loss, or repairing the damage, hold her upon her course till the wealth with which he had freighted her were discharged in the emporium of her destination?

And was not the chef d'œuvre of infinite skill, the bearer of God's natural image, and fraught with relations and capabilities high as the life of heaven, and far-reaching as eternity-was not he infinitely and justly dearer to him than the most expressive marble to the sculptor, or the marvelous chronometer to its inventor, or the ship to its owner?

Be it that God's regard for his property in man was lessened by the full amount of the value detracted from it by its contact with moral evil; was it not his property still? And was it not seized of value enough to induce a continued, though it was indeed a diminished regard? And was not that regard an adequate motive for maintaining the primary purpose for which man had been ushered upon the theater of divine manifestation? especially if we keep in mind that that primary purpose regarded him, even apart from his inherent worth, as the central object to which the mundane creation and the plan of its providential government were alike related? for the carrying forward of that purpose in his absence had been the dramatic absurdity of leaving out the only part which could give interest and significance to the whole.

If, then, neither the artist, the mechanician, the merchant destroys, or suffers the loss of, his valuable property for a reparable defect; if the statue regains its lost expression, the watch its moving power, and the merchant vessel is guided to its destined mart,

"Bearing the wealth of Ormus or of Ind,"

shall not God's injured image be also re-expressed in the human soul? Shall not rectified affection resupply the motive power of holy action? And shall not the damaged vessel-its helm still in His hand who freighted it with merchandise befitting the mart of heaven, and a celestial influence refilling the canvas of its affections-shall it not sail away from the scene of its incipient disaster, till, its voyage ended, its wealth of life and bliss shall be unfolded in the light of the great metropolis of the universe? Or, to change the allusion, shall a sinning yet godlike humanity be dropped from its crowning position in

that majestic arch of divine purposes which spans the two eternities? For, being the final object of those purposes, and it being impossible for a purpose to exist without an object, the displacement of the one had been the disruption of the other.

Being now near the pause of our present argument, it may be proper to notify the reader of what, for want of space, must be deferred to a more opportune occasion. Such occasion may be taken to notice how the relation of ownership to such an object, which explains the first great process in human salvation, is equally explanatory of the actual deliverance of the individual from sin and its consequences. To the explication of that subject we should wish to append a notice of such objections to the present view of a great question as may be reasonably anticipated, together with some important inferences, including a practical application of the whole subject.

For the same reason-the extent of present discussion—it must mainly rest with the reader to collect the various topics of the foregoing argument. Our limits will only allow a suggestion of the following:

The final cause of man's being was his own final well-being. The ideal of such a being, with his known appointments, himself the sole exponent of every creative and rectoral movement on the sub-celestial theater, must have been a conception worthy its Author's complacential regard. And when that ideal was realized it could not have been less, but must have been even more so, as real is superior to ideal existence, and as the constitutional and moral properties claiming that regard were transplantations, by God's own hand, of corresponding excellences in his own nature.

It follows, then, that while his regard must have been lessened by the value of the lost moral properties, it must also have remained unabated by the amount of value in the remaining constitutional properties. And this unimpaired constitutional value, let it be carefully remembered, was indefinitely enhanced, in the divine estimation, as well on account of his natural interest in it as an object of property, as by reason of its connection, and the indispensableness of its connection, with the whole scheme of Divine self-manifestation; a scheme reaching back to the past, and forth to the future, eternity. By reason, therefore, of this connectional indispensableness, as well

as on account of divinely implanted excellence, involving the dearness of property interest in the object itself, its moral lapse could not we know it did not reduce it below the loving regard of its Creator.

Lapsed man, therefore, was worthy of being loved, not indeed for any moral quality, but for the above-stated constitutional and relational reasons, including susceptibility of being raised to even more than all his forfeited excellence and bliss. And, as worthy of being loved, he was worthy of being redeemed; and all for reasons flowing, as we have seen, from the Creator's own original munificence.

And here we must ask the reader to keep in mind, what has been shown before, that the consideration which induces love can no otherwise exist than in, or as pertaining to, the object itself; and that, consequently, God's love to fallen man-the love which moved him to will and effectuate the redeeming process-must have had respect, not to any foreign considerations, but to qualities and relations perceived in, and pertaining to, the being himself. And we have seen, as well what those qualities and relations were, as their natural adequacy to induce the known result.

Now, as man, with all his essential and relative properties and capabilities, was the original and absolute property of God, and as the paternal interest which such a being must naturally feel in such an object was his interest, and issued from the same original relation, it follows, in the meaning of our incipient announcement, that God's ownership of man was the inducing cause of man's redemption-and consequent salvation--by our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. "For God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." To him be glory in the highest, forever and ever.

ART. IV.-ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER.

The Life of Archibald Alexander, D.D., LL.D., First Professor in the Theological Seminary at Princeton, N. J. By JAMES W. ALEXANDER, D.D. 12mo., pp. 562. Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication.

EVERY good minister of the Gospel is the property of the whole Church of God. His piety, his learning and ability, not only secure for himself the respect and confidence of those around him, but commend the Gospel which he preaches, and all who espouse it, to the minds and hearts of the entire community. Each evangelical Church in the land, each Christian society in a city or a town, stands stronger in the popular estimation, secures a more respectful hearing, has more weight and influence upon the popular mind, because of the presence of the others; and not only every able minister, but every man and woman who lives a holy life is a voucher for all who profess "like precious faith." A review of the life of Archibald Alexander, of Princeton, has an appropriate place in a Methodist publication, because more than curiosity prompts us, as a depomination, to inquire into the success of other Churches and other ministers of the Gospel, and examine the instrumentalities wherewith that success has been achieved.

Archibald Alexander was born near Lexington, Rockbridge County, Va., April 17, 1772, and was the third of a family of nine children. His grandfather emigrated from Ireland in the year 1737, and on both his father's and his mother's side Dr. Alexander was a descendant of the Scotch-Irish, or of ancestors who long ago emigrated from Scotland to Ireland, bearing with them, and transmitting to their children, their characteristic industry, thrift, and Calvinistic faith. A century ago the great valley of Virginia was still comparatively a new country, and amid its wild scenes and adventures young Alexander spent his youth. He learned to hunt, and fish, and swim, and recognize at incredible distances the bells of his father's cattle when they were lost in the mountain forests. His early educational advantages were defective. It was the fashion of England in those days to export her criminals to her western

colonies, and on their arrival put them up at auction as servants for the term of years named in the sentence of the court which convicted them. Virginia received her full share of them, and, judging from the conduct of certain of her citizens in the present rebellion, their descendants not only exist, but are worthy of their lineage. Archibald's father, in a trading expedition to Baltimore, saw several of these convicts for sale, and having some spare funds on hand, bought the lot, and took them home to the valley. On his arrival he examined his "property," to see what his purchase was worth; and finding that one of them, a boy of nineteen years, possessed a smattering of books, concluded to make him the schoolmaster of the settlement. Under the auspices of this hopeful guide, young Alexander entered the flowery paths of knowledge. The Westminister Catechisms, the Shorter and the Larger, formed an important part of his early acquisitions. At the age of ten years he was told by his father that "learning was to be his estate." The Rev. William Graham, a graduate of Princeton College, had opened an academy, which he named Liberty Hall, and which, in after years, became Washington College. Archibald was placed under the tuition of Mr. Graham, and remained in his school nearly seven years, acquiring some Latin and great skill in cards.

In his seventeenth year he left school, and engaged as tutor in the family of General Posey, a resident of what was then called the Wilderness, a few miles west of Fredericsburgh. Thus far he was not religious, nor even awakened to any sense of danger. He received on one occasion deep impressions from the sermon of a "traveling preacher;" but he records that on hearing his parents speak slightingly of the sermon his convictions instantly vanished. At the age of seventeen his ideas of religion were exceedingly imperfect, and are thus described by himself: "My only notion of religion was that it consisted in becoming better. I had never heard of any conversion among the Presbyterians."-P. 32. The process by which he was aroused to a sense of his lost condition, and led into the path of peace, is so curiously illustrative of the times, as well as the individual, that we deem it not inappropriate to trace it briefly in these pages, especially in view of the fact that we design to devote most of the space allotted us to the earlier portion of the life of Dr. Alexander.