of Battisford Hall, who is descended from Elizabeth, the daughter of Fairfax, who married Mr. Samuel Studd. Among the descendants of the Fairfaxes of Suffolk was Kirby, the entomologist; another is Edward Taylor, Esq., Gresham Professor of Music, whose nephew, Edgar Taylor, compiled memoirs of Fairfax and Meadows, under the title of the Suffolk Bartholomeans, in which he says, with undoubted truth, of Fairfax: "He was clearly, in talents, reputation, and energy, the leader of the Suffolk Nonconformist ministry." The Lay Preachers' Corner. GREAT SERMONS. THE following extract from a private letter contains such good advice from such a good man that we have been induced to give it to the public. The author knows whereof he affirms. He is no novice, but a veteran in the cause; no dunce, unable to get up a "great sermon !" therefore censures them; no obscure man, disappointed in his aspirations to be a "great preacher," and therefore jealous of all who are called such. Our men of the pulpit, and those of the pew, would do well to heed his warnings, for all alike are injured by the evils referred to. "A young preacher's heart is like tinder, needing only a spark to set it on fire, and make the poor exposed creature imagine vain and haughty things against the Lord and his Anointed. When I have seen a black coat with elastic tread mount the rostrum, with the bold, self-sufficient air, as much as to say, 'I will preach a great sermon, and wreathe my temple with fresh laurels,' I have been mortified and disgusted. "Great sermons have been the plague and poison of the church; and thousands are now in hell, because the pulpit was occupied by a vain, proud, and self-conceited sciolist. "Preaching ourselves has been our sin, shame, and ruin as a class; and it is a danger to which men of talents and apparent usefulness, especially in large cities, are exposed. "If the devil succeeds in setting us on the pinnacle of the temple, it will not be long before we have to wail over broken bones. "God's grace is full and free; but I know of no promise to a proud, popular sermonizer. God resisteth the proud. "You will say, 'How can talent and eloquence help being popular?' Please read 1 Cor. ii. ""What will this babbler say?' When you overhear the refined, fashionable, and sentimental denominate your sermons babbling all right,' you are then not far from being what you ought to be. "I affect no superiority-I presume not to find fault or advise-but before I quit, let me add: A good minister of Jesus Christ' is not necessarily a great man in the world's estimation. Alas! for the world of mankind, there are so many who, in the pulpit, would rather have their 'effort' flattered by the carnal, than that a soul should be saved. And now, suppose the popular applause were fully realized. What is it worth? Who are the flatterers? Folks of no spiritual discernment! fickle and fluctuating as the 'aura popularis' is proverbially said to be. "My experience is that those who assume to praise can presume to condemn, and that the bitterest foes are those who had been most clamorous in their hosannas. Ah! the motive and consideration are below the dignity, moral and spiritual, and official, of a Christian minister. "The motive is, to please the Crucified One, by calling many to his feet. Flee popular adulation and pride as you would the face of a viper, and spend your time at the foot of the cross, that you may know who you are. "That sermon is the greatest which receives the deepest impress of the Divine Spirit. The loftiest display of logic and eloquence, as a sermon, may occupy the lowest place: it may be without Christ, and then, it must be without blessing. The humblest lay preacher of the realm may therefore, in the proper sense, preach great sermons." rr A PULPIT BAPTISM. "My sermons yesterday were almost fully written, but I was too full of my subject to require their aid. Oh! I like new light to fall on my texts in the pulpit. It makes notes appear mean, paltry things. I remember, when living with Rev. Dr. Dickson, in Edinburgh, he handed me on Saturday evening his sermon for the following Sabbath morning, to read, and I went to church expecting to hear him preach it. He took the same text, but not an idea of what he had written and I read did he utter. At dinner he asked if I had observed anything at church that seemed strange. "I said I did. "What was it?' said he. "Why, Doctor, you took your Saturday evening text, but uttered not one idea on it you had written to preach.' "I thought you would notice it,' said he. I got such a new and precious view of my text when in prayer, that I put not my sermon on the Bible, but spoke just as I saw and felt." "His wife said, 'Well, Doctor, I wish you would always preach as you see and feel. I should see the truth better, and come home feeling better, than when you read what you have written on your text.' "This will happen sometimes, but not always. When at Great Bourton, England, I once forgot my text, and in my first prayer had such a full and glorious view given me of those precious words, 'Wherefore, let us come boldly to a throne of grace,' &c., I could have preached from them all day, I saw so much and felt so much in them. But God had a poor trembling sinner to save that day by that word, who said, 'I could perish-pray I dared not.' And God showed that trembling penitent, then and there, that there was neither necessity to perish, nor to restrain prayer before him. Oh! the joy that soul rejoiced in before the sermon was ended, to which full expression was given at the house of the pious Deacon Knill at its close. Oh! I love a pulpit baptism. Think God has some design in it for good to souls; and that is the sugar that sweetens it to my soul." Household Hints. A THRILLING INCIDENT. RETURNING from a visit in New Orleans, we were fortunate enough to secure passage in a line steamer, with but few passengers. Among the ladies, one especially interested us. She was the widow of a wealthy planter, and was returning with only one child to her father's house. Her devotion to the child was very touching, and the eyes of her old black nurse would fill with tears as she besought her mistress "not to love that boy too much, or the Lord would take him away from her." We passed through the canal of Louisville, and stopped for a few minutes at the wharf, when the nurse, wishing to see the city, walked out on the guard, at the back of the boat, where, by a sudden effort, the child sprang from her arms into the terrible current that sweeps towards the falls, and disappeared immediately. The confusion which ensued, attracted the attention of a gentleman who was sitting in the fore part of the boat, quietly reading. Rising hastily, he asked for some article the child had worn. The nurse handed him a tiny apron she had torn off in her efforts to retain the babe in her arms. Turning to a splendid Newfoundland dog that was eagerly watching his countenance, he pointed first to the apron, and then to the spot where the child had gone under. In an instant the noble dog leaped into the rushing water, and also disappeared. By this time the excitement was intense, and some persons on shore, supposing that the dog was lost as well as the child, they procured a boat and started off to search for the body. Just at this moment the dog was seen far away with something in his mouth. Bravely he struggled with the waves, but it was evident that his strength was failing fast, and more than one breast gave a sigh of relief as the boat reached him, and it was announced that he had the child, and that it was still alive. They were brought on board-the dog and the child. Giving a single glance to satisfy herself that the child was really living, the young mother rushed forward, and sinking beside the dog, threw her arms around his neck and burst into tears. Not many could view the sight unmoved, and, as she caressed and kissed his shaggy head, she looked up to his owner, and said : Oh, sir, I must have this dog! I am rich; take all I have everything-but give me my child's preserver." The gentleman smiled, and patting his dog's head, said: "I am very glad, madam, he has been of service to you, but nothing in the. world could induce me to part with him." The dog looked as though he perfectly understood what they were talking about, and giving his sides a shake, laid himself down at his master's feet with an expression in his large eyes that said plainer than words-" No, nothing shall part us.' THE PREACHER AND THE A METHODIST preacher, several years ago, in Ireland, was journeying to the village where he had to dispense the word of life, according to the usual routine of his duty, and was stopped on his way by three rob bers. One of them seized his bridle-reins, another presented a pistol and demanded his money, and the third was a mere looker-on. "I am a poor preacher of the Gospel," was the reply; if you give me nothing, do not try to take from me the little I have. However, satisfy your thirst, ruin me, and answer it before the God whom I faithfully serve; the little money I have shall be given you." A few shillings was all he had to give. "Well, then, give it to us." In taking his watch from his pocket his saddle-bags were displayed. "What have you got here" was the question asked again. "I cannot say I have nothing in them but religious books, because I have a pair of shoes and a change of linen also." "We must have them." The preacher dismounted. The saddlebags were taken possession of, and no further demands were made. Instantly the preacher began to unbutton his great coat, and to throw it off his shoulders, at the same time asking : Him whose eyelids try the children of men. DR. LIVINGSTONE, AND THE THE freedom of Edinburgh has been conferred on Dr. Livingstone by the TownCouncil of that city. The ceremony took place at a public meeting held in the Queen Street Hall. The Lord Provost presented the burgess-ticket to the African traveller; and he, in return, made pleasant speech about Africa, its people, products, soil, climate, and prospects. Some passages may amuse our readers : a "The Africans look upon us white people as only another tribe of men; and when I attempt to tell what their numbers may be, they put to me the question, "Are they as many as a cloud of locusts?' If I say yes, they ask further, whether, if each of the white people were to take a locust into his hand, they would finish the whole cloud? Of course, I say, I think they would. Then they will add, "Your queen must be very rich indeed, when she has so many people.' "Oh yes,' I reply, she is exceedingly rich;' and I am asked, 'Has she many cows?'-a question I really could never answer; and then when I mention the fact, that I have never seen the queen, they say, "What sort of people must you be never to have seen your chief?' 66 A great many other questions show the same kind of ignorance respecting us. Many European gentlemen have gone to that country to hunt; but, as the Africans have no idea of sport, they wonder to see gentlemen working so hard for a little dry antelope meat, and they put the question to me, "Have your friends no meat at home?' "Not wishing my friends to appear in such a light, I say, 'These gentlemen could have beef every day of their lives if they liked;' but they reply to me, 'Aha, you know better.'-(Laughter.) "When English people think about Africa, they imagine that all the Africans are like the specimens we have in front of the tobacconists' shops. This is not the case at all. That is the real Negro type that is only to be found in the lowest part of the population. The people generally are not altogether black. Many of them are of olive colour, or of the colour of coffee and milk, and usually the higher grades of society are of this lighter colour. I imagine that the type we see on the eminent Egyptian monuments is more near the type of the central population than the tobacco-shop variety." Essays. THE GOOD OLD CREED OF INDEPENDENCY. BRITISH Congregationalism during the two centuries and a half in which it has existed, has been so uniformly evangelical, that the fact has been looked for as a matter of course, and seldom has it excited so much as a passing remark. Our forefathers, though differing from the majority of the Westminster Assembly of Divines in matters of discipline, adopted the same doctrinal standard with them-which was essentially the same as is found in the "Harmony of Protestant Confessions." We hear of no difficulty when, acting at a later day in a separate capacity, they published what has been termed the "Savoy Confession;" and there was certainly none in giving forth, as late as the year 1833, and under the sanction of the Congregational Union, the wellknown "Declaration" of our "faith and order." The trusts under which our denominational property is held-trusts affecting our charities, colleges, chapels, schools-recognise a well-known system of belief, which is not only Protestant, but, in the highest sense, evangelical. A person taking our name and seeking a place amongst us has, by that very fact, been understood to profess himself a Trinitarian, a believer in the atonement, in the doctrine of justification by faith, in the regenerating and sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit, in the inspiration of the Scriptures, and in other kindred and associated truths. These he has been understood to accept, and to be ready to maintain, in the full, unreserved, and simple manner, in which they are ordinarily held by spiritually-minded Christians. We have, in short, found and occupied a middle ground-solid, capacious, and well defined-equally removed from Popish formalism on the one hand, and a Socinian neology on the other-guarded against priestly dictation in matters of religion, and against the speculations of "philosophy, falsely so called." Scorned always by the proud, mistaken continually by the prejudiced, deserted not seldom by the rich, our denomination has never sought to conciliate favour, or to disarm opposition, by a surrender of "the truth as it is in Jesus." And we use that phrase advisedly, intending VOL. XV. thereby what evangelical believers have ordinarily included in it. We have asked for the "old ways," and have walked in them, "not ashamed of the Son of Man, nor of his words, in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation." The merchant, amidst the wealth and refinement of the capital, has heard the same Gospel with the lowly villager. The tutor has known what tenets he was to convey to his pupils. The pastor has known with what doctrine he was expected to feed the church. The missionary has known what tidings he was sent forth to proclaim; and those who prayed for him in his far-off sphere of labour well understood what teaching they were asking the God of heaven to bless. Our speech and our preaching (to quote the Apostle's words) have "not been with the enticing words of man's wisdom." Our gospel has not been "yea and nay." We have not had one system for the initiated, and another for the vulgar. The catechism of the child has agreed with the commentary of the divine. All have been summoned to learn together at the feet of Jesus, and by a common repentance to seek an interest in "the common salvation." It may be asked, then, what is meant by those who tell the world that Independents have no creed? We answer, that if they speak correctly, these persons use the word "creed" merely in a technical sense, for a series of theological propositions beginning with the well-known phrase, "I believe;" or they are referring to certain express "articles of religion”—whether more or fewer than thirty-nine-to the exact words of which men are expected to subscribe. But if by the word "creed" is meant, not a verbal form in which the cardinal doctrines of Christianity are expressed, but the substance of those doctrines, then I will venture to say that the Independents have as solid, as cherished, and (I will add) as wellknown a creed as any body of Christians in the world. I speak not now of any acknowledged formularies or confessions, such as the "Declaration of Faith and Order" before referred to. Our denominational creed is not enshrined M It in any one authorized form, but found under countless forms (though still marked with a substantial identity) in the writings of our divines, in our commentaries and catechisms, our sermons. and tracts, our psalms and hymns of praise. It is a creed not authoritatively imposed, but willingly embraced. embodies not the decrees of councils and synods, but the convictions of living godly men, speaking the truth in love. It is "written not with ink, but by the Spirit of the living God-not on tables of stone, but on the fleshly tables of the heart." Our one authoritative standard-the touchstone by which all else is to be tried-is the Bible. At the same time, if inquiry be made concerning "the things that are most surely believed amongst us," as the sense and meaning of that Bible, they are not far to seek. Our village preachers know them. Our Sunday-school teachers know them. The wayfaring men amongst us know them. They are revealed even unto babes. Possibly some persons would not be displeased if the good old creed of Independency were not held quite so tenaciously as it is. They admire the specious lines of the poet : "For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight; His can't be wrong whose life is in the right." On this we beg to remark, that no man's life is in the right if he cannot say, "The life that I live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God." Objectors sometimes remind us of the famous words of Robinson, called "the father of Independency," that "God hath much more light yet to break out of his holy word;" and we only answer that let that light come when it may, it cannot prove the old light to be darkness. God's "saving health" will only shine out in clearer characters, and will compel a readier acknowledgment; for "other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ." But it may be asked, Will you take credit for the tenacity with which your predecessors and yourselves have adhered to certain abstract dogmas?" And here I would remark that, when a man wants to bring a doctrine into disrepute, he generally calls it a "dogma -a disparaging name for what may happen to be a high and holy thing, a truth which inspiration has taught and miracle has sealed, a truth stamped with the purity and the unchangeableness of the God from whom it came. 'But, after all, these dogmas, or doctrines, are mere abstractions-mere matters of opinion, are they not?" We answer, first, that they relate to the great facts and the great laws of the spiritual universe; and secondly, that in religion, as in other things, opinion is the parent of practice. The doctrine of the Trinity, for example: what at the first sight can appear more abstract? And yet, assuming its truth, it sets forth a great, a fundamental, an everlasting reality-venerable as the very nature of God. And that doctrine, abstract as some would call it tells directly upon your duty in the very highest acts of life. Upon your holding, or non-holding, of the doctrine of the Trinity depends the OBJECT you set before you in worship. The individual who differs from you here, whatever men may say to the contrary, is worshipping and is relying upon a different God. You adore and serve, as the one incomprehensible Jehovah, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; he worships and trusts in the Father onlywithholding from the Son, and from the Spirit, that service and praise which you are rendering. So with the doctrine of the Atonement: if this doctrine be true, as we are assured it is, then the atonement itself is a great fact, on which hinges the moral administration of God towards a sinful race. Assuming an atonement to have been made, the law has received a satisfaction it could not otherwise have; and "a new and living way" has been opened into the Divine presence. The effects of the great propitiatory act must reach to heaven and to hell, giving a peculiar character to the joys of the one and the sufferings of the other. By the view you adopt concerning this, is determined the plea you take with you to the throne of grace, that on which your heart relies while seeking mercy, and that which is the mainspring of your obedience; for this, in the case of every evangelical believer, is the conviction that he has been "bought with a price." "But still (it will be said) considerable latitude may fairly be claimed as to one doctrine which has been much canvassed of late, that of Inspiration. This at least must not be made a matter of rigid definitions. Think of the freedom with which, by our popular authors, the term itself is employed; being used |