an exhortation, to which a most gracious promise is annexed-" Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life :" "He that overcometh shall not be hurt by the second death;" he shall not have his portion in the lake that burneth, which is that second death. On the contrary, life shall be his portion-life eternal, in the everlasting presence of the infinite Jehovah-life which shall know no end, for there shall be no more death, neither any more pain, neither any more separation, to mar the felicity of the ransomed-life, the unmerited gift of the gracious Saviour, and not the merited wages even of faithfulness itself. "I will give thee a crown of life."

The epistle directed to this Church, as we have said, is one of comm endation; and it is a remarkable circumstance, that there are, at the present time, more Christians in Smyrna, than at any other place in that portion of the world. Not, indeed, that the flame of religion burns so brightly or purely as could be wished; for, alas! it has been at times reduced to a faint, and almost indistinct, glimmer: but the candlestick has never been wholly removed. There has always been a remnant, to shew forth the former splendour of this

once-consistent Church.

The following statement, as to its condition, when visited by Mr. Hartley twelve years ago, cannot fail to prove interesting. The picture is indeed melancholy, yet not without hope that a brighter and happier day may yet dawn upon this once-favoured spot, and that more abundant fruit may be gathered in this corner of the vineyard of the Lord.

"The Church of Smyrna," says Mr. Hartley, "is represented as contending with most severe sufferings-poverty, slander, and persecution: but Modern Smyrna is a far greater sufferer. The former things have passed away: the faithful Smyrnæans have long since fought their battle, and won their crown; but now the evils are of a different order-apostacy, idolatry, superstition, infidelity, and their tremendous consequences. On whatever side we look, we meet only with what is calculated to excite painful feelings. The religion now predominant was unknown in the days when Polycarp was martyred; and, unlike the paganism of Rome, which disappeared and fell before Christianity, still maintains its seat, and lords it over those countries where the Redeemer suffered, and where his Gospel was first proclaimed. Rome is the only place of importance mentioned in the Scriptures which has not been for centuries under the Mahomedan yoke.

"The population of Smyrna has been estimated at 100,000, and even more: the practice, however, of exaggerating the population, which is so general in this country, has extended, I conceive, to this enumeration. I do not think that Smyrna contains many more than 75,000 inhabitants. Perhaps there may be 45,000 Turks, 15,000 Greeks, 8000 Armenians, 8000 Jews, and less than 1000 Europeans. The mosques are more than twenty. The Greeks have three churches; the Armenians, one; the Latins, two; the Protestants, two. The Jews have several synagogues.

"Mr. Jowett has given us an interesting account of the Greeks in these parts, in his Christian Researches in the Mediterranean:' I regret to say, that, at present, a cloud has darkened that pleasing picture.

The universities of Scio and Haivali, which promised to be the cradle of Grecian learning and religion, have been destroyed; and a check has been given to education, which there are but slender hopes to see repaired. Smyrna has participated in the general miseries of Greece: no longer do we find Economus giving instruction to his young countrymen; and in vain do we look for any institution which is calculated to assist the studies of the rising population. I am happy, however, to remark that the Evangelical School' still exists; an institution which owes its perpetuity to English protection, and which, if it be not calculated to lead the pupil into the field of extensive knowledge, prevents him at least from being sunk in utter ignorance. I had the pleasure of frequent intercourse with the master of this school, and found him one of the most liberal ecclesiastics whom I have met with in the eastern communion: the num ber of his pupils is about 150; but they are all very young, and their education is little more than elementary. In addition to this establishment, the Greek youths of Smyrna have no other means of acquiring knowledge than what is furnished by very inferior day-schools, and by private instruction.

"During a residence of more than four months in Smyrna, I enjoyed continual opportunities of imparting religious instruction. My excellent friend, Mr. King, found occasions of usefulness still more extensive; and I am persuaded that the Divine blessing has attended his exertions. We both are fully convinced of the importance of a stationary missionary being appointed to this place: unless, indeed, the occasional endeavours of missionary visits should be followed up by permanent exertion, there is every reason to fear that the seed which has been sown will not bear fruit to perfection. May it please God very speedily to bestow on the Church of Smyrna a faithful Protestant minister, who may deem it his delight and his honour to emulate the example of Polycarp on the very ground on which that revered martyr lived and died!

"Smyrna will ever be to the Christian a most interesting spot. The conflict which was maintained here was one of no common description. It was not only Polycarp himself who was the gainer by his sufferings: on the firmness of the Christian martyrs depended, under Divine Providence, the transmission of the truth to the latest generations. Had they yielded to the fury of their foes, and denied the Lord who bought them, we should have been still immersed in the ignorance of our forefathers- without God and without hope in the world.' We do well, then, to cherish the memory of these faithful servants of God: it is just for us to bless the Most High for his grace bestowed upon them. I must confess that I tread the ground, which has been signalised by the death of a Christian martyr, with unspeakably more delight than I should visit the plain of Marathon. Here was a conflict, not for the liberty which is merely co-existent with the span of human life, but for a freedom which is eternal! Here without arms, without allies-the world and its gods were vanquished! Here was honour won -not that empty bubble which fallen man admires, but that exceeding and eternal weight of glory' which God has prepared for his faithful servants."

It may be well for the Christian believer to ask him

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self what evidence he has that the tenour of his life and conversation is such, as, like that of the members of the Church of Smyrna, will gain the commendation of his adorable Saviour. Assuredly, the true believer is warranted to take for his comfort the consoling promise of grace and power vouchsafed to this ancient Church. The Saviour, who was dead, and is alive, hath been the dwelling-place and refuge of his people in every age of the world. None have ever been confounded who have put their trust in him. "Fear not," is his gracious language, for I have redeemed thee. I have called thee by my name; thou art mine: when thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle upon thee: for I am the LORD thy GOD, the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour." The believer may, therefore, go on his way rejoicing. Whatever be the evils through which he may be compelled to pass, it is his privilege to lean on the arm of One mighty to save. In the world he must expect to have tribulation; but he is of good cheer, for Jesus hath "overcome the world."

Biography.

THE LIFE OF JOHN JEWEL, BISHOP OF SALISBURY. [Concluded from No. XXII.]

THE labours of Jewel in his new situation as a bishop were unremitting. His office was, indeed, one neither of ease nor even of emolument; for his predecessor, Capon by name, an unprincipled man, who, after conforming under Edward VI., became one of the bloody actors in the Marian persecution, had so impoverished the see, that there was scarcely a living left to it sufficient for the maintenance of a learned man. "The Capon,"

Jewel used pleasantly to say, "has devoured all."

And the state of destitution in which he found his diocese was very grievous. After he had been some time settled there, he wrote to his friend Gualter, "that he now felt what a load government was to him who had led his life in the shade, and at study, and had never turned his thoughts to government; but he would make up in his diligence what might be otherwise wanting that the opposition, however, he met with from the rage of the papists was incredible." To supply, as far as possible, the want of able ministers, he visited and preached himself in all parts of his diocese. When it was evident that his strength was unequal to such incessant labours, and his friends entreated him to remit this care to others, he replied, that unlearned men would be of no service, and that he could not expect to obtain the help of learned men, since he had no suitable benefices, through the conduct of his predecessor, to bestow upon them. But

his diligence in preaching did not withdraw his attention from other duties. In order more effectually to reform abuses, he sat very often with his chancellor, and was president in his consistory court. His conduct here may be judged of from a letter to his old tutor Parkhurst, bishop of Norwich.

"Let your

chancellor be harder, but you easier; let him wound, but do you heal; let him lance, do you plaster; wise clemency will do more good than rigid severity; one man may move more with an engine, than six with the force of their hands."

It was in his writings, however, that Jewel did most service to the Church of Christ These remain a noble monument of his zeal, and learning, and piety, an invaluable treasure to succeeding ages; so that, as has been well said, "at this very day the champions of our Church may find weapons of proof ready for

their use in Jewel's armory." In the early part of 1560, he delivered his famous sermon at Paul's Cross, in which he threw out the bold challenge, that if any learned man among the Romanists, or all the learned men that were alive, would bring one sufficient sentence out of any old Catholic doctor or father, or out of any old general council, or out of the holy Scriptures, or any one example of the primitive Church, whereby it might clearly be proved the Romish doctrine of the mass, and the superstitions connected therewith, were known any where in the world within the space of six hundred years after Christ, he would then yield and subscribe. Not Paul's Cross alone, according to the prediction of his tutor, but all Europe rang with this challenge. It was accepted; but to the complete discomfiture of his antagonists. His " Apology of the Church of England" was begun in 1561, and finished the next year; and was so highly esteemed, that being originally written in Latin, it was speedily translated into English by Lady Bacon, wife of the Lord Keeper, and also into German, French, Italian, and Spanish, that it might be in every man's hands. It was approved by the convocation at home, and it had the at least equal honour of being censured by the council of Trent. In 1564 and 1565, Jewel was engaged in his controversy with Harding respecting his challenge just alluded to and in the succeeding years, 1566 and 1567, he had to defend his "Apology against the same opponent. Besides these voluminous productions, we have from his unwearied pen sermons, treatises on the sacrament, on the holy Scriptures, expositions of the Epistles to the Thessalonians, &c. &c. So that scarcely any year appears to have passed that "was not made illustrious for some famous work set out in it by him."

Few other men would have had time for such varied labours; but Jewel had been accustomed to commence his studies at four in the morning, and to continue them till ten at night; his very recreations had been studious; and his mind was of such strength, that it could bear a continued strain without losing its elastic vigour. So well, too, had he digested and arranged his reading, that the stores of his knowledge were always ready for his use: and his memory, naturally strong, he had, by artificial helps, rendered amazingly retentive. Very remarkable instances are recorded of this faculty. The bishop of Norwich once, for a trial of his powers, gave him many hard and barbarous names out of a calendar; and Hooper, bishop of Gloucester, proposed to him forty strange words, Welsh, Irish, &c.: in both which cases, after once or twice reading the list, and a short consideration, he repeated them accurately both backwards and forwards. And what was still more surprising, the Lord Keeper Bacon just read to him the last clauses of ten lines in Erasinus's Paraphrase, in a confused and broken order; and Jewel having sat silent a few minutes, and covered his face with his hand, repeated the right way, and the contrary, all those broken parcels of sentences, without the slightest mistake or hesitation. This method of improving the memory he professed himself able to communicate; and, in fact, he did so effectually teach it to his former tutor Parkhurst, that by giving, for no long time, an hour a day to the study, he was able to repeat both backwards and forwards all the Gospels. Jewel found his strength of memory of admirable service. He could recite with perfect accuracy any thing he wrote after once reading it over; and hence he is said, when the bells began ringing for service, to have usually begun learning his sermons by heart: and he was accustomed to assert, that if he had precomposed a speech, he could repeat exactly all that he intended to speak, even though a thousand people were shouting or fighting before him all the while.

The account left us of Jewel's domestic life is very interesting. At his meals, a chapter being first read,

he delighted in the disputations of young scholars; for, besides contributing to maintain several students at the university-among whom HOOKER was onehe had always in his house six or more youths, taken, for their promising parts and dispositions, from humble life, to receive a learned education. Those who excelled in the discussions just mentioned, he rewarded, and their preceptors also. After meals, the bishop attended to suits and causes, and such business as might present itself. At nine in the evening, having called his household together, he inquired of his servants how they had spent the day; and after prayers admonished them accordingly. Then he retired to his study for some time before he went to bed; and then, after some book had been read to him by the gentleman of his bedchamber, "commending himself to the protection of his Saviour, he took his rest."

Jewel's life, measured by years, was not to be long; but it might truly be said of him, that he lived much in a short time. He appears himself not to have anticipated a protracted life; and in his letters to his friends for some time prior to his last sickness, he repeatedly expressed his solemn conviction that death was not far distant. For instance, in 1570, having written to the bishop of Norwich respecting the decease of Alley, bishop of Exeter, he added, " and I must follow him, the lean bishop the fat." And in another letter, he said,-" I would to God we might meet and talk together; but now it is too late, it makes not much matter: I hope we shall see one the other in heaven. Flux, flux, that is, (in the German tongue) quick, quick, make haste; if you make any delay, I shall prevent you." In the early part of the year, too, in which he died, he wrote, "there is a rumour of the calling a parliament, which if it be true, then perhaps we shall embrace one the other before death; my death, I say, not yours; for you shall yet in this life sing the strong and immortal God." Assuredly Jewel had long before set his house in order, and was prepared, as a faithful servant, to welcome that summons which should call him to the joy of his Lord.

And his "last works" were "more than the first." For, having returned from a conference in London, he set about a new visitation of his whole diocese, more exact than any heretofore. In this, he was more particular in correcting evils, more circumspect in conferring orders, more unwearied and frequent in preaching. In such labours he brought his enfeebled body so low, that as he was riding to preach at Laycock, in Wiltshire, a gentleman, one of his friends, advised him to return home for his health's sake. Such continued journeying and preaching, he urged, must, especially in his weak condition of body, endanger his life; and it was surely far better that the people should lose one sermon than lose altogether such a pastor. But Jewel replied to his anxious monitor in memorable words,-" It becometh best a bishop to die preaching in the pulpit." He almost literally fulfilled them. For, not choosing to disappoint the congregation, he proceeded to the church, and ascended the pulpit. His text was Galatians, v. 16: "Walk in the Spirit." He was himself "now nothing but spirit," we are told, "his flesh being pined away and exhausted." It was not without difficulty that he could finish his sermon; and almost immediately after, his disease so much increased, that he was forced to take to his bed, seeing very plainly that his last hour was approaching.

In the beginning of this illness he had made his will, bequeathing certain legacies to his brother and his other friends, but bestowing the greater part of what he possessed on his servants, his scholars, and the poor of Salisbury. Then, on the following Saturday, when his bodily strength was almost gone, and nature was fast failing, he called his household around him; and after an exposition of the Lord's prayer, he thus addressed

them: "I see I am now to go the way of all flesh, and I feel the arrows of death already fastened in my body; wherefore I am desirous, in few words, while yet my most merciful God vouchsafeth me the use of my tongue, to speak unto you all. It was my prayer always unto Almighty God, since I had any understanding, that I might honour his name with the sacrifice of my flesh, and confirm his truth with the oblation of this my body unto death in the defence thereof; which, seeing he hath not granted me in this, yet I somewhat rejoice and solace myself that it is worn away and exhausted in the labours of my holy calling. For while I visit the people of God, God, my God, hath visited me. With Mr. Harding, who provoked me first, I have contended in my writings, not to detract from his credit and estimation, nor to patronise any error to my knowledge, nor to gain the vain applause of the world; but, according to my poor ability, to do my best services to God and his Church. My last sermon at Paul's Cross, and conference about the ceremonies and state of our Church, were not to please any man living, nor to grieve any of my brethren who are of a contrary opinion; but only to this end, that neither part might prejudice the other, and that the love of God might be shed in the hearts of all the brethren, through the Spirit that is given us. And I beseech Almighty God, of his infinite mercy, to convert or confound the head of all these evils, and ringleader of all rebellious disorders and schisms, the bishop of Rome, who, wheresoever he setteth foot, soweth seeds of strife and contentions. I beseech him also long to preserve the queen's majesty, to direct and protect her council, to maintain and increase godly pastors, and to grant to his whole Church unity and godly peace. Also I beseech you all that are about me, and all others whom I ever offended, to forgive me. now that my hour is at hand, and all my moisture dried up, I most earnestly desire of you all this last duty of love,-to pray for me, and help me with the ardency of your affection, when you perceive me, through the infirmity of my flesh, to languish and wax

And

cold in my prayers. Hitherto I have taught you, and many others: now the time is come wherein I may and desire to be taught and strengthened by every one of you." It was not without great difficulty and pain, and many stops and interruptions, that the dying bishop spoke these words; and then, exhausted with the effort he had made, he desired his friends to sing the 71st Psalm, " In thee, O Lord, I put my trust; let me never be confounded;" and he himself tried to join in it as well as he could. And when they repeated the verse, "Thou art my hope, O Lord God, my trust even from my youth," he exclaimed, "Thou only wast my whole hope!" and again, at the words, " Cast me not off in the time of age; forsake me not when my strength faileth me; yea, even to mine old age and grey head, forsake me not, O God!" "he is an old man," said he; "he is truly grey-headed, and his strength faileth him, who lieth on his death-bed." And then, as his faltering breath allowed him, he kept uttering short and earnest ejaculations, "Lord, take from me my spirit! Lord, now let thy servant depart in peace! Break off all delays! Suffer thy servant to come unto thee! Command him to be with thee! Lord, receive my spirit!" It was a glorious spectacle to behold the departing saint thus struggling with death, and, in Christ's strength, gaining fast the victory; yet his friends could not, as they stood around his bed, restrain their deep and bitter sorrow at being bereaved of a pastor so beloved; and one began, with many sobs and tears, audibly to pray that, if it might stand with God's good pleasure, he would restore him to his former health. But little would the mariner, just entering his desired port, be pleased to be cast back again upon the stormy sea: so Jewel, now just upon the threshold of heavenly glory, wished not to be drawn down any more to the earth; and theres

fore, turning his eyes quickly, as if in kind reproof, on him who had uttered the prayer, he said, applying to himself the words of St. Ambrose, "I have not lived so that I am ashamed to live longer; neither do I fear to die, because we have a merciful Lord. A crown of righteousness (he proceeded) is laid up for me. Christ is my righteousness. Father, let thy will be done; thy will, I say, and not my will, which is imperfect and depraved. O Lord, confound me not! This is my to-day: this day quickly let me come unto thee: this day let me see the Lord Jesus!" These were his last articulate words; and then, after a few more inward prayers, and sighs of longing desire to be with the Lord, his liberated spirit left its tabernacle of clay, and was carried rejoicingly "unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and church of the first-born which are written in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus the mediator of the new covenant." His death took place Sept. 22, 1571: his age was 49. Ridley, the steward of his horse, had the melancholy satisfaction of closing his beloved master's eyes. Thus lived and thus died Bishop Jewel. "Let me die the death of the righteous," every heart may well respond, "and let my last end be like his!"

This Jewel," says one of his biographers, "is not lost, which Christ hath taken from off the ring of his spouse, which is his Church, and set it in a crown of purest gold upon her head, which is himself, the Saviour of his elect, where he shineth in glory for evermore. Lord, adorn and enrich continually thy Church with such Jewels."

Little need be here added to this great man's history. Dear will his remembrance ever be to those who consider in what perilous times he lived, and how vast is the debt which, under God, we owe to him and to his fellow-soldiers in their arduous warfare; and if any human eulogy be needed for him, Jewel has it in the expressive words of his grateful Richard Hooker, who terms him "the worthiest divine that Christendom hath bred for the space of hundreds of years." S.

ASSUMPTION OF THE VEIL AT

AVRANCHES.*

THE chapel of the convent was divided into two parts, separated by a grille, or kind of iron railwork. Beyond this partition no persons, except those belonging to the convent, were allowed to pass. The inner sanctuary was occupied by the nuns, attired in the dress with which they contrive to disfigure, and almost entirely to hide, their persons; and by the little girls belonging to the school which they keep, all dressed in white, each with a basket of flowers suspended from her neck, and a tiara of the same materials tastefully inwreathing their heads. These elegant little creatures were thus ornamented in order to represent the angels. Soon after nine the service commenced with singing-the nuns all walking slowly round their division of the chapel, and chanting as they moved, with large lighted tapers in their hands. The priests in the meanwhile stood by the altar, at the other end of the chapel. The four candidates for the veil stood facing the congregation, just opposite the passage, between the two portions of the chapel. Two of them were of a respectable rank in society, and appeared to be from twenty to twenty-five years of age. They were both dressed in full bridal attire; and one of them was a fine young woman. peared to be in the enjoyment of high health and spirits-looking perfectly cheerful, though there was nothing light or trifling in her demeanour. The two other females belonged to the lower class of society, and were not so interesting in their appearance.

She ap

From First Impressions on the Continent, by John Davies, B.D.

Within a short time, the senior officiating priest approached towards the door, and presented each of them with a large wax candle, which they reverently held before them. After mass had been celebrated, the chaplain of the convent, a Mons. Dubois, mounted the pulpit, and with very considerable fluency and force delivered a discourse appropriate to the occasion. He had no book or notes of any kind before him. Having commenced with a few general remarks bearing on the subject, he selected for his text the account of our Saviour's transfiguration. I acknowledge I was a good deal shocked at the manner in which he proceeded to compare our adorable Redeemer's change of appearance, when the celestial radiance glowed on his countenance, with that which these deluded young women were about to undergo. He assured these his chères sœurs, however, that it was the Holy Spirit alone, who could have excited in them the desire thus to devote themselves to the Lord, and frequently exclaimed, in a kind of oratorical rapture Changement sublime! Having pointed out to them the peculiar dangers and difficulties incident to the honourable condition which they had chosen, the preacher forcibly exhibited to their view the consolations and supports which they were entitled to expect, and the ecstatic joys which they would often experience amidst the aspirations of their secret orisons. He then directed his address to the worldly part of his audience, and depicted with great force the trials, temptations, and miseries, attendant on a life of secularity and earthly occupation. At this part of his discourse, he repelled, or attempted to repel, with vehement indignation, the "calumnies" heaped on these institutions, and took occasion to pour out a somewhat violent philippic against those who had abandoned the unity of the Church, alleging that Christ had established but one Church-not two or more Churches-and therefore that they who refused to listen to the Church, refused to listen to Christ himself. This discourse, which, with a considerable proportion of Romish infusion, really contained much excellent matter, concluded with an earnest appeal to the audience, that they would advance towards heaven with fidelity and perseverance-frequently reiterating the spirit-stirring exhortation, " Marchons avec le flambeau de la foi-avec le flambeau de l'éternité." These flambeaux, I presume, had reference to the numberless blazing torches with which the sun was aided in giving us light on this fine summer's day.

After the sermon was over, the four candidates were successively conducted by the abbess to the senior priest, at the door of the inner chapel, when he questioned each of them, according to the appointed formasking them first, Ma fille, que demandez-vous? When the candidate had suitably replied to this question, he proceeded to demand of her the usual vows of chastity, poverty, deadness to the world, conformity to the rules of the house, &c. When all had taken the vows, they retired, and exchanged their white bridal dresses for the proper professional cos tume. In the mean time the priests were employed in consecrating and blessing the veils, and other articles which I shall not attempt to name, forming, however, different parts of these vestal habiliments. When the candidates returned, arrayed in their new attire, it was quite astonishing to observe the complete transformation which they seemed to have undergone. But I thought it any thing but a changement sublime." The white veil was then put on them, and a leathern girdle fastened around their waist by some of the sisterhood, in the presence of the audience. When these matters had been arranged, the four new nuns simultaneously threw themselves prostrate on the ground, with their faces downward, and their arms spread out at full length. Here they lay for some time, perfectly still and motionless, while twelve little personified angels, already mentioned, walked

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6

around them, strewing them all over with flowers, and the other nuns were chanting a sweet and plaintive melody. This was the ceremony of being buried to the world! But I fear that old Adam was not to be thus smothered by flowers. To use an expression of a late extraordinary friend of ours, he was only buried alive,' soon to rise again, possibly, like another Antæus, with renewed vigour, from coming thus in contact with his mother earth. Perhaps, indeed, he was never more actively alive-it is probable that his ear was never more charmed than with the echoes of the funeral dirge chanted over him-that he was never more delightfully regaled than with the fragrant rosebuds which fell so lightly over his frame, as he lay under this process of mock sepulture. After they had lain for some time in this death-like position-only one of them appeared to me to evince any signs of life by some little restlessness-they all started up, shook off their odoriferous burden, and, after a little more singing, the new nuns went round and cordially embraced

each of the sisters in succession. This was the conclusion of the ceremony, and the company retired; each individual occupied with such thoughts and feelings as his previous habits, and the general cast of his character would, in connexion with such an imposing ceremonial, naturally suggest. My own, with some mixture of satisfied curiosity, inclined to pensive and melancholy reflection; directed to this channel, as well by the deplorable recollections associated with this wretched appendage of the papal system, as, in some degree, by the loud sobs of the mother of the most interesting of these four sad victims of mistaken piety. This female stood close to me during the ceremony, and appeared very deeply to feel this act of voluntary seclusion on the part of her daughter. It should be observed, however, that no young person can now be put into this state of ecclesiastical imprisonment against the will of her parents; and the in

mates have the option of leaving the institution at the end of one year and a day from the time of their taking the white veil. If, after this probationary period, they proceed to take the black veil, it is an intimation that they never mean to leave the establishment. Since the great Revolution, however, they have a legal right

to leave when they please.

THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL:
A Sermon,

BY THE REV. HENRY MELVILL, B.D.
Minister of Camden Chapel, Cumberwell.*
HEB. vi. 19.

"Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast, and which entereth into that within the veil."

fellowship with the land than with the sea: and our strongest sympathies are with those who plough its surface, and dare its perils. I feel, therefore, that I never had a charitysermon to preach, whose subject gave me so powerful a hold on the feelings of a congregation; and I think that this hold will not be lessened, if I engage your attention with a passage of Scripture, in which the imagery, if I may use the expression, is peculiarly maritime, whilst the truths which are inculcated are of the most interesting kind. The apostle Paul had just been speaking of "laying hold on the hope set before us," by which he seems to denote the appropriation of those various blessings which have all been procured for us by Christ. The hope is that of eternal life; and to lay hold on this hope, must be so to believe upon Christ, that we have share in those sufferings and merits which purchased forgiveness and immortality for the lost. And when the apostle proceeds, in the words of our text, to describe this hope as an anchor of the soul, we are to understand him as declaring that the expectation of God's favour, and of the glories of heaven, through the atonement and intercession of Christ, is exactly calculated to keep us stedfast and unmoved amid all the tempests of our earthly estate. We shall assume, then, as we are fully warranted by the context in doing, that the hope in question is the hope of salvation, through the finished work of the Mediator. And it will be our chief business to engage you with the metaphorical description which the apostle gives of this hope, and thus aptly to introduce the peculiar claims of the Floating Church. St. Paul likens this hope to an anchor; and then declares of this anchor, or the hope, that it "entereth into that within the veil.' Let these be our topics of dis

course:

The first, that the Christian's hope is as an anchor to his soul.

The second, that this hope, or this anchor, "entereth into that within the veil."

I. Now the idea which is immediately sug

Preached at Trinity Church, Chelsea, July 3, 1836, in behalf of the Episcopal Floating Church.

of our being exposed to great moral peril, tossed on rough waters, and in danger of And we making shipwreck of our faith. must be well aware, if at all acquainted with ourselves and our circumstances, that such idea is in every respect accurate, and that the imagery of a tempest-tossed ship, girt about by the rock and the quicksand, as well as beaten by the hurricane, gives no exaggerated picture of the believer in Christ, as opposition, under various forms, labours at his ruin. We are not, indeed, concerned at present with delineating the progress, but only the stedfastness of the Christian; but here, also, the