never man spake like this man." Who and what then, again we ask, was He? Let our author answer:

Jesus cannot have been merely human, and in all respects constituted as other human minds are. In sober reason there is no choice left us but to believe in an organic, an essential, a constitutional difference between him and all men; in other words, in an incarnation in this unparalleled instance of divinity in humanity. . . . The idea of incarnation in all its meaning is, indeed, incomprehensible; but we can very distinctly comprehend that it must be true nevertheless, because otherwise facts, of which we have the fullest evidence, are absolutely unbelievable.

Here it would seem that the argument might be safely rested; but there remains one other point of access to this remarkable and mysterious personage, to a consideration of which our author still beckons us onward; namely, to an examination of the personal consciousness of Jesus so far forth as it is possible to bring it within the scope of our observation. And for this purpose it will be found that the Gospels furnish unexpected facilities. In the outset we can but remark, his entire unity or oneness with God-perfect, entire, and unbroken-times, places, and circumstances, were powerless to sever this bond. Alike in public and in private, in the temple and in the marketplace, in the domestic circle and on the lonely mountain-top, the words oftenest on his lips were, "The Father," "My Father," "God," "My God." And to the depth and reality of this conscious unity we have his own direct and positive testimony in words like these: "My Father worketh hitherto, and I work." "I and my Father are one." "He that hath seen me hath seen the Father; how sayest thou then, show us the Father?" Once only, and that in the dark hour of his terrible agony upon the cross, does this unity with God seem to have been broken, and then it wrung from him a wail of sorrow such as all his previous sufferings had failed to call forth.

Closely connected with this peculiar sense of conscious unity with God, which no inspired prophet or seer ever possessed, was an ever-present conviction of the unique individuality, and the solitary grandeur of his mission, finding expression in declarations like these: "I am the light of the world;” “I am the resurrection and the life;" "I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly." Nor does he rest even with words like these, but in a still more mysteri

ous strain, if indeed he be but man, he continues: "The Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sin." And again: "The hour is coming in the which the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and they which hear shall live." Nor was this lofty consciousness of personal dignity and superhuman power shaken, even for a single moment, by the pressure of the most adverse circumstances. Thus, in view of his approaching passion, he could cry: "And I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto me;" and in Pilate's judgment-hall he could still say, with calm confidence in the final triumph of his mission: "For this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world." Even when hanging upon the cross, with death staring him in the face, in that hour when, if ever, consciousness is true to itself, he could still say, with the lofty calmness of an unshaken faith, to the penitent thief at his side: "This night shalt thou be with me in Paradise." If Christ were but a man, whence originated this superhuman consciousness? Was it self-delusion or wild enthusiasm? No! It came from neither the one nor the other; Jesus of Nazareth was no self-deluded fanatic or crazed madman. Was it, then, the result of hypocrisy, or of the wily schemes of an ungovernable ambition? Yet again the answer must be, No! He ever persistently refused earthly honors, wealth, and power; deliberately eluding the multitudes when they would have seized him by force to make him king. Will it then be said that it originated in mistake that he misconceived the voice of his own consciousness? Was he, then, also mistaken when he gave utterance to the most momentous truths known to man; truths, as we have seen, that can be found nowhere else? This is incredible. However else we may account for this mysterious consciousness of divine power, we may not ascribe it to mistake. But why dwell upon suppositions like these; they are at war with the whole tenor of his life. No deluded fanatic, wild enthusiast, or mistaken dreamer could have passed thirty years of toilsome life in unbroken obscurity at Nazareth, and then have come forth, suddenly, unheralded, and uninvited, for three years to endure the contradictions of sinners, in a public ministry like to that of Christ, and yet never have yielded, in a single instance, to the infirmities, not to say the sins, incident to human nature. Nor could an ambitious hierophant or schem

ing hypocrite have so vailed his true character, that neither friend nor enemy, his own nor succeeding ages, should have been able to tear off the mask and unvail the hidden deformity. Yet to-day the challenge, "Which of you convinceth me of sin?" which he so fearlessly threw at the feet of his bitterest enemies, remains unanswered.

Nor was the motive of his life less pure and unselfish than we have seen his life itself to be. It was not merely negatively good; on the contrary, he devoted himself to the work of blessing mankind with a degree of self-forgetfulness and self-sacrifice unparalleled in the history of mankind. He loved man, as man, with a love surpassing that which the tenderest father feels for an only son. Nor was this love an evanescent passion; it obviously moulded and controlled his whole life. Moved by it, he toiled, he suffered, nay, he died, for his mission was dearer far to him than life itself; that he could cheerfully surrender; but the redemption of man he would not forego. Nor should it be forgotten in this connection, that he distinctly foresaw and foretold the calamities that should befall him. From the very outset of his ministry, the shadows of Calvary's rugged cross fell upon his pathway. "From that time forth," says the evangelist, "begun Jesus to show his disciples how that he must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the elders, and chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and raised again the third day." Yet his faith faltered not. His friends might turn away from him; his chosen disciples might betray, forsake, and deny him, even with oaths and curses; but with all these things pressing upon him, no shadow of doubt as to the ultimate success of his mission ever intruded itself upon his mind for a single instant. Under the very shadow of the cross itself he could say: "And I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto me." Such was his assurance of a final triumph; and it is only now, after the lapse of nearly two thousand years, that we are beginning to be able to appreciate that which he so clearly foretold, namely, the certain and final triumph of his kingdom. What, then, is the conclusion that must be drawn from these circulated facts? It can be none other than this: he was, as he claimed to be, divine.

ART. IV.-CLASS-MEETINGS.

Treatise on Class-Meetings. By Rev. JOHN MILEY, D.D. With an Introduction by BISHOP MORRIS. Cincinnati: Swormstedt & Poe.

The Class-Leaders' Manual; or, an Essay on the Duties, Qualifications, Motives, and Encouragements of Class-Leaders. To which is prefixed an Introductory Chapter on the History and Scriptural Basis of Class-Meetings. By Rev. CHARLES C. KEYS. New York: Carlton & Porter.

Publications of the Tract Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church on Class-Meetings, and attendance thereupon.

MANY are the peculiarities of Methodisın. Its ecclesiastical system has no parallel among sister Churches. Its itinerancy is a unique institution. Its financial arrangements are probably more efficient than those of any other denomination. Its terms of membership, both as regards entrance and continuance, differ in some important particulars from those of any other religious body. The condition of entrance is simple, and its simplicity is its glory. The only qualification demanded, as a prerequisite of admission, is that the applicant shall feel "a desire to flee from the wrath to come and to be saved from his sins." Following admission to membership on this eminently scriptural condition, is the obligation to "bring forth fruits" corresponding with this desire. These fruits are enu merated by Mr. Wesley in his "General Rules," which have been adopted by the Methodist Episcopal Church. The catalogue is comprehensive and startling-almost appalling; yet the founder of Methodism insisted upon the bearing of these fruits as the condition of continuance in the fellowship of the Methodist societies, emphatically declaring of the General Rules: "If there be any among us who observe them not, who habitually break any of them, let it be known to those who watch over that soul as they who must give account. We will admonish him of the error of his ways. We will bear with him for a season. But if then he repent not, he hath no more place among us. We have delivered our own souls." If from that time to this the Methodist Church had strictly enforced

that declaration, it would have exhibited another and yet more glorious peculiarity. It would now have been a purer Church than the world has seen since the time of Christ and his apostles.

Probably no institution of Methodism has provoked more criticism than the CLASS-MEETING. It has had its assailants even within the pale of the Church; while from other denominations, and from the world, the attacks upon it have been numerous, vigorous, and persistent. But it has been defended with ability and success by writers of our own denomination, and by great and good men in other Churches. Dr. Miley's "Treatise on Class-Meetings" appeared some ten years ago, and placed the whole question of the essentially scriptural nature of the institution, and the duty of Methodists to use it as a means of grace, upon an impregnable basis. Indeed, we are not aware that any respectable attempt has been made to answer its arguments. We do not see how any pious man or woman, earnestly and honestly inquiring after the truth, can resist the force of the reasoning on "the obligations of classmeetings," contained in the third and fourth chapters of the "Treatise." We should be glad to excite a new interest in this valuable dissertation. The "Introduction," by Bishop Morris, could the author's permission be obtained, might be published separately, in tract or other cheap form, with much benefit to the Church.

Dr. Miley's seasonable appeal to the members of the Church on behalf of the class-meeting was preceded by Mr. Keys's "Class-Leaders' Manual." The essay is able and exhaustive, and the title of the book is no misnomer. The work is "The Class-Leaders' Manual;" concise, yet comprehensive; instructive, yet exhortatory and animating. A very valuable book of itself is contained in Appendix B, (pp. 206-222,) on "the duty of preachers with reference to classes." The publications of the Methodist Tract Society, with the "Treatise" and the "Manual," would seem to fill up the measure of teaching necessary on the subject. They are Tract No. 78: "Class-meetings: Ways and Means of rendering them more animating and instructive," full of excellent counsels for both leaders and members; No. 349, "Advices to the Members of the M. E. Church," being an adaptation of Rev. R. Newstead's tract