinpeople are really awakened, and in earnest to hear ation, when a full account will be demanded of all him, he counts upon making absolutely more of that you have done or suffered for the glory of their love for Himself than of all other motives his name. And when on that day you shall bewhich he could ever employ. As soon might a du- hold those placed on His right hand, who were tiful affectionate family cease to concern themselves constrained to a holy life by regard for their Reabout their dying father's request, as these blessed deemer, as loving children are constrained to any disciples would forget the force of the appeal thing by a dying parent's request, how shall you urged by their Redeemer, when about to depart escape the everlasting shame and confusion of that to his Father and their Father, he left with them day, as it is told you that you yielded to every this entreaty: "If ye love me, keep my command-good, and generous, and praise worthy motive but ments." Many things else they might forget. All things else they might forget. They might forget the world. They might forget each other. They might almost forget their own interests altogether, ere ever that most mighty and peculiar pleading for good works could be effaced from their memories. And ever as they called to mind how Christ had besought them, by all the love which they bore him, "to keep the commandments," putting it thus upon the footing of a personal kindness, and condescending to ask it as a favour personally to himself, they could not but resume, with fresh alacrity and ever-growing enthusiasm, their labours of love in the way of all the commandments, as men who could truly say, Let our right hand forget her cunning, and our tongue cleave to the roof of our mouth, if we forget these holy commandments of our God; yea, if we prefer not these commandments above our very chiefest joy. Now, before going further, and taking up the consideration of any other of the reflections suggested so obviously by this view of our text, it one,-and that the great motive of gratitude to Him who laid aside his glory, and left the bosom of the Father to seek after and to save you! The only other reflection which I shall detain you with illustrating, and I shall do it but very briefly, is that other which I have already noticed in the course of these remarks, namely, how intense and unremitting, and how decidedly paramount to every other which may have actuated his mind, was not the Redeemer's desire for the sanctification of his people, that, as he himself declares in the foregoing verses, through him and his finished work "his Father might be glorified." In perusing the Scriptures, whether of the Old or New Testaments, we are ever and anon called upon to remember that, notwithstanding all that is declared about the compassions of God for the sufferings of men, it is not the removal of these sufferings, but of the sins which occasion them, that is the ultimate purpose of the administration by Christ. We are constantly reminded that though, in the natural judgment of such corrupt creatures as we, deliverance from punishment called now to behold him throwing the whole weight of his personal influence, so to speak, in favour of his Father's law, and imploring men, by the love which they felt for himself, to award the like love and reverence for his Father's holy commandments, even so, brethren, let every one of you turn to the same account whatever affection for yourselves any are pleased to bestow. Let parents, for example, and let every mother especially, keep urging that argument, as none so well as a mother can, upon the hearts of their children, pleading solemnly and affectionately, as Christ did, "If, then, you really love us, or think that you owe us any thing, keep the commandments of our God, and especially bethink yourselves of this first and great commandment under the constitution of a fallen world, to believe on that Redeemer whom the Father hath sent you.” Let masters of a generous mind in other matters, so that they do and must have a firm place in the affections of the whole household around them, let them try and turn that affection to the same account, and in the very same way as Christ did. Let friends, and companions, and brothers, and sisters, and, in a word, every creature who has a firm place in the affections of another being besides, try thus to turn that affection to his Sa would be a far greater mercy than deliverance from sin, supposing, for the sake of illustration, that the one could be effected without the other, yet, according to the judgment of a holy God, it is otherwise. And nothing, accordingly, is more remarkable in the manifestations of the mind of Christ, than his unceasing desire not to shield his people from affliction, but to sanctify them by means of it, and to present them to the Father "a glorious Church, not having spot or wrinkle, or any such thing." Although, there fore, I do not say that Christ now, in this particular instance, gave the greatest of all proofs of the weight with which the consideration of that great interest ever pressed upon his heart,-for, in the midst of so many and various proofs, it were presumption to do so,-yet, were I asked now to produce some one grand and commanding instance of his overruling desire for the sanctifying of his own, I would go no farther than the passage before us. I would refer the inquirer to the solemn words of my text, and, quoting again that parallel instance from common life and well-known feeling which I have employed to illustrate it, I would ask him to say, whether our Lord could well have given a more memorable proof of his desire for the progressive and perfect sanctifying of his own, than when, like a parent on his death-viour's account, entreating them, just as Christ bed, he commended to them the great concern, and charged them for His sake, as it were, to look to the family, putting their obedience thus upon the footing of a personal kindness, as being all the compensation he really asked, as it was the only compensation with which he would be satisfied; reminding them, in effect, that if they cherished any love for him, and felt ever inclined to return him any kindness, then all he had to ask was, that they would, as it were, transfer that love to the commandments of his Father's law, and bestow that kindness in caring for, and adorning with every Christian grace, their own souls, and those souls of his brethren, whom he had given himself to redeem. Surely, surely, my brethren, did we more frequently call to mind that such was in very deed, and still continues to be, the anxiety of Jesus Christ our Lord, that as many as follow him should be signalized by good works, and shine as lights in the world, surely, did we oftener think of this, it would not seldom reanimate our all but expiring zeal, and carry us up to a pitch of most holy devotedness. And, therefore, I pray you to secure it a permanent and most conspicuous place among your ordinary thoughts. Let but the thought of Christ's so fervent desire to signalize you by a holy and generous life, liker always his own,-let the thought of that but show itself, and it will quell many selfish clamours, from mortified pride and disappointed ambition, and make you proof against temptations, when else the world, and your own deceitful hearts, would constrain you to be conformed to the world which lieth in wickedness. Nay, more, do you follow in this very thing Christ's precious example. And as you have been did, by all the love which they bear you, to do many good works, and think habitually of that Redeemer. I will not say, brethren, what were the issue, supposing that to be practised generally throughout the Church, for we know too well that, to any so great extent, this is not to be counted on. But of those who make the attempt in good earnest, and sustain it perseveringly and with good will, we say, as we are taught by this passage, that, inasmuch as they love Christ indeed, they are loved of His Father, and "whatsoever they shall ask in the name of Christ, that will he do for them, that the Father may be glorified in the Son." ERASMUS AND LUTHER. IT is scarcely possible to conceive two characters more dissimilar than the two individuals whose names we have prefixed to the present article. The period at which they appeared was one full of the most intense interest among the nations of Europe, when God was about to avenge his own cause, and by the glorious events of the Reformation, to shake to its foundations the proud superstructure of the Popish hierarchy, that masterpiece of Satan's craft and skill. A very lively and animated description of the part which Erasmus and Luther severally took in protesting against the errors of the apostate Church, and in asserting the pure principles of the Protestant faith, is given by D'Aubigné, a recent writer on the history of the Reformation, whose work is one of the most fascinating pieces of history which has come under our notice for a very long time. We strongly recommend it to the attention of our readers, more especially at the present time, when the grand principles of the Reformation are beginning to be called in question in some of |