ARCHDEACON WILBERFORCE'S SERMONS.

FROM a series of Sermons preached before the Court, and published by Royal " command," the reader has a right to expect some- thing ; nor will his expectations be disappointed in this volume. The Sermons of Archdeacon WILBERFORCE are not merely an ear- nest exhortation to a religious life, expressed in composition forcible yet refined, but they exhibit a distinctness of character which almost entitles them to the rare merit of originality—not, of course, in matter, which is exhausted in theology, but in mode.

Part of this originality is attributable to the author's mind, which is almost poetical in a sober richness of thought without exaggera- tion, and part to his studies, which, besides the usual acquire- ments of a sound divine, seem to have lain among the subtile questions of the schoolmen. But the fresh yet not offensive pecu- liarity which these Sermons possess arises in a great measure front the religious views of the author. So far as we can presume to offer a judgment upon such a subject, there is no doctrine through out the volume which savours of either Popish at Tragtariau yiewt; nor indeed anything that is not strictly conformable to our Articles in the usual acceptation,—unless it be the views upon the very diffi- cult questions of free-will and election. Mr. WILBERFORCE, how- ever, holds a doctrine which, though not peculiar to Rome, is in practice, we think, more Popish than Protestant : we mean the personality of religion. In his idea, Christianity is not a mere intellectual abstraction, or even a purely intellectual entity, but a thing of life ; if not flesh and blood, yet to become part of our flesh and blood, so as to be the main object of our being, and all worldly employments, even the highest, to be considered as a means, not " rested in as an end." In this view, the sacraments take a real and tangible effect as well as form ; grace and other mysteries are not a cold and abstract something, or a wonder- working fit of excitement, but a plain though powerful every- day influence. These doctrines, in some form of statement, are not indeed peculiar to any sect, or even to Christianity, but belong to all religions that are so far removed from barbarism as to have a " book." But our divine goes farther. Discarding the " half- Infidel " interpretations that have attempted to explain away the Scriptural mention of demons and angels, Mr. WILBERFORCE be- lieves not only in their earthly sojourn with active powers, during Scriptural times, but that their condition is now unaltered ; that angelic and demoniac personages are ever present, though not palpable,—the daemons ready to tempt and entice to sin, whether or not the angels are as available for help. Bence it follows, that the Christian dispensation is not a thing of the nature of a mere creed or opinion, but a part of the system of the universe, much greater than the material existences about us ; the whole of which, in a religious sense, may be truly said to be a dream, and religion the only reality.

In minds of a sensuous and imaginative cast, this view gives body, spirit, and elegance to what would otherwise be a cold theory or a not very intelligible myth ; as we may see in the system of ancient Paganism. Amid an ignorant and credulous people, this persuasion will run riot in rank superstition ; as is shown in the monstrous and monkish tales of the middle ages, or the idolatrous worship that prevails in very unenlightened Roman Catholic

countries. In a civilized and inquiring time, where fanatical enthusiasm is stifled by the atmosphere of public opinion unless in those persons whose minds are naturally unhealthy, the idea that we are ever surrounded by superior beings, and that even the Divinity is personally present, will doubtless conduce to holiness both of deed and thought, provided that persuasion can always be sustained. In a critical point of view, which is what we have here to do with, the persuasion will give warmth, richness, and body to the productions of the individuals entertaining it. This is seen in the Roman Church, where a sensuous art (derived from Paganism) gairi,-by means of gorgeous ceremonies, an embodied presence to the mystics of religion ; forced upon the senses the idea of personality in angelic and even divine natures, by the aid of painting and sculpture ; inculcated the same idea, though not so directly, by the imposing structures of ecclesiastical architecture ; and swelled, as a climax, into the tremendous mystery of the real presence, in the sacrifice of the mass.

In the Sermons before us, this sentiment is exhibited after a peculiar mode, at least peculiar as regards modern sermons. The professional studies and natural bent of the preacher have combined together to give a present and embodied form to the speculations of metaphysical science and the subtilties of the schoolmen. Time, space, free-will, and other questions equally knotty, as well as the mysteries of religion, are brought forward and distinctly vivified. There is even something of poetry in the style of Mr. WILBER- FORCE, if poetry consists in the power of presenting old things in a new light and endowing abstract knowledge with life and use.

This rare power is of course not always operating, though we think it influences the writer's treatment where it is not visibly perceived ; and we would not have it supposed that the preacher's logic is always unassailable or even sound. We are considering the volume as a literary production, and touch no further on theology than as it may be necessary to illustrate the literature. A chaplain, especially a court chaplain, is always obnoxious to the suspicion of too much lenity to what we call the " great," which some counterbalance by diatribes against dishonesty and drunken- ness, and other vices that spring from the circumstances of the poor. There is none of this vulgar servility in the sermons before us. They rarely treat of particular sins, except those sins which are incidental to human nature ; nor could any one from internal evidence pro- nounce before what class of society they were preached, though it might be inferred from the matter and style that the audience was educated and refined. In saying this, however, we would not be understood to imply that the discourses are unintelligible to the poor. The power possessed by the author of animating ab- stractions, and driving them home to our experience, prevents this defect. Take for instance the following ingenious and rather refined inquiry into time ; which is not only made intelligible but even interesting to any intellect.

TIME.

There are few words much oftener in our months than that short but most Important word, Time. In one sense, the thought of it seems to mingle itself with almost everything which we do. It is the long measure of our labour, expectation, and pain; it is the scanty measure of our rest and joy. Its short- ness or its length are continually given as our reason for doing, or leaving un- done, the various works which concern our station, our calling, our family, our souls. And yet, with all this frequent mention of it, there are perhaps few things shout which men really think less; few things, I mean, upon which they have kma real settled thought. The more we do think upon it, the deeper and the more difficult will be the subjects which will open before us ; the richer too

will they prove in matters for moat profitable meditation.

Indeed, even those which I have spoken of as more abstruse and difficult are full of the most practical interest : what time is ; what we mean by the word; and whether there is really any such thing. What present time is ; which it is most difficult to conceive if we try it by more exact thought than we com- monly bestow on it ; for even as we try to catch it, though but in idea, it slips by us. Subdivide our measure as we may, we never actually reach it. It was future—it is past ; it is the meeting-point of these two, and itself, it seems, is not. And so, again, whether there is really any future time : whether it can exist, except in our idea, before it is. Or whether there can be any past time : what that can he which is no more ; whose track of light has vanished from us in the darkness ; which is as a shadow that swept by us, and is gone.

PAST TIME AND ITS EFFECTS.

And this suggests to us the two remarkable characters which together make up the best account we can give of time. The one—how completely, except in its issue, it passes from us ; the other—how entirely, in that issue, it ever abides with us. In itself, how completely dues it pass away. Past time, with all its expectations, pains, and pleasures, how is it gone from us ! The pleasures and the pains of childhood, of youth, nay even of the last year, where are they? Great and engrossing as they seemed whilst their phantasms came up upon our view, how did they turn, as they passed by us, into smoke and nothingness; how did they leave us "as a shadow which departeth "! How utterly spent are they, except in their issues! And in them how does past time still abide with us ; haunt us, so that we cannot shake it off; nay, mingle with our being and become part of us ! In this sense, how does every minute which was not spent in sleep and unconsciousness still cling to us I For all has had some issue. Above all, it is a necessary consequence of our redeemed condition, of our being subject to the influences of the blessed Spirit, that every commonest thing which we have done—our acts of business, our acts of pleasure, the play of our tempers, as well as our greater acts of self-denial, of prayer and com- munion with God—that all of these have been helping to mould and frame us; to make us what we now are. And thus, in this their issue, each is with us still. Every conversation has helped to make us more sincere and truthful, or it has left us hollower and more false. Every action has tended more to strengthen the capricious tyranny of our self-will, or to bring us further under the blessed liberty of Christ's law. We are the sum of all this past time.

We will pass from the metaphysical to the actual, for an example of the manner in which the preacher handles a favourite subject of the pulpit—a sketch of character—the character of an imperfect or worldly Christian. It is from the sermon on the character of Balsam.

THE HALF-HEARTED CHRISTIAN.

And the lesson to be learned from such a character is surely plain for us. What a revelation is there here of the heart of many besides Balsam I How probable is it that some of us are even now entangled in his snare I How many live and die after his miserable pattern I

For what else is this character than that of the half-hearted Christian? He, too, has great gifts of God ; he has been grafted into Christ's body ; the Holy Spirit has been poured out on him; he knows the blessedness of serving God; he longs to die the death of the righteous; his heart kindles as he hears God's word, or takes his place in the congregation of the faithful; and, like Balsam, be can speak well of the things of God. Nay, it may be he goes even further : he gives up something for God ; he is not exactly what he would be if he did not believe in God and judgment; he refuses some of the "rewards of divina- tion "; he gives up some honours, the gratification of some appetites, some advantages, some ways of pleasing himself, some opportunity of shining or of rising in the world, something which has attractions for him, but which he cannot enjoy without going directly counter to the will of God: for this open rebellion he is not yet ripe. Yet, in every such instance, he makes an unwilling and a partial sacrifice ; he keeps back something; be goes as near as he dares to sin ; he wishes that he could go further; he allows some evil affection, some unholy passion, some unlawful practice, to abide within his soul. He is failing in his trial ; failing in such little instances, perhaps, that be does not know what it is that he is doing. He looks, it may be, to some great sacrifices which be has made for right, to some signal instance in which he sent back the world's messengers, and refused its bribes ; and he takes comfort from the view; though the evil remains in him ; though, in little things and on smaller occasions, he is yield- ing to it ; though be longs, if he dared, to yield to it altogether. He is just what Balsam was; not a hypocrite in the sense of wilfully deceiving any, by professing feelings and principles which be knows are not within him, but an uncertain, irresolute, wavering, half- hearted man; with many better principles and feelings, but withal with an under.growth of evil which he will not utterly root out, and which, therefore, grows upon him, and promises too surely to choke all his nobler hopes, all his holier purposes, and, at last, to destroy the very spiritual life of his soul.