Like other christians he had his hours of comfort and hours of darkness. Now he writes, "I feel more comfortable in my mind;" now, "I am lamenting my coldness and unfaithfulness.” The warmth of his friendship may be seen in the following extract, of Oct. 1817. "Your let ter, dated Boston, came to me by the last mail. I had formed many conjectures respecting your long and unexpected silence. You could not suppose I had re.moved, you could not be willing to dissolve our friendship. If you were sick and unable to write, you would certainly have dictated a letter to me before this. What could I conclude? Indeed I had well nigh buried you. I had all but relinquished the idea of ever receiving another line from you. I could hardly imagine I yet saw you contending with the vicissitudes of time, but rather with the angelic hosts, surrounding the throne of Eternity. But yet you live, vet, my dearest, most faithful friend, I shall perhaps again see you, again affectionately grasp that hand which I have never received at meeting, but with pleasure, or at parting but with regret."

Speaking of Wickford he says, "Very many of the inhabitants are professing christians. I am never destitute of an opportunity of spending an hour or two in the company of those who love Christ and his religion. This, you know, is no inconsiderable privilege. The Lord, we believe, has wonderderfully blessed Wickford, and we hope has yet mercy in store for us." He was desirous of entering some Theological Seminary when one year had elapsed after he was graduated; but pecuniary embarrassments prevented him. He had however, now come to a settled determination to commence the study of divinity as soon as Providence opened the way.

Dear S-,

W. Academy, Jan. 8, 1818.

Your last bore the marks of cheerfulness and a pious resignation to the hand of Providence. It should ever be the principal object in all our pursuits, to gain and retain this peace of mind. It is worth more than fine gold. Who is fit to live, that does not meet, with fortitude, the vicissitudes of life? Who is fit to die, that is weary of his existence? Of the evils of time we frequently complain, for the unalloyed bliss of eternity we frequently pant, without ever reflecting it is but the mark of the christian, with resignation to endure the former, and with holy patience, to wait for the fruition of the latter. With regard to myself, however humble my hopes of a blessed immortality, I must acknowledge that the bonds which bind me to earth, are by no means strong. I do not mean by this, that I find myself in perfect readiness to depart; but that to me, the enjoyments of life are inconsiderable. If I could persuade myself, I should become a faithful, and consequently, a successful preacher of the gospel, I think it would create a stronger desire for long life, than any other consideration I could mention. But amid the jar of contending passions, how oft do I break out in the language of the Poet, “O for a lodge in some vast wilderness !".

After giving a description of the reformation in Wickford, he says, "several have joined our church; some are yet walking up and down our streets, seeking Jesus sorrowing. As to myself, my dear friend, I cannot tell you any thing comforting. My way seems to lie through the dark valley of despondency. I am sensible I have been, and am now a great sinner, an ungrateful and unprofitable servant. Though frequently on my knees that God

would take away my hard and flinty heart, I can discover little or no alteration in my feelings and views. Oh, I expect while swimming through the sea of this life, to be frequently buried by the rising wave; but hope at times to be able to behold the splendour of the sun. My feel ings with regard to the arduous and responsible task of attempt ing to speak for God, are now as they were when we last conversed on the subject."

He left Wickford, March, 1818. At this time, he writes, "My determinations to be dead to the world and alive to Christ, are of ten renewed, and, must I say, as often weakened? But not to murmur, God can bring great good out of apparent evil. If it seemeth him good that my path lay over thorny hills and through miry vallies, may his kingdom come and will be done."

In May following we find him in an Academy in Camden, Delaware. Here he complains that his cough is more than ever severe ; yet he does not remit his studies.

Having been informed of a revival of religion by a correspondent, in answer, he writes, The flow of feeling and the deep attention usually excited by new converts, forcibly impress upon us the necessity of renewing our covenant with God and his people, and of again solemnly dedicating ourselves to his service: Perhaps no circumstance has a more powerful tendency to excite a spirit of inquiry and appropriate reflections on past imperfections and unfaithfulness. The sainted Father, who has long been travelling on his pilgrimage, and well nigh spent his life in prayer and exhortation, here will see that he has been an unprofitable servant, that the trif

Jing, blandishments of the world have too frequently diverted his attention from christian watchfulness, and, at times, alienated his affections from the only source of all true happiness. Here the young man in the gospel will find renewed proofs of the reality of his profession, and while he is humbled by a consciousness of having manifested too much indifference in concerns so actually important, he will be prepared for a closer walk with his God."

In the summer he was better; in the winter following he first expressed his fears that the seeds of a consumption were sown in his system. Soon after, however, these fears were removed by his getting better. He thought a milder climate would be more congenial to his constitution, now broken down by study and enfeebled by disease. He had conditionally engaged to take the charge of an Academy in one of the southern States, to commence in the fall of 1819. He left Camden to pass the summer with his friends in Rhode-Island. He received a severe cold as he sailed up the Delaware, and when he arrived in Philadelphia, was quite unwell. Still he did not

apprehend danger. The cough, the hectic which flushed his cheek, the internal fever, told his friends there, that his days must be few. Fearless of his disorder, he was about starting for home alone. The Rev. Ira Chase was so kind as to accompany him, and saw him safe in his father's house. He lingered a few days, and fell asleep in Jesus. The letter of the trustees of the Academy at the South, inviting him thither, arrived too late; he was, as we hope, in a better world.* ADELPHŎS.

[Ed.

For the Amer. Bap. Mag.

Figurative language is that in which words are used out of their primary, literal, or grammatical sense. Figures, as they abound most in the early ages of language, and in those languages which are most barren, probably had their origin in necessity for it would be much easier to attach to words already existing, new meanings, which however should bear an analogy to the primary one, than to invent a new term for every new idea. But though necessity might give them birth, it has not guided their use for they are found not only in the infancy of all languages, but in every stage of their progressive improvement.

If it be asked, what is that law of the human mind which leads us to the use of figures, it may be replied; it is the principle of Association, which connects in our minds analogous or related things. This principle enters fundament ally into the constitution of our

nature.

Figures, when judiciously used, give such additional vivacity and energy of expression, and enable one to communicate his thoughts in a manner so much more pleasing and delicate, that they could not well be dispensed with, especially, in poetry and the high wrought productions of the imagination. It is through the medium of this language, which is used to a greater extent and with more boldness of imagery in the poetical parts of Scriptures, than we are accustomed to find elsewhere, that the sacred writers are enabled to rise to such lofty heights of grandeur and sublimity.

The difficulty of interpreting such language, increases in proportion to our distance from the age and country in which it was used. Considering our distance from the Eastern world, and that the languages in which the Bible was originally written, have long since ceased to be spoken, it would not be strange if some of the Scripture figures should to us appear obscure, from our ignorance of the sources of their imagery. Much of this imagery, perhaps the greater part of it, may be common to all countries. But still there will be much that is peculiar. When Solomon says "his countenance is as Lebanon," and of another person, "thine head upon thee is like Carmel," if we knew nothing of the characteristics of these mountains, we should probably be little wiser for his comparisons. Imagery, drawn by the sacred writers from the peculiar rites of the Jewish religion, from the scenery of nature around them, and from customs prevailing with them which have no existence with us, must, without special attention on our part, be obscure.

The necessity of skill in the interpretation of figures, may appear from the multitude of mistakes made on the subject. The Samaritan woman, when informed by our Saviour, that he could give her living water, replied,

66

Sir, thou hast nothing to draw with, and the well is deep from whence then hast thou that living water?" The disciples when cautioned to beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees, "reasoned among themselves, saying, it is because we have tak

en no bread." In like manner, was our Saviour misunderstood, when he said, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." At the institution of the Sacramental Supper, Christ said of the consecrated bread, this is my body, and of the wine, this is my blood of the New Tes tament. The Church of Rome suppose the body and blood of Christ to be literally offered to the communicants; and that this change of the elements, called Transubstantiation, takes place at the consecration of them. The Reformers generally rejected this literal interpretation. But Luther could not wholly divest himself of it: for although he denied the actual change of the elements, yet he supposed Christ's body and blood were united with them at the consecration and thus he supported what is called Consubstantiation. But is this stronger language than Christ used, when he said, (John vi. 53,) Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you ?" And from the context (verse 35) it appears that nothing more is meant than faith in Christ.

:

Mistakes have not been avoided in later times. The injunction, "do not your alms before men to be seen of them," has been supposed by some not only to forbid ostentation, but to require perfect secrecy, in the bestowment of charity. Christians are commanded not to love the world, to cut off a right hand and pluck out a right eye, when they cause them to sin: hence some have inferred that all piety consists in a total disregard of worldly affairs, in voluntary penances; and perhaps in entire seclusion from the world, in a cloister or monastery. "Whosoever shall smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other also." This and similar passages, are

supposed, by some, not only to require a spirit of peace and forgiveness, but absolutely to forbid all defensive wars, all resistance to private wrongs, and even to attacks on one's life. Hence also have arisen those baseless theories respecting the Apocalypse; theories as numerous as the writers on the subject who have adopted the literal interpretation; theories, which, not only from their discrepancy with each other, but with the events they are made to predict, have led the unstable to suspect, and the infidel to deride the truths of Christianity.

But others, endeavouring to avoid the Scylla of an universally literal interpretation, have fallen upon the no less dangerous whirlpool of mysticism: have made the Bible a book of enigmas; and have regarded him as the best interpreter, who could rise to the highest flights on the pinions of fancy, and remain the longest on the wing. These fanciful interpreters will astonish you by their ingenuity in discovering in particular passages, meanings of which no body before them had ever dreamed. Read some plain, historical narrative, the life of Joseph, for instance, and they will promptly and sagely unfold to you its hidden or spiritual meaning. And they seem to think that the excellency of Scripture depends upon the multiplicity of its meanings.

In order to interpret figurative language successfully, we must consider,

1.

The nature of the subject. Is God said to possess hands, eyes, and feet? we must remember that God is a spirit; and that such expressions must of course be taken in a tropical or figurative sense. Is he said to have dwelt in the Jewish temple, to be in the assemblies of his peo

ple, to reside in the hearts of the humble? As he is confined to no place, this can refer only to his agency or influence. Are men sometimes called Gods? are the mountains said to sing, the stones to cry out, and the trees of the field to clap their hands? The nature of the subjects, concerning which these things are predicated, show at once that they are not to be understood literally.

2. The custom of speech, as it regards certain kinds of communication. For example, in laws, histories, and doctrinal instructions, i. e. as to the essentials of them, common usage authorizes us to expect the literal use of words.

The command or prohibition of a law and the sanctions of it, must be couched in literal terms: otherwise it is easy to see in what doubt and perplexity we should be involved as to their meaning. Thus in the institution of a positive christian rite, the word baptize is evidently used literally, though in other places, as when it is applied to sufferings, it is used figuratively.

In histories and doctrines likewise, all the essential parts must be literal; otherwise, there could be no confidence and certainty respecting them. I say essential; for as to mere modes of expression, especially in circumstantials, as the dress in which truths are presented, figurative language is often used. Thus the sacred writer, when giving the history of the destruction of Sodom, represents Jehovah as descending to see whether the inhabitants were as wicked as he had heard. This is according to human mode of speaking. In like manner, in the doctrinal parts of the New Testament, metaphors and parables are used to convey important truths. But this metaphorical and parabolic language is evidently of no other use, than to serve as a medium for the communication of truth.

This second rule is most decidedly at variance not only with that allegorizing of the Jews which they borrowed from the Greeks, and in which they have been followed by the Christian Fathers, but with that spiritualizing of the Scriptures practised by some modern preachers, and also with the attempts of some modern critics to turn the histories and miracles, of the Bible into allegories and fables.

3.

The context and all parallel places. In the passage, "awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light;" the context shows that this is not addressed to those who are literally dead. The same trope is sometimes used to represent different things. The word leaven is used at one time to designate error; at another, a particular vice. (Matt. xvi. 6. 1 Cor. v. 6.)

Parallel places, i. e., other places in which the same subject is treated, will often throw great light on a particular passage. When the same idea is, in all places, described by the same terms, the literal is doubtless the true sense when by different terms, the one will illustrate the other; the literal will help to explain the figurative.

IMLAC.

For the Amer. Bap. Mag.

OBJECTIONS TO A LEARNED MINISTRY CONSIDERED.

Messrs. Editors,

Permit me to notice some ob jections which are entertained against a learned ministry. The baneful effects of unsanctified learning in some of the professed embassadors of Heaven, have been justly thought to militate against the propriety of making human learning, at all necessary