of life,' iu the beginning of the Bible, and of a tree of life' in the end too; that was in Adam's paradise on earth; this, in St. John's paradise in heaven: but that did bear but the first-fruits of life, the earnest of an after fulness; this bare life in abundance, for it bare twelve manner of fruits, and that every month; which shows both the completeness and eternity of that glory which we expect. And as the tree of paradise was but a Sacrament of life in Heaven, so paradise itself was but a Sacrament of Heaven. Certainly, Adam was placed among the dark and shady leaves of the garden, that he might, in an emblem, acknowledge that he was as yet but in the shadow of life, the substance whereof he was elsewhere to receive. Even when the church was pure, it was not perfect; it had an age of infancy, when it had a state of innocence. Glory was not communicated unto Adam himself, without the veil of a Sacrament; the light of God did not shine on paradise with a spreading and immediate ray even there it was mixed with shadows, and represented only in a sacramental reflex, not in its own direct and proper brightness. The Israelites in the wilderness had light indeed, but it was in a cloud; and they had the presence of God in the Ark, but it was under several coverings; and they had the light of God shining on the face of Moses, but it was under the veil; and Moses himself did see God, but it in a cloud so incapable is the church, while encompassed with a body of sin, to see the lustre of that glory which is expected. ...Hereafter our bodies shall be overclothed with a spiritual glory, by a real union unto Christ in his kingdom: mean time, that spiritual glory which we groan after, is here over-clothed with weak and visible elements, by a sacramental union at his table. Then shall sense be exalted, and made a fit subject of glory; here is glory humbled and made a fit object of sense: "Then shall we see as we are seen, face to face; here we see but as in a glass darkly;" in the glass of the creature,-in the glass of the word,-in the glass of the sacraments. And surely, these are in themselves clear and bright glasses, yet we see even in them but darkly in regard of that vapour and steam which exhaleth from our corrupt nature, when we use them and even on these doth our soul look through other dark glasses, the windows of sense. But yet at the best, they are but glasses, whose properties are to present nothing but the pattern, the shadow, the type of those things which are, in their substance, quite behind us, and therefore out of sight. So then in general, the nature of a sacrament is to be the representative of a substance--the sign of a covenant-the seal of a purchase-the figure of a body-the witness of our faith-the earnest of our hope-the presence of things distant— the sight of things absent-the taste of things unconceivable-and the knowledge of things that are past knowledge."

was

The short, but pleasing and instructive tract on the Fall and Rising of Peter,' will not require from us any criticism beyond this brief notice. It was republished some years since, we do not know with what success.

The Annotations on the Book of Ecclesiastes,' do not strike us as among the most interesting of the compositions of Dr. Reynolds; they contain, however, much that is weighty and instructive, and exhibit traces of that lively and graceful fancy which occasionally flings its bright hues over the most sterile of his subjects.

The Sermons' of Dr. Reynolds occupy part of the third and fourth volumes and the whole of the fifth in this edition. After the critical comments we have already had occasion to make, and the illustrative examples that we have cited, it seems almost unnecessary for us to give a distinct section to these compositions. They must not, however, be wholly past by. They form too valuable a portion of their pious and eloquent Author's works, to admit of so summary a dismission. The genius of Reynolds was peculiarly adapted to these exercises. With an active imagination, a ready and discriminative command of words, great stores of knowledge, and a remarkable facility in bringing them in contact with his subject, he could not but succeed in a species of composition, which these qualities are so peculiarly fitted to adorn. The Sermons are not remarkable for compactness of structure, nor do they frequently exhibit forcible and luminous trains of reasoning. But they contain extensive learning happily applied, much beauty of illustration, clear statement, and eloquent appeal; they bear the traces, not to be mistaken, of exalted piety and deep anxiety concerning the souls of men; and if they produce on all readers the same effect that they have on us, they will be placed among the staple productions of their class. Not that we will put ourselves forward as vouchers for all the Bishop's opinions. For his theological sentiments, we believe we might; but his notions of ecclesiastical discipline are much less to our taste. In his sermon on the Peace of Jerusalem,' preached in 1657, he denounces as troublers of her tranquillity, those who deny the coercive power of the magistrate in matters of religion, that so there may be no hedge to keep the wolves ' out,' and gives broad hints about the danger of allowing the liberty of prophesying. His assize sermon, 1634, entitled The Shields of the Earth,' has a more elaborate exposition of the same doctrine, in which it is supported by the examples of David, Hezekiah, Jehoshaphat, Josiah, and-Constantine! A tolerable leap this, from the Jewish dispensation, quite over the Gospel, to the blessed supremacy of the sanguinary Byzantine! This is followed up by a broad and unqualified ascription to the Church, of spiritual jurisdiction, by virtue of the 'keys,' and to princes, of jurisdiction coercive, or the power of the sword, which, under external, secular, and corporal

'penalties, maketh provision for the defence of truth, worship of God, and purity of religion. Truth!-Princes then are infallible, or they may chance to patronise falsehood. But these melancholy absurdities contain neither more nor less than the barefaced sophistry by which the most atrocious and bloody usurpations have been defended. The power of the keys, the coercive jurisdiction of princes, directing the secular arm for the preservation of the purity of religion;-what is this but the pretext, and-quantum valeat-the vindication of the Inquisition of Spain, and the Saint Barthelemi of France? Reynolds was no Erastian; still less was he a Papist; but most assuredly, these unguarded expressions imply fatal concessions both to Erastianism and to Rome. And he follows up these pithy intimations by an energetic recommendation to the judges of assize, that they should pay special regard to the causes of God;' and that they should enforce the 'succour and dignity of his church, the purity and support of his worship, the frequenting of his temple, the punishing of his enemies, the encouraging of his ministers.'

While we are in the humour for censure, we shall advert to an occasional coarseness of language; the fault of the age to a certain extent, but always indicating some want of tact in the writer who stoops to it. The Bishop is, moreover, at times a little fantastic in his phrases; as when, for instance, in a funeral sermon for a friend, he tells us, that the 'worthy 'gentleman,' with one spring of his soul,' gave a sudden leap from earth to heaven.' We learn, moreover, that his ⚫ love was not like a pill that must be wrapped in something ' else before a man can swallow it;' and we are further told, that some men's love is like lemons, cold within, and hot without.' But all these slips are lost sight of in the predominance of better materials, and we shall devote the remainder of this article to selections of a higher kind.

Among the sermons of Dr. Reynolds, we are disposed, on the whole, to give the preference to those on the fourteenth chapter of Hosea. They are seven in number, and they were preached on as many days of national fasting and humiliation. Passages of great beauty might be easily found to a considerable extent; but we must content ourselves with an example or two from among those that will most conveniently adapt themselves to our limits, as well as serve to illustrate our remarks. There is much force in the following description of the course of sin.

<Consider it in the curse that belongs to it; "a roll written within and without" with curses. Look outward; and behold a curse in the creature, vanity, emptiness, vexation, disappointments; every VOL. XXVII. N.S.

C

creature armed with a sting, to revenge its Maker's quarrel. Look inward; and behold a curse in the conscience, accusing, witnessing, condemning, haling to the tribunal of vengeance; first, defiling with the allowance, and after, terrifying with the remembrance of sin.— Look upward; and behold a curse in the heavens, the wrath of God revealed from thence upon all unrighteousness. Look downward; and behold a curse in the earth: death ready to put a period to all the pleasures of sin, and, like a trap-door, to let down into hell, where nothing of sin will remain, but the worm and the fire. Look into the Scripture, and see the curse there described; an "everlasting banishment" from the glory of God's presence: an "everlasting destruction" by the glory of his power. The Lord showing the jealousy of his justice, the unsearchableness of his severity, the unconceivableness of his strength, the bottomless guilt and malignity of sin, in the everlasting destruction of ungodly men, and in the everlasting preserving of them to feel that destruction.'

We shall now give an example of the Bishop's talent for metaphysical statement and illustration.

There is in man, by nature, a power or faculty which we call free-will, whereunto belongeth such an indifferency and indeterminacy in the manner of working, that whether a man will a thing, or nill it, choose it, or turn from it, he doth in neither move contrary to his own natural principles of working. A stone, moving downward, doth move naturally; upward, contrary to its nature,—and so, violently. By which way soever the will moves, it moves according to the condition of its created being,-wherein it was so made, as when it chose one part of a contradiction, it retained an inward and fundamental habitude unto the other; like those gates, which are so made, as that they open both ways. So that as the tongue, which was wont to swear or blaspheme, when it is converted, doth, by the force of the same faculty of speaking, being newly sanctified, utter holy and gracious speeches ;-so the will, which, being corrupted, did choose evil and only evil, being sanctified, doth use the same manner of operation in choosing that which is good; the created nature of it remaining still one and the same, being now guided and sanctified by different principles. This we speak only with respect to the natural manner of its working: for if we speak of liberty in a moral or theological sense, so it is certain, that the more the will of man doth observe the right order of its proper objects, and last end, the more free and noble it is; the very highest perfection of free-will standing in an immutable adherency unto God, as the ultimate end of the creature,-and all ability of receding or falling from him being the deficiency, and not the perfection of free-will; and therefore the more the will of man doth cast off and reject God, the more base, servile, and captive it grows. In which sense we affirm against the papists, that by nature, man, since the fall of Adam, hath no freewill or natural power to believe and convert unto God, or to prepare himself thereunto.'

The Treatise of the Passions and Faculties of the Soul of 'Man, with the several Dignities and Corruptions thereunto

'belonging,' was primarily a juvenile production; but, previously to publication, it received so much revision as to draw from its Author the observation that it is almost as charge' able to repair and set right an old house, as to erect a new 'one.' It is an interesting production, more distinguished by its pleasing composition, than by profound metaphysical

acumen.

We have now gone through the works of Bishop Reynolds, mingling with our general criticisms, examples sufficiently extensive and varied to give a satisfactory view of his character and qualities as a writer and thinker; we shall, however, add a few specimens which we transcribed as we passed through the volumes, for the purpose of exhibiting the readiness, and, frequently, the felicity, with which he called up illustrations to aid the effect of his composition. When we have done this, and pointed out the facilities of reference afforded to the readers of this edition, by an index of Scriptures, and copious tables of contents, we shall have closed our critical estimate.

The philosopher tells us of a sea, wherein by the hollowness of the earth under it, or some whirling and attractive property that sucks the vessel into it, ships used to be cast away in the midst of a calm; even so many men's souls do gently perish in the midst of their own securities and presumptions. As the fish polypus changeth himself into the colour of the rock, and then devours those that come thither for shelter; so do men shape their mispersuasions into a form of Christ and faith in him, and destroy themselves.'

When I see a river without any sensible noise or motion, I am ready to esteem it a standing pool; but when I look further, and there observe what huge engines it carries about, and what weighty bodies it rolleth before it,-I then believe a strength in it which I did not see. So when I see the word of Christ rouse up the rage and lusts of men, and force them to set up against it strong holds and high imaginations, even the wisdom and strength of the gates of hell to keep it out; I must needs then conclude that it is indeed "virga virtutis," a rod of strength. Vol. II. pp. 140-141.

*

The Lord sent an angel to remove the stone from the mouth of the sepulchre; not to supply any want of power in him, who could himself have rolled away the stone with one of his fingers; but, as a judge, when the law is satisfied, sendeth an officer to open the prison-doors to him who hath made that satisfaction; so the Father, to testify that his justice was fully satisfied with the price which his Son had paid, sent an officer of Heaven to open the doors of the grave, and, as it were, to hold away the hanging, while his Lord, came forth of his bedchamber.'

The question is, whether sins of ignorance may be reigning sins? To which I answer, that it is not man's knowledge of a king which