nated in a system of restless and unhealthy disputation, that delighted in casting doubts and difficulties around every subject on which it was exercised. Two objections were started. It was thought impossible that the mouldering tenant of the tomb could again be raised to light and life; it seemed almost beyond the power, even of an almighty arm, to give back the bloom and vigour of existence to the body, on which the worm of corruption had fed and fattened. The difficulty thus insidiously brought forward, St. Paul removes by a single simple instance drawn from the vegetable world. He shews, that in the growth of the blade of corn from the putrescent and buried grain, our own senses are in the constant habit of beholding life and beauty springing from dust and decay. The second objection, referring to the kind of body with which the dead are to be raised, he obviates by an illustration derived from the same operation of nature that as the seed sown springs up in a different dress from that in which it was placed in the ground, but in matter really not different; so shall our bodies be raised again, in a fairer and brighter form, though in substance still the same. Having enlarged upon this happy comparison, he describes in words of divinest beauty, the glorious tabernacle in which our souls shall be enshrined, when the last trumpet shall summon

the spirits of the just. Wrapt in this vision of immortal splendour, he adverts for a moment to the fear and anxieties which men so often display at the approach of death, and the little real cause the Christian has to tremble at his coming; and concludes by shewing what it is that clothes this. king of terrors with his garments of dread; and how we may await his call without apprehension. or dismay. "The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."

In reviewing this passage, the two points which particularly offer themselves to our notice are the first and concluding clauses,-"the sting of death is sin," and, "thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." But the intermediate sentence, "the strength of sin is the law," demands a portion of our attention, and ought not to be passed over without comment. This expression, which is somewhat remarkable, will be best illustrated by referring to other observations of St. Paul upon the same subject, especially to those contained in the seventh chapter of his epistle to the Romans. In the 7th and 8th verses of this chapter he says, "I had not known sin, but by the law; for I had not known lust, except the law had said, Thou shalt not covet. But sin, taking occasion by the

commandment, wrought in me all manner of concupiscence. For without the law, sin was dead." In these and other similar passages, St. Paul is generally understood to signify, that it is the law which has pointed out those actions which are sinful and those which are not; and that before the law was given, men, not being able to distinguish between things forbidden and things unforbidden, were not culpable in committing offences of which they did not know the guilt. But this explanation does not appear to express all the apostle's meaning. He intended, probably, rather to set forth the hideous nature of sin, than to find an excuse for those who had transgressed, in ignorance of their duty. In this view, then, of the expressions above quoted, we conceive St. Paul's argument to have been, that sin is of so detestable and desperate a character, that it places itself in determined opposition to every thing that is holy, to every commandment of God: and takes no delight in any gratification, except inasmuch as such gratification is contrary to the precepts of religion. For he declares, that he should not have known lust, except the law had said, Thou shalt not covet. Thus, when the serpent accosted our first parent in the garden of Eden, he invited her to taste, not those fruits of which she might freely partake, but the produce of that very tree which

God himself had forbidden her to touch. And on the same principle does Satan tempt us to disobedience. Of those amusements and occupations which are perfectly and entirely innocent, few, comparatively speaking, are very fond; whilst the votaries of unlawful pleasures are seen to neglect both their temporal and spiritual concerns, in order to indulge their unholy propensities. We are not in general sufficiently aware of this deceitfulness of the heart; we follow the pursuits to which our own degraded appetites incline us, without considering that we are so impelled by the wiles of the sin which reigns within us, and incites us to every action which the law of God condemns. Had the tree of knowledge, placed by God in paradise, been permitted to his first creatures, and the test of their obedience been imposed on some other plant, Satan would never have beguiled them to gather that of which they might freely eat; but would have tempted them to offend, by extolling the gratification to be derived from the very fruit from which they were commanded to abstain. How mistrustful then ought we in all circumstances to be of ourselves; and when we feel a spirit within us, urging us strongly to any particular indulgence or pursuit, we must try that spirit, whether it be of God. Our pleasures and recreations, especially those to which we are

passionately addicted, must be narrowly and impartially watched; must be examined by the test of God's written word, and avoided, if, as will frequently happen, they are found to be incompatible with Christian purity and habitual piety. And sin, my brethren, which is thus endeavouring at every moment of our lives to lead us away from God; and, by stimulating our unholy appetites and affections, is seeking to destroy the influence of religion in our hearts; will, if we do not withstand its allurements, follow us to the grave. But it will come wearing a far different aspect from that which it bore, when it first tempted us astray. It was robed then in bright and glittering colours; it seemed fair and joyous to our view; it beckoned us on to seeming gra tification and delight; it decked the future in a hue of gladness; it promised us happiness if we would tread its flowery paths, and revel in its bowers of ease. But it assumes no such appearance of gaiety, it presents no such prospect of enjoyment, when it visits the last moments of the unconverted sinner. It is stripped then of all its disguise; it stands in its own hideous and naked deformity. It holds out no anticipations of luxury to come; it offers no indulgence as the reward of its service. In the sunshine of health and strength, it threw a false glare of light around its own deceptions, and dressed in roseate colours