fairly to his audience. No gown hides the symmetry of his person: his figure is fully seen. Thoughtfulness is impressed on every feature, but there is no agitation, no nervous contortion. The whole body is at ease; every limb moves naturally; grace is in every action; and there is not the shadow of affectation. Surely this man understands his vocation, and is the master of his work. The Hymn-Book is opened, and the worship proceeds. But what is this? We never understood these hymns before. They are living; they speak; they have meaning; they reveal things sacred; a fire, a spirit, a sincerity is in them; they are poetry; they strike our imagination; they come home to our faith; they thrill through our souls; they are like sunshine upon our affections; they enrapture and excite our devotions. Surely this is worship. The secret of this is seen. The soul of the Preacher passes into the hymn; touches the sense; gives inspiration to the sentiment; impresses with emphasis the meaning of every syllable; and infuses its own feeling through the whole. The voice aids the effect: it is clear, full, deep, sonorous, finely modulated,-its softer tones relieved by a deep bass.

The prayer begins,-begins with great deliberation. Reverence is manifest, and this inspires reverence in the whole congregation. Not a movement is heard; all is still. and motionless. Words are few, and slowly uttered, at first; but every word contains a thought; these thoughts accumulate in the exercise, and, as they increase, seem to expand the views and elevate the feelings,-devotion gathers volume in the exercise. Gradually the world seems to be left behind; sensible things disappear; even the idea of the presence of the congregation is lost in the idea of the presence of God. Pleading is heard; the Divine Majesty seems near; the blood of the covenant is appealed to, and the "Man at the right hand of God" sought. Confession of sin, deprecation of the Divine wrath and anger, the blessings of grace, the joys of salvation, are themes of importunate supplication. Then passing on to the state of the world, the spread of the Gospel, the overthrow of idolatry

and superstition, become the subjects of intercession of the Prophet upon his knees before God. This is not eloquence; it is more than eloquence; it is compassion,-it is love,—it is faith. The Preacher is subdued, -the people are subdued, -all hearts are stirred: the Preacher looks different,-the people look different: the serene air of mental power which sat upon the countenance of the one is gone; and the curiosity and sense of delight, a little while ago manifested by the others, are also gone. A new element has evidently entered the mind of both. Deep emotions have taken the place of pleasurable and tranquil feelings; something profoundly agitating is going on in the soul of the Preacher, and the contagion has extended to the people. He is still calm and self-possessed; but look at that eye, see the quiver of those lips, listen to that voice. What is this? He has obtained a glimpse of Calvary, of the spiritual world, of eternity, and now his mental conceptions are fused with the new element of a living faith.

The

The sermon comes at length. The exordium is clear; the subject is opened; the basis of the discourse is plainly laid down; the divisions are announced, so that the audience may follow the Preacher in his arguments and illustrations. "The Lord is raised up out of His holy habitation," this is the theme: "Be silent before Him," this is the duty. manner of the "rising up of the Lord" is discussed. A wide range is sketched; the operations of God in nations, in the church, in the Christian field, are elucidated; the signs of this are given, and the proofs and evidence exhibited. He is now rising up; events indicate this; the world is in a transition state; all are looking for the coming of the Lord. Silence is observed, and this silence is the duty of all. The argument is clear, but cumulative; thought follows thought; all appropriate; and the last always strengthening the one preceding. But there is more than thought. Genius begins to kindle; coruscation after coruscation flashes forth; figures, symbols,—not in a series, not as an elaborate and prepared performance, but as jets of sparkling sentiment thrown, as diamonds, into the body of the sermon, which would have been complete without them;

or as stars in the pure ether, which is yet perfect in its own wondrous simplicity. These beauties grow out of emotion, -they are the effect of deep feeling; impassioned reason becomes poetic; and though the discourse began in prose, it ends in poetry. Reason retains her place all through, as the pathway of the soul in her progress: but the road is not the only object looked at; the heavens above, and the earth beneath, are all brought in to complete the picture. Pathos is intermingled with beauty and sublimity; and of all the peculiarities belonging to Mr. Watson, pathos was the finest. It did not on this occasion, or on any other, manifest itself in tears,- he never wept; it did not display itself in sighs, groans, or exclamations,-he never vociferated; it did not show itself by any extravagant gesture or violent action,—he never became the actor. No: it was simply a pathos of the heart,-tender, delicate, deep; it mingled itself in his words, which became gentle as the dying breezes of evening: the fire became spent; the glow of genius subsided; the lofty flights of imagination ended; the orator ceased his entrancing fascinations; the heart seemed subdued into the affectionate palpitations of the child; he spoke of love, and felt all its tenderness.

In this sermon some peculiarities of manner were observable. The action was never great, and in the beginning rather slow and measured, but a perfect model of its kind. As the difficulties of a beginning, however, were cleared, and the depths reached, the right hand began to move; then it was stretched out, but never raised higher than the breast; it was never clenched, but the forefinger of a most delicate and beautiful hand stretched out, as in a pointing attitude. Only one deviation from this gesture was observable. When greatly excited, when profoundly feeling the weight of some great truth, before giving utterance to it, and as if pausing for a moment, to find for it a more perfect form, he thrust his right hand into his bosom, and then announced the thought in that peculiar posture. One other singularity may be noticed: when he had finished one of his most beautiful climaxes of reasoning or fancy, he gave his head a majestic nod, with a sort of backward

movement, as if he intended to signify to his hearers, that they were then, at that point, to consider the matter finished; and, moreover, this nod, it must be confessed, had somewhat of a defiant air about it, as if to intimate to the sceptic that he had no fear of his criticism. In this service there was that mixture of goodness and greatness which constitutes the perfection of such hallowed exercises. The devotional part was as exalted as the intellectual: a solemnity and a sweetness combined characterized the prayers; whilst the sermon conveyed to the mind the most exalted truths of the Gospel.

Silence followed. The congregation appeared profoundly moved. They seemed in no haste to go away. None smiled, or exchanged greetings with each other. They retired with gravity; and, as they passed along, no one heard a word of criticism. The impression seemed too deep for garrulity; the doctrine of the discourse had passed from the imagination to the heart and conscience; and conscience is always more silent than fancy.—London Quarterly Review.

ANATHEMAS.

WELL said Solomon that there is nothing new under the sun. Cursing and bitterness are not new. Nay, nor are even the forms of cursing new, nor the graduation of curses. "It is to be noted," says the rubric of the Pontifical, "that excommunication is threefold; namely, minor (lesser), major (greater), and anathema." The Romanists who have burnt so many Jews, and who think it pious to hate the children of Abraham, have borrowed these degrees of malediction from the Synagogue, although they may not own it. For the Jews have had a similar tripartition of the curse from times of old; and accordingly in their practice we find the lesser or separation, the greater or excommunication, and, the most terrible of all, the snow or anathema. Buxtorf the younger, in his "Rabbinical Lexicon," gives an anathema from an ancient Hebrew manuscript; and we translate it here, as more seldom heard

of by far, than the multiform maledictions that resound every day from Romish altars, yet not less horrid :— "By the sentence of the Lord of Lords. Let N., the son of N., be accursed in both houses of judgments. In them that are above (the judgments of heaven), and in them that are beneath (the judgments of hell). And by the curse of the Holy Ones above. And by the curse of the seraphim and the angels serving at the throne, And by the curse of all the congregation, both great and small. And let great and perpetual plagues come upon him, and diseases great and horrible. And let his house be a habitation of dragons; and his constellation be darkened under clouds. Let him be given up to indignation, to wrath, and to burning anger. Let his carcase be east out to wild beasts and serpents. Let enemies and accusers rejoice over him. Let his gold and silver be given to strangers. Let all his children be exposed at the gates of his enemies. At his doom let all generations be amazed. Let him be accursed from the mouth of Adiriron and Achtariél; from the mouth of Sandalphon and Handariél; from the mouth of Ansisiél and Patchiél; from the mouth of Seraphiél and Zaganzaél; from the mouth of Michael and Gabriel; from the mouth of Raphael and Mesharetiél. And let him be accursed from the mouth of Tsabtsabib and from the mouth of Habhabib, who is the Lord, the Great God. And from the mouth of the seventy names of the Great King, and on the part of Tsortak, the great Chancellor." Let him be swallowed up like Korah and his congregation. Let his soul depart in terror and with great trembling. Let the rebuke of the Lord kill him. Let him be strangled like Ahitophel in his device. Let his leprosy be like the leprosy of Gehazi, and let him not be raised up again after his fall. In the graves of Israel let him not find burial. To strangers let his wife be given, and when he is dying let others take her away—(1) Under this curse be N., the son of N.; and let this be his inheritance. But

• The reader will not expect an account of the angelic beings here named. Jewish invention has given to each his office.