The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1853-03-08 00:00:00

THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD, TUESDAY, MARCH 8, 1853. LITERARY GOSSIP. THE PUBLISHING TRADE in England is in a state of general inactivity, so far as the free purchasing of copy rights is concerned. " The causes of this dulness," says a London literateur of note, " are probably numerous, and some of them remote ; but to my mind the primary cause is the alteration in the position of those who were last century called ' authors by profession,' occasioned by the influx into a sort of professional authorship of persons following either other occupations, or no occupations at all." The genuine " professionals " must take up the cri tical flail, and put a stop to this starvation stage of things. THE AUTHORESS OF " VILLETTE," the - hit of the season, is Miss Bronte, the daughter of a Yorkshire clergyman, whose incumbency , lies amid some of the wildest and dreariest of Yorkshire moors, and with whom she lives in literary solitude. AN ECCENTRIC PERSONAL DANDYISM was in earlier years one of the most laughable characteristics of Mr. Bulwer, now Sir Bulwer Lytton. One day, it is said, he would appear all black—a black hat, black wig, complex ion died brown, back buttoned coat, black neckcloth, waistcoat, trousers, boots, stick, gloves—not a speck of white to be seen about him. Another day he would come out all white—flaxen wig, light complexion, with a little rouge, light overcoat, &c., &c., down to a little pair of tight boots, with just one speck of black observed about the toes POOR HADYN'S " Correspondence and Diarits " are on the point of publication, edited by Professor Torn Taylor, who is best known as the writer of those eloquent and spirit-stirring verses on sanatory and other matters in Punch. Professor Taylor, since he quitted the chair of English literature at University College, has been in the enjoyment of an easy and lucrative position under the Board of Health. DAVID AlassoN ' a few years ago editor of the Banner, an obscure Fre e Kirk paper in Aberdeen, has been appointed Professor of English Literature at University College, London. THE AUTHOR OF " VANITY FAIR" is triumphantly pursuing his literary career in the United States. After a long literary life, spent in the emission of cynical satire, Mr. Thackeray seems taking to what is vulgarly called " the conciliatory dodge I" A REAL LIFE RoNrANcE.--INIr. 'Cr •pps, a gentleman formerly nd engaged on res iding in Linton, on his property, w as in an extensive brass manufactory in Lo a youth of seventeen , was employed on the establishment, and son,m and one day chancing to g et hi s ears boxed by his father for for some slight dereliction of d uty , he absented himself, and was never heard of till one d ay last week, when s t e he post brought a letter from th e wa y wa rd , if not prodigal, son, couched in suitable and duti f ul terms , and givin g an account of his life during nearly twenty years' banishment. On absconding he found his way to Sydney, and was there employed in catching wild bullocks, of which he was to have a certain proportion as his share. He is now the possesso r of a large track of land, four hu ndred b easts , and 4 nearly as many horses, all his own ; and , though fatherland to enjoy a respectable competency. South married and settl e d," proposed ere long to return to his Eastern Gazette. GREAT PROTESTANT LECTURE, LAST NIGHT, SO.' THEY SAY THE FI?ENCH ARE COMING! the Right Hon. 'Joseph Napier, LL.D., Q.C., mem ber. of parliam en t f or th e D u bli n U n i vers ity, which is accompanied by a tinted engraving ; a solid, yet readable paper, on the Indian Archipelago; a wreath of ryhmes under the title of " Spring-time Flowers ;" a continuation of the running novel ; some remarks on the recent improvements in the text of Shakspeare ; a tale entitled " Tom Clug gins's Two Antipathies ;" and a powerful defence of Burke's Reflections, from the puny aspersions of that " sharp and shallow demagogue," Richard So! they say the French are coming! If as friends, why let 'em come:— lf as foes, I think they'd better Change their minds and stay at home. Joinville, he who was a Prince once, Talk'd of coming some fine day, Just to pour a broadside in ns, Then to cut and run away Well, it wasn't over civil, P'raps he only spoke in fun : When he'd not a home to go to, Didn't England find him one? Don't we welcome big and little, Ask no questions why they come?— If their own's too hot to hold 'em, Don't they find with us a home? Let 'em then give over crowing, Barking when they mustn't bite : Do they think, because we're peaceful, We've forgotten how to fight ? Waterloo! a pretty reason Why the French should go to war! If they could blot out that story, Can they wipe out Trafalgar? If they will fight, why then let 'em, It's a pity they're such fools : If they really covet Glory, Let them learn in English schools Let 'em use the right of speaking; Let 'em print their thoughts, and then They may throw away their rifles, And be reasonable men .. lei for Glory, We ce don't want to But we'll up . the good we have while an Englishman is left us, England shall not hold a slave. Let these Frenchmen pause a little— If their Bony seeks the fray— Let them ask whose blood must quench it, Whose the pockets that must pay. "Jack's alive," and rough and ready— Friends with all, if friends they'll be— But if not—the strife of battle Must be on our home—the Sea! Nelson's watchword thrills each bosom, — If they seek the deadly fight,— "Every man will do his duty " And may God protect the right.—Clarles Jeffery:. LITEP A_TURE. BOOKS FOR REVIEW, &c.—Books, New Prints, Music, &c intended for review, may be left at Mr. C. Mitchell's, Red lion-court, Fleet-street, London, addressed " to the Editor of the LIVERPOOL STANDARD," when they will be forwarded and receive attention. Digest of the Law of Scotland, with special refe rence to the Office and Duties of a Justice of the Peace. By Hugh Barclay, Sheriff-Substitute of Perthshire. Vol. 11. Edinburgh : T. and T. Clark. The present volume, which completes the above excellent work, fully sustains the high reputation of its predecessor. Both volumes extend to nearly a thousand printed pages ; and coming as they do from the pen of an author already so favourably known to the public by his previous publications, and who has for upwards of a quarter of a century filled the laborious and important office of local judge in one of the most populous counties in Scotland, its value as a practical treatise cannot be over-estimated. Not only does the work contain a faithful digest of all those important matters forming the subject of recent legislation, such as the Poor Laws, Prison Discipline, Nuisances, &c., but every doctrine of any consequence in the law of Scotland, equally as that appertaining specially to the duties of Justices, is here clearly explained in language as free as pos ible from technical obscurity. Among a few of the subjects of more general interest to the public at large, which have been copiously discussed in the treatise before us, may be mentioned the Game Laws, Publicans' Licenses, Criminal Prosecutions, Merchant Seamen, Excise and Inland Revenue, Factory Acts, Embezzlement Act, &c. &c. The laws relating to these, and all other topics of moment in the law of Scotland, have been ably and accurately digested ; and one valuable feature characteristic of the present work is, that in laying down the rules of Scotch law not only are the parallel rules of English law given, but English decisions and authorities are extensively cited throughout the work. The publication is, therefore, truly an English as well as a Scotch authority. The Dublin University Magazine. Liverpool : Wm. S. Orr and Co. This is certainly the most varied monthly of the age, and in the present number there isa rich fund of learn ing as well as fancy—of instruction as well as wit. The first article, touching the crown matrimonial of France, reads a painful lesson for that lady who was not long ago Mademoiselle Montijo. She has, we fear, placed a circlet on her head with which a dark shadow seems connected. Of the many fair brows on which it has rested there are very few it has left without a blight or a wound. Our good wishes for the happiness of the Empress Eugenia are damped by many doubts and fears, when we glance at the history of French Queens and Ern presses. Charlemagne bad four wives—Hermen garde was divorced two years after her marriage, and died, desolate, in obscurity; Hildegarde was chased by false calumniations into concealment and poverty, and died at the early age of twenty-six; Fastrade died very young, hated as much as her pre decessor had been lamented ; Lutgarde, after a miserable union of four years, died young and childless. : Louis I. married twice—Hermengarde, a cruel and despotic woman, enjoyed twenty-one peaceable years of wedded life; Judith, who has left an odious name in history, survived her hus band three years. Charles 1., after the death of his good Queen Hermentrude, whose life was one of sorrow, married Richilde, who fomented disorders, and survived her husband. 'Louis 11. was tenderly loved by Ansgarde, his first wife, who bore him two sons, but was obliged to divorce her on account of her mean birth, and marry Adelaide, daughter of Count Begon, who led a life of remorse and shame. Charles 111. married Richarda, a wise and virtuous Scottish lady, whom he accused of infidelity, and drove into a convent; the second wife of Charles IV., after the dethronement of her husband, was for thirteen years an exile in England, and on her re turn to France, at the age of forty-five, married Herbert, Count of Vermandois, then but twenty years of age, and son of the nobleman who had be trayed the King; Emma, the Queen of Lothaire, after a scandalous life at court, died a miserable out cast and a wanderer; Blanche, the wife of Louis V., poisoned her husband after a reign of fifteen months; Adelaide, the Queen of H ugh Capet, enjoyed her elevation to the throne only two years; Bertha, the first wife - of Robert the Devout, was, at the in stigation of the Pope, forsaken by her people, and ultimately by her husband, and died in a convent. Her successor, Constance, closed in obscurity an odious life, marked by assassination, licentiousness, and strife. Anne, wife of Henry 1., was excom municated by the Church and divorced : she died in Russia. Philip I. divorced, first, Bertha, and afterwards her successor, Bertrade ; the latter of whom closed an evil and troubled life by the severity of her self-imposed austerities. Louis VII. divorced his first wife, and the second died after a union of four years. Philip 11. married Isabel, when both bride and bridegroom were only twelve years of age, and at seventeen the queen was exiled from her husband's court : she was recalled, but died in childbirth at the age of twenty-one. Isabel's suc cessor, Inge: burg, scarcely seventeen when married, was divorced a fortnight after the ceremony, was brutally imprisoned, and had to support herself for a time by needlework. Agnes, another wife of Philip's, married only to be cut off, died of grief. Blanche, queen of Louis VIII., died of a broken heart at the loss of her children. Isabel, the first wife of Philip 111., was killed when young by a fall from her horse ; the second wife was murdered by foul calumnies and prolonged imprisonment. Joan, queen of Philip IV., died in her thirty-third year. Margaret, the wife of Louis X., one of the most depraved of beings, was exposed to every species of indignity, and at last was strangled by the hands of an'executioner in;her dungeon by the king's order : Blanche, her sister, consort of Charles IV., who was equally depraved, was imprisoned for twelve years and died a nun. Jane, another profligate, and queen of Philip V., concluded her wretched career in Flanders at the age of thirty-seven. Clemena, the second wife of Louis X., died young, shortly after the death of her posthumous child. Mary of Luxemburg, second queen of Charles IV., died in childbirth, aged only eighteen : Jane d Evreux, his third consort, lost her husband three years after their union. Blanche of Navarre, the second wife of Philip VI., was left a widow and enciezzte ere she had completed her twentieth year : and so the re cord goes on till we come to the names of Marie Antoniette, Josephine, and Amelie, ex-queen, the last and still living victim of the crown matrimonial of France. Out of sixty-seven royal and imperial consorts, there are but thirteen on whose names there is no dark stain of sorrow or of sin. Of the others eleven were divorced ; two died by the executioner; nine died very you n g -; seven were soon widowed; three were cruelly traduced; three were exiles; thirteen were bad in different degrees of evil; the prisoners and the heart-broken made up the remaining number. This paper on the French Queens, which will be read at the present moment with great interest, is followed by a review of the late Lord Belfast's " Poets and Poetry of the Nineteenth Century," a book which appears to contain the germs of what might have proved future excellence, had the young and amiable author been longer spared; a couple of sonnets by Fitz james O'Brien and Jamea Ethneston ; a ,sketch of Canada its Growth and Prospects. Brockville: David Wylie. This is composed of two lectures delivered before the Mechanics' Institute, Toronto, in the February of 1852, by the Rev. Adam Lillie. It is a subject so little understood, and so much misunderstood, that one must welcome with respect,-and treat with attention, every new contribution to its elucidation. Mr. Lillie is one cf those men who believe that it is neither noble, nor generous, nor patriotic to de preciate the character, the institutions, and the progress of one's own country. He thinks, further, that too much of this spirit has been indulged in Canada, to the great injury of social peace and public contentment. And he has been actuated to publish this fact and figure-studded work, to show the fallacy of the supposition that Canada is too far behind the neighbouring States to adopt the system of public instruction which they enjoy. Mr. Lillie has done good service to his adopted land and the progress of education there; and, while every true Canadian must feel rejoiced at the results he has incontestibly established, England, the mother country, cannot fail to be deeply grati fied. We trust it may excite in the mind of every inhabitant of Canada who reads it increased respect and love for his country, and prompt him to labour more energetically than ever for its advancement and prosperity. Blackwood's Magazine. Edinburgh : Blackwoods. The number for March opens with an amusing article on " Clubs and Clubbists," in which the former are defended with considerable aeutPncss. This is followed by the third part of "Lady Lee's Widowhood," in which the heroine is introduced to the officers of the dragoons. In " the Vegetable Kingdom," we have an interesting review of Dr. Lindley's work under that title, and also of a German work, by Schleiden, entitled " the Plant ; a biography," which is highly spoken of. " Rambles in Southern Sclavonia," is a notice of a German work, descriptive of a ramble in 1850, over that scene of civil war. The horrors perpetrated by the Hungarians, as detailtd by eye-witnesses, would leave but little sympathy for the impostor Kossuth, and his pretended patriots. A new story is com menced under the title of "John Rintoul; or, the Fragment of the Wreck ;" the hero of which is described as a venerable Scottish elder. After an amusing article on " a trio of French Tourists," we have two political essays on " Peace and War," and "the Malt Tax." In the former, the writer exposes with much force the utter folly and absurdity of that Peace•movement with which Mr. Cobden and his associates at Manchester are identified. In the article on the Malt Tax, the writer defends the pro posed reduction, on the ground of the duty being a heavy burden on the land ; and he argues that its removal would tend materially to the increase of consumption. We can agree with him as to the fact of the duty being totally opposed to any prin ciple of Free-trade; but until it can be shown that an increase of beer-drinking would be a national benefit, we prefer to have five millions a•year raised upon malt, than in some other way by which its imposition would prove far more oppressive. The argument is good as an abstract theory; but, like many other theories, is unsuited to practice. SERIALS FOR MARCH.—The Bulwark (Liver pool: G. Philip and Son) contains nearly a score of articles and several illustrative woodcuts. We are glad to perceive a growing appreciation of the importance of an extensive circulation of this periodical. The editor quotes, with satisfaction, in the present part, a recommendation from the Rev. W. F. Taylor, of St. John's, in this town, who thinks the "Bulwark is well adapted to the present crisis; thoroughly Protestant and evangelical, it carries the war into the enemy's camp, and throws the light of truth on the dark deeds of the mystery of iniquity."—The Protestant Magazine (London : Wertheim and Macintosh), as an unsparing corn ment on the proceedings of Rome throughout the world, should find a place at every fireside, and in every reading-room in England. The articles are always brief, powerful, and conclusive. Declama tion does not usurp the place of reasoning, and the writers combine piety with learning. We perceive the Rev. Dr. M`Neile's opinion of the Maynooth College Grant is printed, approvingly, in the present part—Hogg's Instructor (Hogg : Edin burgh) will be bought by many this month, if only f for the excellent portrait of Sir Bulwer Lytton with which it is adorned. This engraving is illus trated by a lengthy paper, partly biographical and partly critical, in which the merits of the author of "My Novel" are very fairly stated. George Gil fillan, the smart and peppery United Presbyterian minister of Dundee, " holds forth," in his customary irreverent style, on the subject of James Thomson, the fat and effeminate author of "The Seasons." — The Christian Family Advocate (Liverpool: G. Philip and Son) concludes a series of instructive papers on Spain, from which it appears that the eyes of many of the poor priests in that Rome ridden country are being opened-to a perception of the truth, and that several have already taken re fuge in England to avoid the punishment which must invariably follow their ecclesiastical declension. We have some further extracts from the poem of "Nineveh," with a running commentary by one who fully appreciates the genius of Atherstone. " Passages in the Life of an English Clergyman" give promise of pleasant and profitable reading; while, in the other parts of the magazine we find much solid instruction conveyed in an agreeable and forcible style.—The Scottish Educational and Literary Journal (Hogg : Edinburgh) is honourable to the teachers of Scotland. It indicates that they are abreast of the times they live in; and that, if energy and intelligence still do it, they are deter mined to attain their proper position, and to exert their legitimate power.—Cocks's Musical Miscellany for this month contains a very flattering notice of Mr. Thomas's band, and his exertions to diffuse music in Liverpool. The literary department of Messrs. Cocks's monthly is, as usual, original, varied, and captivating. BY THE REV. TRESHAM D. GREGG, D.D. The first public lecture in connexion with the Liverpool Royal Albert Lodge (No. 10) of Orangemen, was delivered last night at the Concert-hall, Lord Nelson-street, bythat distinguished Protestant champion and controversialist, the Rev. Dr. Gregg, of Dublin. Subject :—" The Heroism of the Sacred Character, es contradistinguished from the Profane, illustrated by the Life of Jacob." The Rev. Dr. Gregg was accompanied to the platform, at half-past seven o'clock, by the following gentlemen : The Revs. Dr. R. P. Blakeney, of Birkenhead, F. A. Power, S. Minton, David James, S. B. Sutton, Wode house, W. F. Taylor, H. G. Ireland, W. B. S. Mat thias, Nadin, J. Blakeney, W. H. Duck, Butler, Ellison, Clegg ; P. R. Curry, Esq., Mr. Byford, &c. These gentlemen were loudly cheered on making their appearance, the reverend lecturer himself being hailed with long and renewed bursts of Kentish fire. The audience was large and attentive. The chair having been taken by Dr. Blakeney, the Rev. S. MINTON opened the proceedings with an im pressive prayer. The Reverend CHAIRMAN said he had to apologise for the absence of the Rev. Samuel Fenton, whose absence was owing to causes over which that gen tleman had no control. (Hear). It is with great pleasure, continued Dr. Blakeney, I preside at a meeting of the Protestants of Liverpool, and especially one con vened to hear a lecture from my revered friend and brother, Dr. Gregg. I may say that the Protestants of Liverpool—who may justly boast of a M'Neile— are not behind those of any other portion of the 'United Kingdom in their attachment to Pro testant principles, and in their zeal for Protestant truth; and I may add the expressions of my conviction, that in the United Church of England and Ireland there is not a more uncompromising—a more faithful—a more fearless,—or a more able champion of Protest. ant truth than the Rev. Doctor Gregg. (Loud cheers.) I have no hesitation in expressing the great veneration which I have at all times entertained for his character, from the period when 1 was but a youth, when I had the pleasure of witnessing the victory which he achieved over the well-known Father Thomas Maguire. (Applause.) That Roman Catholic clergyman came for ward and challenged the whole hosts of Israel, and then thorn woo a shaking and a wavering in our camp ; but the Rev. Dr. Gregg started forward, and met him head to head, and foot to foot, and hewed him into pieces before the Lord. (Cheers.) Since my entrance into the ministry, I have myself enjoyed the privilege of being engaged in eire rote controversy with Roman Catholic priests, and 1 may add, have perhaps successfully discussed with them— (hear, hear) ; but I must avow that it is Dr. Gregg who, under God, has taught us how to fight with the foe—it is he who led us "on to victory." (Cheers). It was said of the great John Knox, whose memory I revere, that he " never feared the face of clay." I believe this is strictly true of our reverend brother, Dr. Gregg. lam persuaded that there is not a more fearless champion of Protestant truth in the country than he is. (Loud ap. plause). But I shall not longer stand between you and the gratification of your wishes. I now call upon that great and uncompromising champion of Protestantism. the Rev. Dr. T. D. Gregg, to address you. The Rev. Dr. GREGG, on stepping forward, was wel comed with enthusiastic rounds of Kentish fire. As soon as the applause had subsided, the lecturer proceeded to say :—Mr. Chairman, I assure you I very gratefully acknowledge, and very sincerely feel, the cordiality of your reception ; and I only trust that I may be greatly upheld and assisted so to act as to justify in even a small degree the very large and liberal eulogy bestowed upon me by our dear friend, the chairman. At present, the business before us is very definite and distinct. I have to deliver a lecture upon a fixed subject, and consequently there is no room for any extempora neous introduction. I should say two or three words, however, as to that which will be the feature of the lecture, and which is in one respect different from the one placed in the announce. ment. The subject there stated is " The Heroism of the Sacred Character, as contradistinguished from the profane, illustrated by the life of Jeremiah." Now, I did intend to illustrate it in the life of Jeremiah. At the same time I intended to take advantage of the life of Jacob, which abounded in points very pertinent to my subject. I, therefore, began to introduce Jacob with my lecture, and I found that I dwelt so long upon him that I had no time for Jeremiah. The subject of my lecture, will, con. sequently, be " illustrated by the life of Jacob." I only trust that it will not be the less interesting to you, on ac count of the slight departure from the original intention. (Cheers.) I really do think, for my part, that we exist in a crisis in the history of our country—a crisis in which to collect such a body of people as I see before me, for the mere purpose of an entertaining discussion, would, on the part of a Christian minister, be quite unjustifiable. And it is not for the purpose of discussing on mere curious points of speculation that I am here among you to-night. My hope is that I shall treat \my subject in such a way as to point out to you many of our evils. I believe that we have evils. I believe that we have great. and abounding, and common dangers. And I believe, furthermore, that we should be animated by a desire clearly to discern our dangers. It is with that practical view I now speak, and I hope that what I say may tend to show you what we are, what we may ap prehend, and how we should meet it, and how we may overcome that which is to be apprehended. And as I speak with that object in view, so do I hope that it is with the same puz porc and c:spc station you have come to hear me.—(Cheers.) One of the most remarkable characteristics of the age in which we live is this, that men suppose themselves to be almost entirely the authors of their own felicity. This is not very much to be wondered at, when we consi der the great things that have resulted, apparently, from the mere application of human power. Hence, the steam engine, the electric telegraph, the system of illumination by gas-light ; in short, a whole cycle of marvellous dis coveries that have well nigh made the ordinary perform ance of miracles a great part of the social economy of life. All this is apparently the result of human ingenuity. Yet, who that seriously reflects upon the subject, will venture to say that it is more than apparently so? It is a memorable declaration of the Royal Giant-killer, the manly Psalm-singer of Israel, " Once bath God spoken ; yea, twice have I heard this, that power belongeth unto God." (Ps. lxii. 11.) This God hath spoken in His Word. As, for example, "I am God Almighty—walk before me, and be thou perfect." (Gen. xvii. 1.) Here is the express declaration of the truth. But David heard it sounded forth not merely in the utterances of revela tions, but in the voice of all nature. " The heavens de clared to him the glory of God." Tt was God who spoke in the thunder. This voice of nature was the second utterance of the truth which constituted, primarily, a dogma of the wise king's bible. Now, what is the work of experiment which constitutes the great source of discovery, but hearkening to this second voice of God. " The works of God are great ; sought out of all them that have pleasure therein," (Ps. cxi. 2.) that is, sought out by experiment. Dignified is this work of reading facts, as of another Bible, feeling, at the same time, the heart lifted up in praise at every perception of the wisdom, the beauty, the harmony which they involve, and rendering to Him the glory of the discoveries which facts reveal. This is to be the Christian philosopher— this, "To look through nature up to nature's God," and to grow in ripeness for eternity as we augment our stores of earthly wisdom. But what is he who gropes among material things, in forgetfulness of their author and finisher, to "find out many inventions," without a thought higher than that of a utilitarian, or a view beyond the things themselves and their results ? What is he better than the old alchymist, whose existence was worn out in groping for the philosopher's stone, the finding of which might render a Providence unnecessary, or an their nice, that might render God—if for them he had any existence—powerless. _ _ _ Yet there is sadly too much of this material philosophy prevalent amongst us. Man, to the material experimen talist, seems to have done so much, that the fond con clusion is, he can do all things. He that has attained to the control of the lightning, that has " annihilated," to use a popular figure, "time and space," supposes that there can be " nothing withheld from him which he ima gines to do." Political economy will teach him to secure his own prosperity. Adequate statistics will reveal to him the wheels within wheels, in countless series, on which society revolves, and from which its interests arise. One system of philosophy will enable him to play upon the human mind as on a machine, and another to control the earth and its products. And thus we go upon the hypothesis that we are lords paramount here below, and can modify the fate and fortunes of society by our own wit and wisdom—and the printing of blue books. Well, our wit and wisdom, and industry, eventuate in famine, pestilence, and desolation, or in astounding crime and shameful demoralisation ; in discontent and sedition at , ..._ home, and the threatenings of foreign foes from abroad. Yet still the cry is " all's well. We go by blue books, and are justified by blue books, and are saved the detest- able annoyance of submitting to one book as paramount to all, and as all sufficient ; therefore, though shoals are on the right hand, and sandbanks on the left, and fearful rocks in advance,—still go ahead ! We have steam enough, and a strong blast of error in the stern !" Need I ask the men of Liverpool, whether they can have any doubt as to the nature of the sequel? (Loud cheers.) I trust you will not suppose me to make light of science, its vast discoveries, its stupendous results already realised, or of the magnificent future that we may still look for through it ; but in the proper matter of science we go upon unquestionable grounds. The voice of facts sounded forth from the material creation is uniform. Fire always burns, frost always chills, gunpowder always explodes, (that is when, as it may not be unnecessary in these times to do, you " keep your powder dry.") But, " Lord ! what is man ?" His heart ! " Who can know it ?" No one on earth; not one but he who framed it. " I the Lord search the heart ; I try the reins."—(Jer. aril. 10.) In short, theories about human nature are theories about a terra incognita, Calculations based on its workings are calculations about the wild waves or the blasts of heaven. I mean to say, theories on such a subject, irrespectively of God's 'Word. Now here, in this very complicated, or rather incom prehensible, vague, quicksilver, errant matter—human nature,—God has given sure and true statements, of a general kind certainly, but sufficient to guide us in our conduct. Let go these statements—resolve to act on theories of your own, and your fruit will be confusion of face, perhaps incurable disaster. The self complacent philanthropist says—Gratify these people in this way, and you will lay them under a deep sense of favour conferred, and be rewarded by their affectionate gratitude. This is natural—this must be so. -We tell you nay, says the scriptural philosopher. If you gratify them, you will be visited with their contempt-- you will stimulate their malignity, you will inherit their hatred, you will quicken in them a desire for vengeance. Absurdity, bigotry, intolerance ! are specimens of the rejoinders poured out incessantly, until the land is in vaded, the authorities spurned, the law trampled on, the Church corrupted, the aristocracy seduced, and the reveille beaten on a thousand drums, to tell the enemy he will be welcome —the blast sounded on a tilousand tram. pets that is intended to signalise his advent to the shore. " All that you need to do is to make it men's interest to act aright, and they will act aright." And this, although the whole history of crime and all the annals of society prove that in 99 cases out of 100 passion and appetite are paramount to a sense of self-interest. But there is a profound causation at work in respect to human conduct, which, above every other thing, the wise man of the world is indisposed to admit. I shall convey the thought I whould submit to you a little indirectly. We read, (Psalm xii. 8,) " The wicked walk on every side, when the vilest of men is exalted." But the words " vilest of men," may, with the context, be translated, " When the vileness of men is exalted." Our version conveys a most important verity, but the version which I propose is at least a different one, and this is its sense : " When the vileness of men is exalted as a thing that is honourable, then the wicked will walk on every side," that is, Divine grace will be withdrawn, grace will abound, and society become infested with criminal perpetrators of wrong. In a word, the wicked will walk on every side when the vileness of men,—that is, when evil principle: are enthroned, when falsehood is made a principle of action, when truth is not held as paramount and supreme. I venture, then, to contend, having convinced, myself of the truth of my conclusion, by reason, reflection, and experience, the voice of Scripture and the voice of the Church, that the modern theory of being guided by facts, or presumed facts, in moral or social or national matters, is exceedingly fallacious. Men collect a vast quantity of supposed facts, they spend millions in printing the books which contain them,—they exhaust their strength, and they contract their souls in studying them themselves; or they rely on the alleged study that others have bestowed on them ; and having seen how prosperity has originated in one set of facts, or poverty in another, they suppose themselves capable of securing one or of avoiding the other. They set to work to do so and lo ! for sweet they find bitter, for smooth rough, for straight crooked,—all their conclusions turn out to be vanity, and all their results vexation of spirit. Our principle is totally different. We would legislate for luck," as the world denominates it. We should not trouble ourselves with the printing of blue books or their study, we should find out in the one portable volume, which all may secure for themselves for sixpence or a shilling, (thank God,)—that true wade mecum of wisdom ; we should find out there how to secure the favour of the author,—there, the giver, the contriver of human prospe rity, and this we should sternly act on ; and we feel con vinced that then, without knowing how ourselves perhaps, we should practically find that all things were working together for our good. "It is vain for you to rise early and so late take rest, and eat the bread of carefulness, for so he giveth his beloved sleep," —or, as the versio❑ of Luther has it, " So he gives to his beloved sleeping." Blue books and Scotch philosophy say, reduce the ex penditure for your poor to a minimum ; let the cos: of their maintenance per head be, if possible, three pence, two pence, a penny a day. All this saving of capital is clear gain, and, as a natural and necessary result of strict philosophy, your savings will accumulate, and you will get very rich as a people. Now this is philosophy— perhaps we should say " feelosophee "—this is " the reason of the thing." If we lived in a machine world, nothing could be wiser than this. Nor would anything be more successful. But we do not live in a machine world ; quite the contrary. We live in a non machine world, and are strictly charged against reasoning about men on the machine principle. We are told that this Scotch economical saving in the case of the poor is the very worst extravagance that we could possibly be guilty of. We are told that if we would have " luck," (1 take this word, for, strange to say, bad and vulgar as it is, the world accepts it more readily, and ap preciates it more thoroughly, than the legitimate expres sion,) we must act in a manner the very opposite; that not saving in this case, but a large, a liberal, a generous expenditure is the true wisdom, and, in effect, the " cheapest system" in the end. " If there be among you a poor man of one of thy brethren within any of thy gates, in thy land which the Lord thy God giveth thee, thou shalt not harden thine heart, nor shut thine hand from thy poor brother. But thou shalt open thine hand wide unto him, and shalt surely lend him sufficient for his need, in that which he wanteth. Beware that there be not a thought in thy wicked heart, saying, the seventh year, the year of release, is at hand ; and thine eye be evil against thy poor brother, and thou givest him not, and it be sin unto thee. Thou shalt surely give him, and thine heart shall not be grieved when thou givest unto him, because that for this thing the Lord thy God shall bless thee in all thy works, and in all that thou puttest thine hand unto. For the poor shall never cease out of the land. Therefore I command thee, saying, thou shalt open thine hand wide unto thy brother, to thy poor, and to thy needy, in thy land." (Dent. xv. 7.) Now here is a passage which sheds a strange light upon the wisdom of niggard calcula tions about the poor, and of printing blue books to dis cover the minimum expense at which the breath may be kept in them ; for as to generosity towards them, or such as they, that is an exploded " absurdity." Mark the tone of this passage :—" Shut not thine hard from thy poor brother—open thine hand wide unto him ; beware lest there be a thought in thy wicked heart against him ; beware lest thine eye be evil against thy poor brother, and thou givest him naught, and he cry unto me against thee, and it be sin unto thee. Thou shalt surely give him, thou shalt not be grieved when thou givest to him—thou shalt open thine hand wide unto thy poor and thy needy in thy land—because that for this the Lord shall bless thee in all thy works, and in all that thou puttest thine hand unto." Here, then, we see that there are two systems, two ideas, and the one directly contrary to the other. " Save your bawbees," says Scotch philosophy; "close your band, tighten your hold—pinch, screw, squeeze, grind, a penny saved is a penny gained, and this is the way to be rich." And we must grant that, if this were a machine world, it would be so. " Open your hand wide," says the preacher ; " don't spare ; be generous, be kind, be loving ; don't think of your pence ; don't calculate your loss ; there is no loss in the case, it is but lent unto the Lord, and he will repay you seven fold. Considered in the sordid light of true interest, this is your wisdom. And experience has proved that this is so." The latter was the wisdom of Queen Elizabeth. She did not trouble herself about blue books. The passage which I have read to you was the rule of her statesmen. They legislated not to bring about results themselves, but to get the Almighty to work for them. And they succeeded. The population multiplied ; the nation be came mighty ; surrounding nations trembled to see a people whose God was the Lord. Colonies grew and prospered ; every man sat under his own vine and under his own fig tree. And then a mighty despot was raised up to tread the world beneath his feet ; England alone stood against him and the world in arms, and subdued them all. Was it by her own strength ? No ; her arms were made strong by the hands of the mighty God of Jacob. Such was the policy of England ere she took to book making—to the making of blue books, and went by the one book. She had then thriving, powerful, and loving colonies— colonies in which each square foot of building ground was a treasure and an inheritance, in which every inhabitant was a devoted subject of the crown, and which were all strong outworks of our national greatness. However, the blue book system and our own calculations have beggared our colonists, made the land valueless, the buildings on them empty and useless ; and now the theory is, that, as we have not strength to retain, it would be wisdom to relinquish possessions which were once the glory and the security of the British empire. England acted on the policy of Elizabeth, and she had no ragged schools, certainty ; but the reason was, she had no rags. I distinctly reco' , lect that when I first came to England there were no such tsings as ragged persons, and that it was a constant topic wish us then in Ireland, as a point of contrast, that, in ties favoured country were neither rags nor beggars. We then legislated for a blessing, for luck, for fortune, for the favours of heaven, and heaven blessed us. We have, however, acandoned that course, and taken the construction of our owa prosperity into our own hands ; and lo ! disaster, rags, wretchedness, expa triation, the foreigner waiting to devou- us, and the inter nal foe waiting to betray. Yet, still blite books say all is well, and we are bound to believe so, and to disbelieve eyes, ears, and all our own sources of intelligence. Now, all that I have said is calculated to show the vast importance of a more excellent way than we have for some time been walking in. I consider any speculative disser tation of small importance. 'What we want is happiness, prosperity, national power, individual success, general progress. Well, the secret, the source of all these bles sings is at hand ; the path is so straight that the wayfaring man, though a fool, need not err therein. Ilence the one thing needful is faith in the Bible, in its heavenly author ; respect for its truths, and a diligentstudyof them. Be this accomplished, and all will go right. To make some little advance towards this end, is the object of my present lecture. I consider a just view of the character imparted by scripture a heart-converting, soul-enlighten ing thing, calculated in sundry ways to quicken faith and render it operative, to lead to the repudiation of the false philosophy which has been so destructive, and to encou rage the adoption of a better; hence it is that my lecture is on the subject of the heroism of the sacred character, as contradistinguished from the profane—illustrated by the life and history, acts and monuments of the patriarch Jacob. I here speak of two types of character, " the sacred" and " the profane." I might call them the scriptural and the secular ; you will understand me not to mean the wicked and the righteous—the moral and the immoral. I mean the excellent and honourable man of the world as contrasted with the perhaps not more excellent and honourable man of God. My object is not in the leastto dis parage the worth that is purely secular—but to contrast it with and set before you what I regard as the difference between the two cases. There are heroes of both sorts. Brutus and Cato, Regulus and Julius Caesar, were great characters, and have fixed upon them the attention of mankind. Ido not want to extenuate their glory, but I want to put into con trast with such heroism as theirs the heroism of the man of God ; to call your attention to the relative merits of these contrasted heroisms as elements and springs of con sequences affecting society and mankind, that you may be brought to see more clearly the relation that true re ligion bears to society and its welfare, and be encouraged to act more decidedly in the way of duty, and perhaps to see more distinctly what that way is. We have the contrast frequently enough before us in Scripture. Nimrod was a secular hero—a mighty hunter before the Lord,—that is, a man-hunter, a conqueror ; Abraham, a few generations later, was a sacred hero. The two brothers, Ishmael and Isaac, were similarly related. Ishmael, a wild man—a warrior—his hand against every man's, and every man's hand against him—a hero of the sword. Isaac, a quiet, thoughtful man of God—going out to meditate in his field in the even time, chiefly occu pied with thoughts of immortality, but still a hero. But, perhaps, the most striking contrast between these two types of character is presented in the case of the two bro thers, Jacob and Esau. Esau, the cunning hunter, the man of the field—the man of dash and show, and glitter ; Jacob, the plain man, dwelling in tents, the man of busi ness, of quietude, of piety, of peace. See them through their life, you will find no superior honour or virtue perhaps about Jacob—viewed as to prac tical conduct. But the distinction lies in the fact of a generally abiding sense of the importance of the spiritual world of God, of heaven, of death, of glory—of duty as owing to Him, on the part of Jacob ; whereas in Esau these things were slightly considered. Not, perhaps, neglected, but certainly regarded as of secondary im portance. See the two brothers for years separated, and each meanwhile travailing in his peculiar way, at length draw ing near to meet one the other. Esau advances at the head of a troop of horsemen, amounting to three or four hundred ; Jacob in the midst of his family, his flocks, and herds, his man servants, and his handmaidens. Both men were now in their prime. Esau's breast swells with a certain amount of indignation as it respected the me mory of the past, and with a certain measure of contempt for his plodding and careful brother. He reflects that it was in the power of his hand to fly upon and spoil him. His overnight meditations are of pride and earthly glory. Jacob suspects no less. He apprehends his danger, but he has no hesitation as to his resource. He sets his house in order, as for the worst ; he takes all the means of precaution which prudence suggested ; but having done this, he says all will be in vain unless the Disposer of hearts give success to my arrangements and my plans. He retires into a secret place—he yours out his soul be fore God—" 0 God of my father Abraham, and God of my father Isaac, the Lord who said unto me, Return into thy country and to thy kindred, and I will deal well with thee • 1 am not worthy of the least of all th e merc i es and of all the truth which thou bast showed unto thy servant ; for with my staff I passed over this Jordan, and am now become two bands. Deliver me, I pray thee, from the hand of Esau ; for I fear him, lest he come and smite me, and the mother with the children. And thou saidst, I will surely do thee good and make thy seed as the sand of the sea, which cannot be numbered for mul titude." Such was the prayer offered up. It indicates a mind engrossed with a sense of the infinite nature and almighty power of God, relying solely and exclusively on Him ; and yet, so as that he that offered it up should still use all the means in his power to effect his own purpose. In short, looking at God as contemplating this world and its intelligent inhabitants with the interest of a father, it is just the sort of prayer that reason itself would convince us he would rejoice in. It pleads his goodness alone; it confesses total unworthiness in the petitioner. It pleads past mercy as ground for hoping for future favours. Thus doctrinally perfect —we see the spirit of the suppliant in the sequel. "Jacob was left alone, and there wrestled a man with him until the breaking of the day. And the man said, ' Let me go, for the day breaketh ;' and he said, I will not let thee go, except thou bless me.' " All that is meant by this wrestling match, this striving with God, the Christian knows, feels, experiences. Jacob persevered, and he had his reward ; for God called his name Israel. "He is a prince with God." " For as a prince hest thou power with God and man, and hast prevailed." Now here is the heroic in sacred character. Man reach ing from earth to heaven. First discovering the un failing mode of access to God, and then coming effectually to him—his soul grasping immensity in its outsiretchings, his hand laying hold on omnipotence, and making it sub servient to his will,—here is, I repeat, the heroism of the sacred character. Esau points out that of the profane. There is ability, there is energy, there is honour, there is spirit, but there is nothing more than the mere man throughout. The high-minded, the honourable, the brilliant, the successful man,—but no partnership with heaven—no thoughts soaring through immensity —no ab sorbing interest in the eternal world. Nothing but the mere man. Jacob, after his wrestling-match, would have met the world in arms. Fear was with him, subsequently, a non. existent thing. Nay, he had more than this deliverance from fear, he was clothed in majesty, he was invested with grandeur. He subdued everything to himself, just because he was a man united to God. "And when Esau saw him he ran to meet 'inn, and embraced him, and fell upon his neck, and they wept." Here were then two heroes. The sequel is instructive. With every increasing year, Israel, the man of God, grew in strength —grew, we may say, in beauty and in majesty. Nothing can be finer than the introduction of the vene rable patriarch to Pharaoh, King of Egypt. His son Joseph was now prime minister of this proud and puissant monarch. And the eagerness which he showed to present his father and his brethren to the king is an indication that their bearing was suitable. How grand must have been the original type of the noble Jewish ideal Conceive the Egyptian king, seated on his throne, his nobles on the right hand and on the left; the deliverer of his country from the dread visitation of a seven years' famine, one of the finest specimens of humanity ever seen, draws nigh— he leads in a stately and venerable character, he is clad in white robes, his head is hoar with age, and a white beard sweeps his girdle. IJnawed by the throng of courtiers, he draws nigh. His thoughts are evidently engaged with a scene even higher than that bef ore hi m , f or hi s h a bi tual " conversation is in heaven." He seems I o be an archangel conducted to an earthly court as a specimen of heavenly glory—all are struck with a feeling of veneration as Joseph sets him before Pharaoh. The monarch, with mingled awe and admiration, stands mute. Israel breaks the silence, while he lifts up his hand, and blesses the king— " The God of my father Abraham, the God of Isaac, and my God, bless the King." Pharaoh at length speaks—" How old art thou ?" " And Jacob said unto Pharaoh, the days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years : few and evil have the days of the years of my life been, and have not attained to the days of the years of the life of my fathers in the days of their pilgrimage. And Jacob blessed Pharaoh, and went out from before Pharaoh." The gravity —the serenity—the dignity manifested by the old hero on this occasion are admirable. An additional occasion I cannot avoid mentioning. It was the last visit of Joseph to the aged patriarch, and the circumstances connected with his death. It came to pass after these things that one told Joseph—Behold thy father is sick : and he took with him his two eons Ephraim and Manasseh." We shall not adequately realise this scene, if we forget the wondrous position of Joseph, occupying, as he did, the post of the first minister of the king of Egypt. We haves full ac count of his apppointment and of his style. " Pharaoh said unto Joseph, See, I have set thee over all the land of Egypt. And Pharoah took off his ring from off his hand, and arrayed him in vestures of fine linen, and put a gold chain about his neck; and he madehim to ridein the second chariot that he had, and they cried before him, Bow the knee ; and he made him ruler over all the land of Egypt." (Gen. xli. 43.) The vast superiority of Egypt in the article of horses and chariots is matter of Scriptural history. No doubt, Joseph waited on his father in regal style, and that the cavalcade, gorgeous in the burnished trappings of silver and gold, on chariot and horsemen, and gleaming with the brilliancy of colours which this wonderful people delighted in, was of surpassing splen dour. The peal of the clarion, and the thunder of the horsemen heard from that distance—which filial affection would think safe, while it could not incommode the aged Patriarch—would have notified to his household and him self the advent of his honoured and best beloved son. " Behold, said one to him, thy son Joseph cometh unto thee. And Israel strengthened himself, and sat upon the! bed." It adds emphasis and character to the history that it makes no mention of the preliminary greetings O father and child, but makes the interview commence wits what was uppermost in the old man's mind ; thus— " God Almighty appeared to m e i n L uz , i n the landof Canaan, and blessed rne, and said unto me, Behold I will make thee fruitful and multiply thee, and I vill make of thee a multitude of people ; and I will ; ive this land to thy seed after thee for an everlasting poos sion. And now thy two sons, Ephraim and 3.lanaeeh, which were born unto thee in the land of Egypt before I came unto thee into Egypt, are thine, as Reuber and Simeon, they shall be mine." Having finished his agdress to J,:seph, he has just sufficient power of vision to see that there were two persons present, though he cold not discern them, (" for the eyes of Israel were dim will age, so that he could not see,") and he asks, " are these ?' And Joseph said, ' They are my son! whom God bath given me in this place.' And he said, Bring them, I pray thee, unto me, and I will bless then.' And he brought them near unto him, and he kissed Vern and embraced them, and said, I had not thought b see thy face, and 10, God bath showed me also thy seed.' And Joseph brought them out f rom b e t ween hi s L aces , and bowed himself with his face to the earth." To see the great dignitary of Egypt, the favorite of his prince, thus prostrate before a majesty supeior to his own,pic ture and a lesson. B for it sprung froma what t inter llcfoourosweswiis naelth lernoarrable i, f a Pin- Joseph took his sons, Manasseh, the elder, in his left hand, towards Israel's right hand, and Ephraim, the younger, in his right hand, towards Israel s left hand Intending that his father should stretch out 15:s right hand, and place it on the head of the elder boy, ang place his left on thehead of the younger, who was oppositeit; but instead of this the old man did just the reverse--he crossed his hands wittingly, and put his right hand o•t Ephraim and his left on Manasseh. This surprised and displeased Joseph, and he proceeded, supposing some mistake in the case, to remove his father's right Ilan.' from Ephraim's head, saying—" Not so, my father—this is the first born, put thy hand upon him ; and his father refused, and said, I know it, my son, I know it. He also shall become a people, and he also shall be great; but truly his younger brother shall be greater thin he, and his seed shall become a multitude of nations.' " This evidence of profound reflection and of thoughtful procedure is very fine ; but that which chiefly makes itself felt in the case is the old rran's sense of inherent power. Nations seem to gush from his palms, capital cities, and vast metropoles, to drop from his fingers. He feels himself as a child of God, invested with a potency that contemplates the whole earth and all its future history, and that makes his slightest action of moment. But Jacob's greatest day was his dying day : on that day "he called his sons and said, Gather yourselves together, that I may tell you that which shall befall in the last days."—(Gen. xlix. 1.) When they had assembled round the couch of the dying man, his soul was then wafted aloft upon the wings of the spirit of prophecy and of power. He did not merely speak a history—he :weed a future ; for it pleased God to invest his wort:s with a force that gave them a control over events through out all time. It is a quaint but not uninstructive apophthegm—" It tskes many of all kinds to make up a world." His lot is little to be envied whose mission it is, by evil propEnsi ties and dispositions for mischief, to contribute to the production of that careful watchfulness on the part of the other members of the community, without which sa:iety would be a mass of men collected together merely to sti- mutate the rapacity and reward the'violence of the first _ invader. We are not to suppose that the old patriarch composed horoscopes for his sons--if we may so employ this term—with any view to the composition through his own wisdom, of a great people, because made up of all the moral ingredients of good and bad which should compose one. Not at all. We must suppose that in this case this holy man spoke as he was moved by the Holy Ghost. It was under this influence, then, that the first of the tribe that composed the nation that he originated, was aristocratical in its sentiments, and sensual in its tastes ; the second and third, crafty arid ferocious ; the fourth, of dignity, power, wealth, and perseverance ; the fifth, of naval superiority ; the sixth, of industrial energy ; the seventh, of judicial eminence ; the e:ghth, military; the ninth, convivial ; the tenth, oratorical; the eleventh, of general good fortune ; and the twelft% successful in war. I do not intend to say that this catalogue, which I have thus submitted, is strictly in conformity with critical cor rectness of statement, nor is it needful for my present purpose that it should be so. What I wish to convey is, that Jacob did contemplate a futurity for each tribe of his posterity, and briefly placed it before them, so as to im press a charact er upon t h e di st i nct di v i s i o ns of his race, and, humanly speaking, upon the fortunes of the whole of them, and th ence upon t h e w h o le world subsequently. It enhances the id ea o f the grandeur of the htroic in actually sacred lcl character, ye,mstordeti fcyhiin stretching tleset influenceh i e tt e h h u il s d , rthrough men, in throughout n r a a l le s grasp jeomrfyee,;?;set and of every age, that followed it. It is very likelayr,Vi... there does not exist at this hour any people on the P . ,„ perhaps not an individual—whose state has not Pe e d largely influenced by the life and death, the act s 1 . opinions, of this sacred hero. Hie promises kept h i s terity together, and made them ever watchful about fulfilment in the predicted Shil o h—th e " sent" person was life from the dead to the world at large. Now let us turn to Esau, the hero of the sword. __ re have his whole history i n a f ew verses . s, N ow thes e the generations of Esau, who is Edam—Esau too ; K r of wives of the daught ers o f C anaan Adah, the daught er Elon, the Hittite and Aholib ama b, the daughter o f the daughter of Zibeon, the Hivite. And na i sh e eca bge Tshmael's daughter, sist er o f N e b a j o th. And Ana" eta And A to Esau Eliphaz ; and B a sh :ma th b are Reuel. - ell Bawl bare Jeush, and Jaala m , an d K ora h • theselt I the sons of Esau th a t were b orn t o hi m in dna° . gr eet is the calamity of E sau th a t a l mos t th e w h o l e o f the n'efee, thus enumerat e d as hi s p os t er i ty i s connecte d with s 0 ~e thing disgraceful or disastrous. " And Esau took e Y r , wives, and hi s sons , an d his daughters, and all th e P e el I sons of his hou se , an d hi s cattle, and all his beasts' d of all his sub s t ance , w hi c h h e h a d gotten in t h e land s Canaan, and wen t i n t o th e country from the f a ce of e f brother Jacob, f or th e i r r i c h es were more than that e' e n might dwell together; and the land wherein they strangers could not bear them because of their 1 . 7) And thus dwelt E sau i n M oun t S e i r. " (G en. xxx vi• Such is the brief history of Esau. It enr e Piief his life and death. Nothing else is spoken a bout ce / save a barren catalogue of his posterity, who were he w ef t all seemingly, for the g rea t par t, d u k es. Tbesel r o , dukes, the sons of Esau ; the sons of Eliphaz, the e ll r o born son of Esau ; Duke Tertian, Duke Omar, vp. Zepho, Duke Kenan, Duke Korah, Duke Arnalele (Gen. xxxvi. 15, 16.) And so it proceeded througb dete chapter, enumerating a l ong li s t o f these ve Noblemen, who never did a memorable act, spoke morable word ; but having lived and died, leave h e the information that they were " dukes." There is a feature of Jacob's character not unintere e ti eei particularly as we find it largely abounding in his ,r e ," f a , that is, his very remarkable concern about his dead broil It is recorded thus, " And the time drew night that,': e it must die ; and he called his son Joseph and sni e : f him,—lf, now, I have found grace in thy sight, P,"l pray thee, thy hand under my thigh, and deal trO' kingly with me ; bury me not, I pray thee, in Egypt' „to I will lie w ith m y f a th ers , an d t h ou s h a l t carry we e'ej. Egypt, and bury me in their burying place. A n d he''„ , 1 will do as thou hast sa id.' A n d h e said, Swearr;;' me ;' and he mare unto him." (Gen. xlvii. In this we see a hope full of immortality. of knew that his body was not a mere aggregate ' t e of dust and ashes, but a dwelling place 01 e s! holy Spirit ; a sacred temple that was to h w et s an eternal weight of glory, and he was snit ° , "et; about it with a proportionate care. We know how JP ci ference on religious subjects operates in the p r oductil l t e a feeling of total indifference about the destination °l e e body. All have heard i n st ances i n w hi c h suppose d her°'iot of feeling have bequeathed the dead body to surgeolis utilitarian experiments. This is secul ar h ero i sm , a pr i nc i p l e w hi c h measu res lye importance of all things by sight and sense. tract, t.t. ihoe J n a, Almighty, : b ed ' io s gtnh w hstei a yd s g:lri haiabi sel sacred etgovr aa h acr e ie ro t heroism, sl,mlovfi, suitablenwdg el b itf i naa c e: h loso m uf br a c,e d ota e nwnd t edu h e rnceet conduct. h u ee r r ! ecj e . , l et ! Promises, the engrossing subject of thought a n d spe c However, having submitted to you, in the wa y of c r e d and the secular man, I would now draw you backwa rd see something like the principle of causation that t working in the cases before us. I allude througho ut Is i t l h i s e c o o l d n t r a a g s e t , e s u l p b o l n e s je s i a n c g o s b bestowed b . y O I s f a a c c o , u t r b s e e , f a t 13 e I sate it the virtue of the blessing of the patriarch in each c cas o arising from the fact that he was di v i ne l y gu id e d to ntthe the purposes of heaven itself. The explanation of pd fraud practised towards Esau by Jacob, its heinousness c e p its justification is s o o b v i ous , th a t I s h a ll not stop on te,, but would fix your attention upon more recondite P e i - ft, Isaac had an inter na l ev id ence th a t hi s wor d s wer e fe e s irrevocable, irrevocable, unalterable. " Wh ere i s h e th at b a th tat re venison, and brought it, and I have eaten of all eefoi, thou earnest. and have blessed him ? Yea, and he ' ° ,) 3 l br blessed." A ga i n , " B e h o ld, I h ave wa d e hill' Lord, and all his brethren have I given to him for ` ° d vants, and with corn an d w i ne h are I sus t a i ne d hi m ; what shall I do unto thee, my Son ?" (Gen. xxvii., " e r Isaac all through speak s o f hi s wor d s as things, 1,1;50e pressed purposes as already faits accomplis. be Spirit of God h a d b orne w it ness to hi s Spirit" th a t l 0 spoke the mi n d o f G o d. O ur L or d desires his peel' '0 achieve this prayin g p ower —" Wh atsoever ye ,le in prayer and believing, ye shall receive." But then ` power of faith is of divine donation. tf There is something, ho wever , as I h ave intimated, 're e s thoughtworthy in the blessings pr onounce d respec tively Jacob and Esau. That on Jacob was—" God g i ve th ee o f the de a ' ee o heaven, and of the fatness o f th e ear th, an d p l en ty of c",p and wine. Let peopl e serve th ee , an d na ti ons b o w d i. ° ,, e 's to thee ; be Lord o v e r thy b ro th er , an d l e t th y nief"_,`lb sons bow down to the e . C urse d b e every one th a t cur- - thee, and blessed be he that blesseth thee." n eo That on Esau was—" Thy d we lli ng s h a ll b e th e fa— ad of the earth, and of th e d ew o f h eaven f rom a b ove . til by thy sword shalt th ou li ve , an d th ou s h a lt se rve th e brother ; and it shall co me t o p ass w h en th ou s halt If the dominion, that thou shall b rea k hi s y o k e f ro m 0 6 neck." f hes' The remarkable points are th e s e :—" Th e d e w ven and the fatness of the earth." That is, , en'PGoti abunda nce an d prosper i ty were made direct giftfree° to Jacob. Whereas they were not direct gifts from Gid to Esau s ir " Thy dwelling shall be fatness of the earm, and the d e w of heaven from above." Intimating flat Esau 01°11 05 simply be made a sharer in the gifts oestowed upon rd brother, and prop er ly t o hi m b e l ong ;sg. "By thy 55 , 0 e,, shalt thou live, and thou shall sere thy brother"- - e" err he was to be the guardsman—tit• soldier—of his brot h and to receive a lib era l p or ti on of the fatness of the en ror that belonged to his br o ths, for the service thus r` dered. Now, be it re mem b ere a that Jacob and Esau stun' it cturch principles. They a re r elate types of antagoni s ti c , t thst o w h o ra f i a m it — h faithful Israel l t rirba,si to Baby to the ten idolatrous 'Zionouso onetd s l a uro s jn o o Eelusira as Jerusalem tc Rome. On one hand is the gravity r i o l sobriety, —sr. may add, the profundity and soliditY , truth,—atet on the other hand, the p om p an d sP i rr e w dour a n d gorgeous display of error , w ith i ts bo g character and baseless nature. I n s h or t, Jacob the pure faith, Esau the faith corrupted. dut y, Now mark ! The mission o f J aco b i nvo l ve d, as a dn;. the assertion of superio r ity. "B e l or d over t h y b ro theY , let thy mother's sons bow down to the e ." H e wa s P e 4, tively comm an d e d t o secure t h e l or d s hi p, and to retaine'es This lay on him as a d uty t o b e f u lfill e d . A n d on t h e oui ri , hand, subserviency res t e d on hi s b rot h er as an o bli g att t " by thy sword shalt thou live, an d th ou s h a lt ser ve i?rother. , Superiority on the one hand, and inferier"a on the other, were divine institutions. If Jacob insist o e on his superiority as of right divine, Esau would be CO; pelled to concede it as the award of heaven, against wh l ' to he would he made to feel that it would be in Tait , ‘5 struggle. The gifts of heaven, wine, oil, even the fatin, of the earth, and the attainment of those gifts of whit Esau was to share, were contingent on the fulfilment duty by both ; that duty being, on one hand, the assert tion of superiority, and, on the other, quiet endurance e inferior position. " Jacob,—Be thou lord over thy brother." " Esau,—Serve thou thy brother with thy sword." But mark the alternative on the neglect of this cation. It was said, "by fate," to Esau— " It shall come to pass, when thou shall have the ~tle r r minion, that thou shalt b rea k hi s yo k e f rom o ff t h y ne e' —(Gen. xxxiii. 40.) • t b i e Jacob was awarded s u p remacy ; an d h e was to re tain for the good o f b o th. B ut if h e neg l ecte d hi s duty , if ,s 0 began to liberalise, t o thi n k h e was t a ki ng t oo muc h nPr io . him, or to h ear k en t o th e murmurings of his brother, s r ,. i p might chafe and fret because of his inferior stains ; short, instead of being strictly governed by the oracle heaven, they began to take counsel with inferior thingl f, with human reasonings and principles of expediency. e hearkening to such plausibilities, J aco b, i n st ea d o f keer.'7, l ; Esau in his p ro p er p os iti on o f a servan t, wou ld yield 1 0 f persuasives, and make a breach in the constitution heaven by the concession of equality to Esau. V i e g when Esau sh ou ld b e a ll owe d t o exerc i se dominion f°° which h e was not d es i gne d nor fi tte d , " I t would conle„f, pass that he s h ou ld b rea k hi s b rot h er ' s yo k e frog- I .v, his neck," th e resu lt b e i ng ca l am i ty to b ot h , cu rsn, ) ; and bitterness and vexa ti on . Th e w i t hh o ldi ng o f t'! fatness of the earth f rom hi m , w h ose proper port i on it co; . to the starvation of the oth er , w h ose pr i v il ege it 'css share in the gift. the l se lo maintenance of due superiority, is a blessing in its prOP e o v n i e o w t s t . h i n T k h T er n e e i e s d stop no diffi to m m lt, a_k i e n a thane e a p e p a l s i c e s . t o T n I%. ° e f r place. The husband or father that would neglect to ingi s ' upon his domestic supremacy would he unkind t o his 'xi'„ and children. The master or the prince who should eY ercise authority with a slack hand, would introduce coo' fusion into his dominions. And this principle is of yell general applicability—to recognise and enforce the pre-`r ° 9 gatives of truth is actual kindness, even to the maintaine d of falsehood ; and it b e l ongs t o th e h ero i sm of the sa crei character not to be weak in the assertion of this gr e° principle. From all that we have been considering, it appears 0101 we may see clearly and distinguish correctly the berei s 4 that is sacred and th a t i s secu l ar. Th e h ero i sm o f t'd soldier, and the heroism of the citizen ; of the general s ° o l of the divine ; of th e men o f th e swor d, an d o f t h e men peace. it One has its glory i n y ou th, i n s t reng th, i n ac tivitYl of gradually vanishes away as years increase. The Nestor ; e the poet is an old story-teller, endeavouring to win a sh 3 a of admiration from narratives of his former prowess, since past and gone. His Priam is a pitiable old 1 : 61 ' 1 , 0 begging a slight favour at the hand of a warrior 'cw des - p - ised his w 7 eakness. This is the secular hero. The other, not without a glory at every stage of ence, grows in grace, in beauty, in majesty, in po ce re , with augmenting years ; and the grave that at last o f ceives the hero is but the entrance to an eternal weight glory—to a crown of glory that passeth not away. la p One by the rigour of the arm of flesh may rePe t be enemy, the other may move the hand that moves universe to crush him for ever. f the The strength of one resides in physical force- -0- other in moral power. In the two characters which I ha v e been contemP- 3ti a we have types of two great forces in society, which c f c ,' e t, v ade, in fact, all natu re . A type o f t h e military 1 tbe and of the ecclesiastical po wer ; o f th e arm y, a nd 0 ,de church. Nay, here are typifi e d t wo e l emen t s th a t Per' all creation. th e Mark! there is in every man two elements of character-- 05, masculine element an d th e f em i n i ne element. TbeT.T,tll culine element —cour age , v i gour, reso l ve, energ y, , pt —this is the Esau of man's nature; and the femininee ,e t Tiog —truth, charity, faith, h o p e , p i ety. N ow th e same nccv may be said of e v e r y woman. Sh e h as i n h er the marineline element—vigou r , d ec i s i on, reso l ve ; . an d the te', ri cllr element—gentleness, sympathy, lovi n g affection, "` propensities—this is the Jacob of her nature. nce of Now it is a curi ous f ac t, th a t it i s th e predointi:? 9 wo o} the feminine element in man, the supremacy of his ... er feC• principles over his whole nature, that constitutes the!, fat' tair Out Lat