The Royal Exchange and the Palace of Industry

PART I.
EXPOSITORY.

On the night of the 10th of January, in the year 1838, the inhabitants of London—those especially residing in the heart of the city—were alarmed by a cry expressive or prophetic of calamity or peril.—The Royal Exchange was in flames! Feelings and sentiments were excited by the occurrence different from those produced by an ordinary conflagration. The Royal Exchange was one of the great public buildings of the metropolis; it was the third too which, within a very short period, had met with a similar fate. It was not only the monument of individual munificence, the gift to the city which he had adorned and served, of an eminent merchant,—a man of talents, goodness, learning, and largeness of heart; it was the central point in the British empire for the meeting of the men of all nations; the palace of trade; the place of commercial congress; the hall in which assembled from day to day the “merchant princes” of England, and the representatives of the traffic and the wealth of the world. The flames spread; the devouring element secured to itself the entire edifice; it fed upon and consumed floor and roof, picture and statue, destroying or defacing everything it touched, till the whole building was reduced to ashes, and nothing remained of it but smouldering ruins.

In a little time a new edifice was projected, larger and more magnificent than the former, and thus better fitted to meet the wants of the age, and to indicate the progress and advancement of society. The first stone was laid by the youthful husband of our young queen,—one might almost say the young bridegroom of a royal bride,—and the building rose with comparative rapidity, unfolding and embodying its great idea. As it approached completion, and its front was to be adorned by some significant figures or allegorical device, questions arose as to whether an inscription should be placed there with them, and as to what that inscription should be. The illustrious individual who had laid the first stone of the structure suggested for that inscription a simple text from the English Bible, “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof.” The suggestion was adopted; it was carried into effect; and hence there may be read, on the front of our Royal Exchange, and read in our land’s language,—but addressed to all men; for they are addressed not only to the British merchant, but to the representatives of every nation under heaven,—the few plain words which have just been repeated,—

Words, however, these, which, while simple in appearance, are pregnant and suggestive in the highest degree; for they are full to overflowing, of great practical divine thoughts.

The suggestion of this inscription for the Royal Exchange was the suggestion not only of sound judgment and good sense, but of piety, humility, and religious faith. It attributes nothing to any individual; it proclaims no national or municipal greatness; it breathes no flattery to monarch, merchant, class, or kingdom:—it is simply a devout recognition of Almighty God, “from whom, and by whom, and for whom are all things:”—who created the world, and adorned and beautified it; who covered it with verdure, made it fruitful, fills it with its various products, and sustains it for the service of man. It is a great thing to have this public recognition of the Most High made, as it were, every hour of every day, from the very centre of all mundane and secular activities;—it is a stirring recollection, that that very building, thought by many to be the temple of Mammon, should stand forth as a preacher and teacher on behalf of God; and, still more so, that its English voice should be distinctly heard above the din and discord of its many languages, perpetually proclaiming to its busy multitudes, and the busy multitudes of the whole city, what, if practically pondered, would cool avarice, prevent fraud, moderate ambition, inspire truth, dictate justice, make every man feel as a brother to his fellow, and all nations, ranks, and conditions of men, as the members of one vast and undivided confraternity.

It is interesting to think that the same illustrious Prince who suggested the inscription for the Royal Exchange, originated the idea of the Exhibition of the industry of all nations. It is to the honour of England, that the first time that the whole world, so to speak, comes together for a peaceful purpose, the meeting takes place in the British metropolis; and it is to the honour of the husband of England’s Queen, not only that he should have been the father of this thought, but that by a previous one he should have attempted, as it were, to sanctify industry, and trade, and commerce, and manufactures, by an open recognition of the providence of God as the source of them all. It is worth living for, to be, first, the occasion of a great central commercial edifice, in one of the greatest cities of the world, bearing on its front the record of the central truth of religion; and then, secondly, to be the cause of the congregating together, in that city, of men of all lands and of all languages, to look, among other things, upon that edifice, and to observe the truth which the people it represents have there publicly enthroned!

The writer of the following pages proposes, then, to unite in his reflections the two things which, through the agency of the same mind, are thus already united in fact—the Inscription on the Royal Exchange, and the Exhibition of the Industry of all Nations. He intends, in the first part, to point out and illustrate the great primary religious truths which are involved in the announcement of the inscription itself. As it, however, is the first verse of a psalm, he purposes, in the second part, to look at it in connexion with the whole of the psalm, and at the psalm in connexion with the whole of Revelation, and thus to bring out and associate with the inscription additional ideas of both truth and duty. Then, supposing the whole series of these truths and duties to be earnestly adopted and practically exemplified by all nations—by England herself, and by those to whom they will be virtually presented on their meeting together in the British metropolis—it is proposed, in the last part, to describe what, on such a supposition, would be the coming future of Europe and of the world.

The first idea suggested by the words of the inscription is the existence of God: “The earth is the Lord’s.” It is here assumed that there is a God; and it is further assumed that God is a person. He is the possessor and proprietor of the world: he has an existence distinct from it: he is capable of looking upon it, and of regarding it as his own: “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein.” Not only is the material structure his, but the living inhabitants; and not only those of inferior rank, but the Lord and Master of them all. The same being that claims “the fowls of the mountains, the wild beasts of the field and the forest, and the cattle upon a thousand hills,” claims also to be the proprietor of man, the source and sovereign of the intelligent universe;—“all souls are mine.” God is not nature, nor nature God. God and the universe are not one and the same thing. He is not a force, a power, a law; he is not attraction, electricity, or any of the great active material agents, or all of them put together: he is not necessity, chance, fate: he is not a thing, nor the sum of things, but a person: he is a mind, with faculties, affections, character, and is as distinct from the “earth” and the “world” as a man is distinct from a house or a clock, or anything whatever that he can call his.

The personality of God—his existence as an intelligent agent distinct from the universe,—is destructive of all theories of atheism and pantheism; of the philosophy which teaches that there is no God at all, and of that which teaches that all things are God. The two systems, indeed, are essentially one; they are alike opposed to the existence of religion, and render faith and piety impossible. A principle is proclaimed in the words before us,—words ceaselessly uttered, and uttered to all men, from the commercial centre of this great city,—which repels and repudiates a godless philosophy, in whatever form it may be held or taught—by whatever name it may be indicated or concealed.

The truth thus referred to, the foundation truth of all religion, is taught and illustrated in the Holy Scriptures in the most remarkable manner. The Bible, indeed, seldom or never attempts to prove that there is a God; it rather assumes his existence, takes it for granted, proceeds upon it as a necessary intuitional truth, and regards any one who would pretend to deny it, either as “a fool” who is prompted to the denial by his corrupt “heart;” or as a philosopher who has become “vain in his reasonings,” and whose “understanding is darkened.” While, however, the Bible starts with the acknowledgment of God, and proceeds throughout on the recognition of his existence, it occasionally illustrates his personality, supremacy, distinctness from the universe and correlative truths, in a way which is at once adapted to confirm these views where they are admitted,—to demonstrate them to those that doubt,—and to cover with contempt idolaters or sophists by whom they may be denied.

Two or three scriptural passages may be quoted here, in support or illustration of this statement. Let it be remembered then, that the Scriptures always ascribe to God personal attributes. He is “a God of knowledge.” His “understanding is infinite.” He acts “according to the council of his will.” He is “holy,” “just,” “good,” “pure;” He loves and hates, observes and remembers, approves and condemns, punishes and rewards. His personal omniscience, and consequent independence of all other beings, is powerfully asserted by Isaiah:—“Who hath directed the Spirit of the Lord, or being his counsellor hath taught him? With whom took he counsel, and who instructed him, and taught him in the path of judgment, and taught him knowledge, and showed to him the way of understanding?” But the personality of God, and his distinct existence from the universe, are sometimes united together in a very striking way. He is referred to as the Creator—the source whence all things have proceeded; and then, on the principle that what there is in the effect there must first have been in the cause, and must continue to be in an existing cause, his personal properties are argued from the fact that such properties actually exist,—exist, that is, in men,—beings whom he has made: “He that planted the ear, shall not he hear? he that formed the eye, shall not he see? … he that teacheth man knowledge, shall not he know?” The same argument, in another form, is used by the apostle Paul, when reasoning with the philosophers of Athens. Having referred to God as the Creator of the world; as giving “to all life, and breath, and all things;” and as “having made all nations of men that dwell on the face of the earth;”—having illustrated his position by the saying of one of their own poets,—“we are also his offspring,”—he proceeds to argue thus:—“forasmuch then, as we are the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the Godhead is like unto gold, or silver, or stone, graven by art and man’s device:” in other words, “seeing that we have thought, intelligence, and will,—that we have affections, consciousness, personality,—and seeing that we are the creatures of God, and must have derived from him whatsoever we possess, it is absurd to think of him as impersonal, material, unintelligent, since he must certainly have in himself what he has been able to confer.” There is great force in this form of putting the truth as it is put both by the prophet and the apostle. To ordinary common sense, it would seem to be demonstrative. It appears so natural to infer that the great parent of persons must be a person;—that the source of thought must be able to think;—that the fountain whence flows to the intelligent universe, faculty and affection, reason and will, must possess these in infinite plenitude in itself;—it would appear so natural to reason thus, and so obvious, as almost to render reference to it superfluous, were it not that it is now fashionable to think of the universe as a mere machine, and God as the central and pervading force, and that this machine, in the course of its ceaseless and everlasting action, and in the process of its varied movements from eternity, has happened, or contrived, to grind out thought along with other things, and to fill worlds with persons (or what seem to be such) as well as with form and colour, and the different objects of material existence! In reference to such a theory, we may appropriately adopt the words of the psalmist, which stand in immediate connexion with those already quoted. “Understand, ye brutish among the people: and ye fools, when will ye be wise?—The Lord knoweth the thoughts of man, that they are vanity.”

But the words of the Inscription, read in connexion with the second verse of the psalm from which it is taken, further illustrate the ideas adverted to—God’s existence, personality, and distinction from the universe—by placing the fact of his ownership of the earth, on the previous fact of his having created it. “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein. For he hath founded it upon the seas, and established it upon the floods.”

God is thus distinctly recognised as the Creator of all things, and as hence becoming, or being, their proprietor, by necessary consequence. That the universe is a creation, in the most strict and literal sense of the word, is the teaching of the Bible;—a truth which, while leading to that of his universal proprietorship of the earth and the world, as necessarily implies and strikingly illustrates his own distinct independence and personality: “Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear.” The meaning of this statement is, that visible objects—that is, the whole visible universe—did not originally spring out of visible materials. However long might be the periods, during which the substance of the earth was undergoing preparatory processes, previous to the appearance of its destined inhabitant, there was a time when that substance was not. There was a period when the Eternal lived alone,—when space was literally infinite, except as filled and pervaded by him,—when nothing material anywhere existed, by which any portion of space could be inclosed or limited. In that mysterious solitude, God was as much a personality,—as much a mind with thought and will,—as he is now. He could not then be confounded with his works, for his works were not; and he ought not now to be confounded with them because they are. It is possible to conceive of all the suns and systems that exist, as being swept away into utter nothingness, and yet to understand that God might continue in all the fulness of his being and perfections. “In the beginning,”—at some period in the immeasurable depths of the abyss of that eternity which is the dwelling-place of Deity, God exerted the act of creation, and gave birth to what we call matter, which, in the revolutions of ages, he framed and fashioned into separate worlds. The Lord was, “before his works of old.” He was “from everlasting, or ever the earth was.” “When there were no depths,” he existed;—“before the mountains and hills,—while as yet he hath not made the earth, nor the fields, nor (even) the dust (or matter) of the world.” This is the sublime and awful truth which the Scriptures teach as to the primary relation of God to the universe, and on the ground of which they ascribe to him successive acts of formative power,—often in language highly figurative, but always meant to convey the idea of the exercise of the wisdom, goodness, foresight, and similar attributes of a personal agent in the Maker of the world.

“Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, thou art God.” “He prepared the heavens, he set a compass upon the face of the depth. He established the clouds above, he strengthened the foundations of the deep. He gave to the sea his decree, that the waters should not pass his commandment.” “He stretcheth out the north over the empty place, and hangeth the earth upon nothing.” He is “the great God that formed all things.” “O Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all.” “The Lord by wisdom hath founded the earth, by understanding hath he established the heavens. By his knowledge the depths are broken up, and the clouds drop down dew.” “Of old thou hast laid the foundation of the earth; and the heavens are the work of thy hands” “The sea is his,—he made it; and his hands formed the dry land.” “Mine hand hath laid the foundation of the earth, and my right hand hath spanned the heavens.” “Lift up your eyes on high, and behold who hath created these things, that bringeth out their host by number: he calleth them all by names by the greatness of his might, for that he is strong in power; not one faileth.” “Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out heaven with the span, and comprehended the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance?” “I have made the earth—the man and the beast that are upon the ground, by my great power and by my out-stretched arm.” “Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? Declare, if thou hast understanding. Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who laid the corner-stone thereof? Hast thou commanded the morning since thy days; and caused the day-spring to know his place? Hast thou entered into the springs of the sea? Hast thou perceived the breadth of the earth? Where is the way where light dwelleth? And as for darkness, where is the place thereof? Canst thou bind the sweet influence of Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion? Canst thou bring forth Mazzaroth in his season, or guide Arcturus with his sons? Who hath put wisdom into the inward parts? or who hath given understanding to the heart?” “There is a spirit in man: and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth them understanding.” God made “man in his own image.” He is “the Father of spirits.” “The heavens declare his glory, and the firmament showeth his handiwork.” “That which may be known of God is manifest” to men, “for God hath showed it unto them. For the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead;” so that men are “without excuse,” if, knowing God, or not liking “to retain God in their knowledge,” they “worship him not as God,” but, “professing themselves to be wise, become fools,” changing “the truth of God into a lie.”

Such are some of the statements of Scripture respecting the creation of the world and man. To admit these, it is not necessary to deny the revelations of science as to the physical antiquity of the globe, and the successive phenomena that distinguished the history of the pre-adamite earth. There might have been then a wonderful series of gradual developments, and various material and animal formations;—the point to be kept in view is, that all these were intelligently presided over by the Author of nature; and that they all followed in obedience to laws, which he not only ordained, but administered. The “Crystal Palace” is the embodiment of an idea conceived and perfected in a personal intelligence. It has been constructed and reared by rule and compass, measure and weight, and according to the suggestions of wisdom and skill. All the variety of its extraordinary contents bear the impress of thought and purpose, design and contrivance, faculty and power; but no one confounds the work with the workmen, or imagines that the skill impressed on the productions is something inherent in the productions themselves, or that they have sprung, by necessity, from the impulse or operation of unintelligent force! Any one who saw the apparently confused and chaotic jumble of coarse packages and unarranged materials, as they lay about the building, previous to being put into harmonious order, could never have imagined that they had in themselves any tendency to take the places and assume the appearances to which they were destined, independently of the mind, the thought, plan, reason, and ability of the person or persons by whom all was to be effected. Even if it had been possible to conceive such a thing,—to conceive, namely, that they should, without the immediate agency of hands, have gradually arranged themselves into beautiful groups, and that thus confusion was to be succeeded by order,—this would only have been regarded as the result of processes to which they had been subjected by human sagacity, and as the proof of profounder and more wonderful contrivance on the part of the presiding genius of the scene. Instead of tempting a thoughtful observer to confound and identify the thing done with the actual doer,—or to lose sight of him, and to attribute all to necessity or chance, or to some mysterious appetencies in the things themselves,—it would only have carried the idea of personality further back, and have augmented his admiration of the attributes that distinguished it. In the same way, adhering to the truth that the heavens and the earth are an actual creation, then, whatever may have been the processes through which they gradually passed till the whole fabric was developed and perfected, all was the work of a personal agent distinct from the actual universe itself, and all that was done was accomplished through the action of those laws which he framed,—to which he subjected them,—which he administered,—which the things did not originate,—which they could not understand, and from which they could not escape. He—the living, spiritual, personal God—was the Mover and Maker, the Designer and Doer from first to last. In the same way, just as nothing can be more completely a man’s own than that which is the product of his own skill, when acting independently, and operating on his justly obtained material, so nothing can be such a proof of the proprietorship of God in the universe and its inhabitants, as that by him they were all alike “created and made.” “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein. For he hath founded it upon the seas, and hath established it upon the floods.”

The idea suggested by the words of the inscription, of the “FULNESS” of the earth belonging to God, deserves a distinct and specific consideration.

By the “fulness” of the earth, we understand all that it contains of raw material capable of being subjected to human skill, and all that it produces, of whatever sort, animal or vegetable, for the service of men,—for the sustenance of sentient nature,—for happiness, or glory and beauty. By all this being God’s, by this “fulness of the earth” belonging to him, we understand that it is to be attributed to him as its Author; that he originally deposited, in the depths of the mountains and the womb of the world, their mineral wealth; that he covered the earth with verdure and fruitfulness, and filled the air, the sea, and the field with their numerous inhabitants; that he established the laws by which there should be a constant succession in all the varieties of animal and vegetable nature; and that he so superintends the whole arrangement, and personally administers these laws, that all that they produce may be properly regarded as the immediate product of his power and skill. “Fulness,” so produced, is his, “from whom and by whom” it comes, with scarcely less emphasis than if it was to be spoken into being in the “twinkling of an eye,”—at the utterance of a single word, or by a sudden act of omnipotent volition.

The inhabitants, then, of this great city are reminded every day, as they look up at the front of their Royal Exchange, not only of the existence and personality of God, and of his being the proprietor of all things, but of his being this, by his continued providence and government of the world, as well as by his having created it at first. It was God that for ages wrought in secret, constructing the rocks and consolidating the mountains, depositing the useful and precious metals, spreading the coal-field, and preparing materials of every sort for future society. It was he who commanded “the dry land to appear,” and the waters to be gathered into seas: who covered the earth “with the grass of the field, and with the herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree yielding fruit;” who fixed the sun in the heavens, and gave him to the world for cheerful light and genial warmth; who “spread abroad the clouds,” and “caused rain,” and established the laws of vegetable production: it was God who caused the waters to be filled “with the moving creature that hath life;” that caused “the fowl to fly above the earth in the open firmament of heaven;” and that made “the beast of the earth after his kind, and cattle, and everything that creepeth upon the earth;”—it was God that gave to them the law “to increase and multiply, and to fill the earth;” and then gave the earth to the children of men, and commanded them, too, not only “to increase and multiply and to replenish the earth,” but “to have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.” It was God who “made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth,” and who, as “the Most High, who ruleth over the children of men, and doeth as he will with the inhabitants of the earth,” “separated the sons of Adam, and divided to the nations their inheritance,” and “determined their appointed times, and the bounds of their habitation.” It was God who appropriated to different climes their diversified productions;—who hid beneath the surface of various peoples mineral varieties;—who conferred on the nations different talents and different tastes;—who made exchange of productions a mutual want, necessity, or convenience;—and who thus established the law of commercial intercourse. It was God that gave to man improvable reason, so that he was not bound down to unintelligent instinct in constructing his habitation or providing for his necessities, but was empowered and intrusted with the inventive head and the skilful hand; could become the accomplished and cunning artificer, so that out of the raw material of the world he could call forth new appearances and forms of things, and thus cover the earth with another creation! It was God who appointed wood to swim, and water to flow, and fixed the poles, and fashioned the loadstone, and gave the compass, and bound the breast of the first mariners as with triple brass, that all the wonders of navigation might ensue, and enterprise and discovery, and the peaceful and profitable intercourse of nations. And it is God that still presides over and governs all things; that gives spring and summer, and winter and harvest; it is he who distils the influences of the heavens, and perpetuates the fertility of the earth; it is he who gives annual abundance, and causes all nations, the world over, to rejoice in what comes to them as if it were a new and instant creation,—a gift and gratuity dropped from the sky! It is God “that gives to man power to get wealth,” and that confers on the nations their respective tastes and distinctive genius,—their capacity for labour, or their love of the beautiful, or their skilful handicraft, or their omnipotent enterprise, or their gigantic achievements! It is God that thus makes them useful to each other;—that binds them together from the very circumstance of their separate gifts and their mutual necessities;—and that imparts to them an interest in each other’s industry, from the different forms and uses that it takes;—and it is he, we trust, who is bringing them together to the Great Exhibition, so that, while they wonder at the result, the vastness and the variety of their own doings, they may acknowledge Him, to whom they are indebted for material and skill, time and capacity, life and all things;—whose they themselves are;—from whom cometh every good and every perfect gift; and, as whose property, all that they possess should be held and used. “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein.”

The propriety of thus attributing everything to God, and of recognising his providence in the laws of the world, the productions of the seasons, the results of industry, the instruments of commerce, and even in the adornments of civilization, and the allowable luxuries of elegance and refinement, and also in the gifts of invention, subtlety, and mechanical skill,—all this is so frequently taught or referred to in Scripture, that a few appropriate illustrative passages may with great propriety be inserted here.

The attentive reader will notice that the several quotations that follow illustrate the most of the ideas that have been advanced, and that they do this very much in the order in which they have been given. The first passage, from the Book of Job, we give in the language of Mr. Goode’s translation, as it expresses the sense of the original, with some approach to scientific exactness.

“Surely there is a vein for the silver, and a bed for the gold which men refine. Iron is dug up from the earth, and the rock poureth forth copper. Man delveth into the region of darkness, and examineth to the utmost limit the stones of darkness and death-shade: he breaketh up the veins from the matrice, which, though nothing thought of under the foot, are drawn forth, are brandished among mankind. The earth of itself poureth forth bread, but below it windeth a fiery region. Sapphires are its stones, and gold is its ground.”

The following sentences, while forming part of an argument respecting moral and spiritual wisdom,—the fear of God and departure from evil,—are remarkable as an enumeration of valuable substances, and are here quoted simply as such.

“But where shall wisdom be found, and where is the place of understanding? It cannot be “gotten for gold,” nor “silver;” it cannot be valued with “the gold of Ophir,” “the precious onyx,” or “the sapphire;” “gold” and “crystal” cannot equal it; nor “coral,” nor “pearls;” nor “the topaz of Ethiopia;” for “the price of wisdom is above rubies.”

When we rise from the cavern and the mine, from noticing the precious metals and precious stones, and look abroad on the surface of the earth, or upwards to the sky, or over the great and wide sea, the Scripture meets us with innumerable utterances of what, if we are wise, we shall see there of the ever present, active, and beneficent God. “He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man: that he may bring forth food out of the earth; and wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face to shine, and bread that strengtheneth man’s heart.” “He sendeth the springs into the valleys, which run among the hills. They give drink to every beast of the field: the wild asses quench their thirst. By them shall the fowls of the heaven have their habitation, that sing among the branches. He watereth the hills from his chambers: the earth is filled with the fruit of his works.” “The trees of the Lord are full of sap; the cedars of Lebanon which he hath planted.” “Thou makest darkness and it is night, wherein all the beasts of the forest do creep forth. The young lions roar after their prey, and seek their meat from God.” “The earth is full of thy riches: so is this great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts. These wait all upon thee, that thou mayest give them their meat in due season. That thou givest them they gather: thou openest thine hand, they are filled with good. Thou hidest thy face, they are troubled: thou takest away their breath, they die, and return to their dust. Thou sendest forth thy spirit, they are created: and thou renewest the face of the earth. The glory of the Lord shall endure for ever; the Lord shall rejoice in his works.” He is “the confidence of all the ends of the earth, and of them that are afar off upon the sea.” He “by his strength setteth fast the mountains, being girded with power:” He “stilleth the noise of the waves, and the tumult of the people.” “Thou makest the outgoings of the morning and of the evening to rejoice. Thou visitest the earth and waterest it: thou greatly enrichest it with the river of God, which is full of water: thou preparest them corn, when thou hast so provided for it. Thou waterest the ridges thereof abundantly: thou settlest the furrows thereof: thou makest it soft with showers: thou blessest the springing thereof. Thou crownest the year with thy goodness; and thy paths drop fatness. They drop upon the pastures of the wilderness: and the little hills rejoice on every side. The pastures are clothed with flocks; the valleys also are covered over with corn; they shout for joy, they also sing.”

In the following passages, the various powers and capacities of humanity, as displayed in agriculture and art, are represented as Divine gifts. The farmer and mechanic, the designer and manufacturer, the engraver and draftsman, the worker in metals, in wood, stone, and in every sort of raw material, all accomplish their several operations in virtue of ability which God confers. “Give ye ear, and hear my voice; hearken, and hear my speech. Doth the ploughman plough all day to sow? Doth he open and break the clods of his ground? When he hath made plain the face thereof, doth he not cast abroad the fitches, and scatter the cummin, and cast in the principal wheat and the appointed barley and the rye in their place? For GOD doth instruct him to discretion, and doth teach him. This also cometh forth from the Lord of hosts, which is wonderful in council, and excellent in working.” “And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, See, I have called by name Bezaleel, the son of Uri;—and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, in wisdom, and in understanding, and in knowledge, and in all manner of workmanship, to devise cunning works, to work in gold, and in silver, and in brass, and in cutting of stones, and to set them, and in carving of timber, to work in all manner of workmanship. And I, behold, I have given with him Aholiab, the son of Ahisamach;—and, in the hearts of all that are wise-hearted I have put wisdom, that they may make all that I have commanded thee.” And Hiram, king of Tyre, sent also to Solomon “a cunning man, endued with prudence and understanding,—skilful to work in gold, and silver, in brass, in iron, in stone, in timber, in purple, in blue, and in fine linen, and in crimson; also to grave any manner of engraving, and to find out every device that might be put to him.”

The next quotations illustrate commercial intercourse, the dependence of nation on nation, trade by sea, and the importation of natural curiosities, as well as of valuable products and useful material, with other kindred matters. “The Lord gave Solomon wisdom,—and there was peace between Hiram and Solomon; and they two made a league together:” and Solomon wrote to Hiram, “Thou knowest that there is not among us any that can skill to hew timber like the Sidonians. Now, therefore, let thy servants hew me cedar-trees out of Lebanon, and unto thee will I give hire for thy servants, according to all that thou shalt appoint.” And Hiram sent to Solomon, saying, “I have considered the things which thou sentest to me for: and I will do all thy desire, concerning timber of cedar, and concerning timber of fir. My servants shall bring them down from Lebanon to the sea; and I will convey them by sea in floats, to the place that thou shalt appoint me, and will cause them to be discharged there, and thou shalt receive them: and thou shalt accomplish my desire in giving food for my household. So Hiram gave Solomon cedar-trees and fir-trees; and Solomon gave Hiram twenty thousand measures of wheat for food to his household, and twenty measures of pure oil.”

And Solomon “went to Ezion-geber, and to Eloth, at the sea-side, in the land of Edom. And Hiram sent him by the hands of his servants ships, and servants that had knowledge of the sea; and they went with the servants of Solomon to Ophir, and took thence four hundred and fifty talents of gold and brought it to king Solomon:” “and once every three years came the ships of Tarshish bringing gold, and silver, and ivory, and apes, and peacocks.” The 27th chapter of Ezekiel is one of the most extraordinary descriptions that is anywhere to be met with, of the exchange of commodities and the intercourse of nations by means of commerce. The different productions of various peoples and climes are enumerated; the “fulness” of all lands is represented as flowing into the markets of Tyre,—brought there by the ships and sailors of every maritime nation;—while Tyre itself is spoken of as the nurse of mariners and the mistress of the sea,—her beauty and abundance radiant and wonderful,—and her merchant princes as the lords of the world. All this may breed luxury, foster pride, promote corruption, and lead ultimately to national degradation and decay: but this is not the necessary effect of abundance, nor does it forbid us to refer riches, prosperity, commerce, manufactures, and everything else that adorns life, to the beneficence of God. “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof.” HE pours down, year by year, the riches of the skies,—calls up the treasures of the earth, spreads abroad the abundance of the seas,—adds to the value of many of his gifts what they derive from the labour, skill, and ingenuity of man,—and excites the nations to exchange and trade, that each country may share in the joy and the productions of all. In this way it comes to pass, that the whole race, in relation to the entire world, might be addressed in the language of Moses to the chosen people when he described the land promised to their fathers. “The Lord thy God bringeth thee into a good land; a land of brooks of water, of fountains and depths that spring out of valleys and hills: a land of wheat, and barley, and vines, and fig-trees, and pomegranates; a land of olive-oil and honey; a land wherein thou shalt eat bread without scarceness, thou shalt not lack anything in it; a land whose stones are iron, and out of whose hills thou mayest dig brass.” “Blessed of the Lord be his land, for the precious things of heaven, for the dew, and for the deep that coucheth beneath, and for the precious fruits brought forth by the sun, and for the precious things put forth by the moon, and for the chief things of the ancient mountains, and for the precious things of the lasting hills, and for the precious things of the earth AND FULNESS THEREOF, and for the good will of Him that dwelt in the bush.” “He made Jacob to ride on the high places of the earth, that he might eat the increase of the fields; and he made him to suck honey out of the rock, and oil out of the flinty rock; butter of kine and milk of sheep, with fat of lambs, and rams of the breed of Bashan, and goats, with the fat of kidneys of wheat; and he drank the pure blood of the grape.”

Unusual as some of these expressions are, especially those of a figurative character, they may be taken to indicate the intention of Providence to bless the obedient in “the life that now is,” as well as in relation to that “which is to come.” “God giveth us all things richly to enjoy;” if faith and piety, love and obedience, pervaded the race, everything that adorns and beautifies existence might be delighted in and used without injury. By free and universal commercial intercourse, the abundance and blessings of favoured regions may become the common property of all. There may thus be established throughout all nations, an equality of privilege, each sharing in the productions of the rest. With such views, we may appropriately conclude the present chapter by the following passages, weaving them into a song for the entire race:

PART II.
INFERENTIAL.

So far we have been employed in elucidating the principles which are involved in the terms of the inscription—which is enthroned in the front of the Royal Exchange,—The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof. These words, taken alone, distinctly recognise the existence of God, Creation, and Providence. They express, or imply, through their own inherent and independent force, the acknowledgment of these great primary truths. In the course of our remarks, we have glanced at one or two of the clauses of the psalm immediately succeeding the words of the inscription; rather, however, as illustrative of the extent of its significance, than as bringing to it any additional thought. We now propose to take the acknowledgment, “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof,” in connexion with the whole psalm of which it is the commencement, and the psalm itself in connexion with the whole revelation of which it is a part; and thus to bring out those additional forms of both truth and duty, which the scriptural recognition of God’s existence and government, and his general relations to the world and man, may come to suggest to a devout and reflective Christian observer.

Immediately after the assertion of God’s proprietorship of the world and man, the psalmist inquires, “Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in his holy place?” Language this, which refers to the locality and the uses of the temple, as the appointed place of Divine service. The existence of God and the obligation to worship him, would seem to be associated by an indissoluble necessity. The two ideas, indeed, mutually involve and illustrate each other. Admit the Divine existence; it is felt to extend downwards into the domain of human duty, and to suggest and enforce the obligation of worship: admit the reality of the religious instinct, and mark its universal and irrepressible force,—it swells upwards and amounts to a proof of the existence of God. The Divine Being has not only set his glory above the heavens, and spoken of himself by the myriads of voices that are perpetually issuing from the earth and the sky; he has not only stamped his image and superscription on the personal and intellectual attributes of the race; but he has provided an unimpeachable witness for himself, in the religious constitution of human nature. If there is one thing more than another which forms the peculiar distinction of man, and which places him in secluded and solitary grandeur apart from all the tribes of sentient existence by which he is surrounded, it is his possession and consciousness of a religious capacity. It may show itself in grotesque or disgusting forms,—it may blunder in its search, and babble in its utterances,—it may even become ferocious and malignant in its character; but there it is, in man, and in him alone, manifested everywhere, active always, forming a palpable and impassable distinction between his nature and that of all other creatures. The lower animals have senses and appetites similar to his; they can see and hear—they hunger and thirst; in many of them, indeed, some of the things that he and they possess in common, exist in greater acuteness and perfection in them than they do in him; while others make approaches to thought and reason, memory and will, affection and passion; but none of them share with him the capacity to adore,—none of them can pray,—none but he can entertain the conception of an invisible power,—engage in individual, or unite in acts of social, devotion. It is the prerogative of man to be able to say either, “Our Father,” or “I believe.” Even if it were admitted that specimens of humanity have been found, or could be produced, utterly destitute of the religious capacity, and with nothing about them, when they gaze on the universe, beyond the vacant stare of unintelligent natures; and even if it were further asserted and acknowledged, that it was utterly impossible to awaken in them a sense or perception of anything Divine,—yet it would be found that their children could be taught to comprehend and feel religious ideas,—that they had within them the spiritual capacity,—from which it would be evident that their fathers had originally possessed it too. The religious instinct, then, or susceptibility, or faculty, or whatever it may be called, is inherent in human nature—divides and distinguishes it from all else in the wide world, though it may express itself in the grossnesses of superstition and idolatry, or may have sunk into dormancy in extraordinary cases; but neither old, nor young, of all the tribes of the inferior races,—the most sagacious or the most domesticated,—can be found to display, or be taught to comprehend, religion at all!

It is a simple fact, then, beyond all question, that humanity possesses this distinguishing attribute. All things beneath and around him seem to be made for man; but he is the subject of a strong, active, predominating impulse, that appears like a consciousness, on his own part, that he is made for something else. This impulse finds utterance and embodiment in religious ideas and religious service. Now, it would be a strange anomaly in a world like this, in which every faculty of every creature finds its corresponding and appropriate object,—in which wing and hoof, scent and speed, eye and ear, hand and horn, powers and passions, appetites and attributes of all sorts, are fitted exactly to something that seems to be made for them, or for which they are made,—it would be a strange thing, that the only exception to this law, should be in the Lord and Master of the world himself!—and that it should occur, too, just in that one faculty that at once distinguishes and dignifies him more than any other! The existence and actings of the religious instinct in man thus constitute a proof of the existence of God, just as the admitted existence of God involves the obligation to religion in man. The tendency in humanity “to feel after God if haply it may find him,”—and to have something it may call God,—whether it succeed in finding him or not,—is demonstrative of a Divine objective reality answerable to itself, in the same way as the half-formed wings of a bird in the shell are proof of the existence of an external atmosphere, and of the ultimate destiny of the bird itself.

It is worth observing, too, that this duty of worship, which results from the truth professed in the acknowledgment that “the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof,” like the other things already mentioned, involves or illustrates the Divine personality. Worship, at the very least, is adoration and gratitude,—the utterance, generally in words, of thought and affection towards the Supreme Nature, as the subject of high attributes and the source of universal good;—exercises these, that can have no meaning, if that nature has no consciousness of its own perfections, and no knowledge of the language addressed to it. For man “to ascend into the hill of the Lord, and to stand and worship in his holy place,” He, to whom he approaches, must be a personal intelligence. Worship is the communion of mind with mind,—not only the sympathy of worshipper with worshipper, but the communion of each and of all with the worshipped. There can be no communion or sympathy with a force;—no intelligent adoration of a law; no affections can be warmed and excited, and drawn forth in psalm and song, towards a mere senseless physical power,—an unintelligent, mechanical necessity! Without a personal God, everything like worship is a mockery and a lie; the whole service is nothing but a masquerade. If worship could be conceived to be honestly attempted in connexion with the denial of God’s personal existence, it would be an attempt on the part of the worshippers to produce subjective states of mind by the conscious temporary assumption of a falsehood, and the employment upon themselves of a system of direct deception and imposture. The thing is impossible,—or impossible to be continued. There must either be the admission of a personal God as the object of worship, or worship itself will soon cease. Our belief and persuasion as a people are recorded in the front of our Royal Exchange. We may adapt to the fact the beautiful words of the Book of Proverbs: “Wisdom crieth without; she uttereth her voice in the streets. She crieth in the chief place of concourse; in the CITY she uttereth her words, saying, ‘The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof.’” And this publicly recorded persuasion,—this proclamation of our faith in the ears of all men, and our meaning it for the proclamation of the common and universal faith of humanity,—this involves in it the corresponding duty,—the duty of worshipping Him who is acknowledged as God,—the God of the whole earth,—and the duty of “all that dwell therein.” “O thou that hearest prayer, unto thee shall all flesh come.” “The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice; let the multitude of isles be glad thereof.” “Sing unto the Lord a new song, sing unto the Lord, all the earth.” “Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands. Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing. Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name.” “Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men.” “Praise the Lord, all ye nations; praise him, all ye people. For his merciful kindness is great toward us: and the truth of the Lord endureth for ever. Praise ye the Lord.”

What stands next to the idea of worship, is a description of the moral character of the worshippers. “Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in his holy place?” “He that hath clean hands and a pure heart: who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully.” This description is very brief, but it is very comprehensive. Each clause may be considered as representing a distinct and large department of duty; and the whole, taken together, as demanding or enforcing universal virtue. “Clean hands” stand as a figure for all outward and visible excellence. Every thing that the man does, is done in consistency with the rule of rectitude. He is a just, equitable, fair-dealing man. Confidence may be placed in his honour and uprightness, his incorruptible integrity, his contempt of meanness, and intolerance of wrong. Everything that belongs to a sound, solid, practical worth,—a pure, and even a fastidious, virtue,—a virtue beyond doubt or suspicion,—may be supposed to attach to the man who is said, by emphasis, to have “clean hands.” “Not to swear deceitfully,”—whatever may be its precise shade of meaning in the psalm,—may fairly be interpreted, in a discussion like this, as standing for honest and sincere speech, and as the type of the virtuous use of the tongue. It excludes from the idea of the character, deceit and falsehood, concealment and equivocation, with everything approaching to the designed conveyance of a wrong impression by word or look. In buying and selling, in barter or bargain, in converse or correspondence,—in respect to whatever business he transacts, and in relation to every medium for thought—there is supposed to be, in the man before us, scrupulous propriety of language,—the utmost transparency of meaning and purpose. He is simple, straightforward, without the shadow of deceit or guile. Then, “a pure heart,” in addition to habitual “cleanness of hands,” and the maintenance of entire integrity of tongue, is intended to express, the co-existence of an upright inward life, with the outward appearances of practical goodness. It would not only imply, however, the harmony of a man’s thoughts with his words,—and the correctness of the motives of his visible acts,—it would include in it, in its scriptural import, the government of the passions,—the control of the imagination,—sincerity and depth of religious feeling;—every thing not only chaste but devout, the whole soul liberated from gross and corrupting affections,—free from the drag and degradation of the flesh,—and fairly detached from the adhesions of earth, in all senses in which they would imply bondage to the sensual or the secular. “Not to lift up the soul unto vanity,” is intended to express the freedom of the man from idol-worship. The “vanities” of the heathen were the idols or deities whom the heathen adored; to whom they “lifted up their souls,”—or, in other words, to whom they rendered religious reverence, and before whom they appeared in worship. “Cleanness of hands,” then, “sincerity of speech,” “purity of heart,” with all that they include, in their seminal comprehensiveness, of outward and inward practical virtue, are thus connected with regard to the true God. The man has not only both morality and religion, but his religion is of the right kind. It is as proper as to its object, as it is sincere in itself. The man neither worships idols as Gods,—nor idols with God,—nor God through idols. “He has not lifted up his soul unto vanity.” He has not been seduced by the sun in his splendour, nor by the moon in her brightness; he has not “kissed his hand,” nor “offered sacrifices,” to “the queen of heaven:” he has not “bowed his knee to the image of Baal,” nor “fallen down to the stock of a tree.” The language descriptive of his feeling and practice would be that of David in relation to himself,—“Unto THEE, O Lord, do I lift up my soul.”

It is easy to see, how this demand of character in his worshippers adds to the proof of the personality of God. Worship of any kind, to have any meaning, implies personality;—but the demand for worshippers of a certain sort, implies, along with this, the possession, by Him whom they are to approach and please, of personal properties the same in kind with those of the worshippers. Where there is virtue, there must be thought;—where there are moral attributes, there must be personal intelligence; and where there is the necessity for these, as a pre-requisite for worship,—the Being worshipped must be supposed to be distinguished by moral attributes as well as by intelligence, as thus, only, could he properly appreciate, or consistently demand, them. A God may be imagined to be better than his worshippers,—he cannot rationally be supposed to be worse. To have a perception of goodness, and a sympathy with the good, and to permit none but the latter to stand before him, or to come into his presence, God must not only be a person, but one whose own character, must itself be pre-eminently distinguished by goodness. It may be worth observing, that moral ideas associated with worship, operate in more ways than one. They take a direction both upwards and downwards, each action illustrating the other. The character regarded with complacency in the worshippers, indicates that of the God they worship;—the character associated with the God they worship, moulds and fashions that of the worshippers. The deities of a people will naturally influence their moral notions and their moral behaviour. The object of worship becomes the standard of virtue;—men will imitate what they are taught to adore. If there be no God, there need be no worship;—if worship is rendered to unintelligent force, it can be of no consequence, so far as it is concerned, what the moral character of the worshippers is;—if the God be conceived of as sensual or malignant, lascivious or bloody, his image may be expected to be mirrored in his worshippers;—but if in all that approach him, he peremptorily demands “clean hands” and “a pure heart,”—with all that these include of universal virtue,—he must of necessity be considered to be holy Himself, while the habitual worship of such a being must be regarded as conducive to holiness in his servants. These latter ideas are precisely those which the Biblical idea of Deity illustrates. He is always described, in the loftiest terms, as invested with every attribute of excellence; as infinitely removed from evil; as looking on the good with delight; as permitting such only to approach him; as bidding the bad far from his presence; as detecting and denouncing hypocrisy and formality; and as exposing the uselessness of ritual acts and external observances taken by themselves, and insisting on an inward and earnest sympathy with his own love of the holy and the pure.

In consistency with the course which more than once we have already followed, we shall here introduce a series of passages from the Holy Scriptures illustrative of the statements which have just been made.

“The holy one of Israel.” “He is the Rock, his work is perfect;—a God of truth, and without iniquity; just and right is he.” “The Lord is in his holy temple;”—“worship him in the beauty of holiness.” “For the righteous Lord loveth righteousness; his countenance doth behold the upright.” “Unto the wicked God saith, What hast thou to do to declare my statutes, or that thou shouldest take my covenant in thy mouth?—Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such an one as thyself: but I will reprove thee and set them (thy doings) in order before thine eyes.” “Thou art not a God that hast pleasure in wickedness; neither shall evil dwell with thee.” “Confounded be all they that serve graven images, that boast themselves of idols. For thou Lord art high above all the earth; thou art exalted far above all gods. Ye that love the Lord, hate evil. Rejoice in the Lord ye righteous, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness.” “This people draweth nigh unto me with their mouth,—but their heart is far from me;” “Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, seek ye me, and ye shall live;—seek good and not evil, that ye may live.” “Hate the evil and love the good, and establish judgment in the gate that ye may live.” “To what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices unto me?” “When ye come to appear before me, who hath required this at your hand, to tread my courts? Bring no more vain oblations; incense is an abomination unto me; the new moons and sabbaths, the calling of assemblies, I cannot away with; it is iniquity, even the solemn meeting.” “When ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you: yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not hear: your hands are full of blood. Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes; cease to do evil; learn to do well.” “Judge me, O Lord, for I have walked in mine integrity. Examine me, prove me, try my reins and my heart. I have not sat with vain persons, neither will I go in with dissemblers. I have hated the congregation of evil doers; and will not sit with the wicked. I will wash mine hands in innocency, and so will I compass thine altar, O Lord.” “Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle? who shall dwell in thy holy hill? He that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his heart. He that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth evil to his neighbour, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour. In whose eyes a vile person is contemned, but he honoureth them that fear the Lord. He that sweareth to his own hurt and changeth not. He that putteth not out his money to usury, nor taketh reward against the innocent. He that doeth these things shall never be moved.”

These representations lead to the consideration of a third and last thing, which is essential to the complete illustration of the subject.

“The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof.” There is a God; God is to be worshipped; none but the good can acceptably worship him. So far all is plain. But men are not good. Throughout the race there is a consciousness to the contrary. In spite of the operation of many amiable instincts, and in spite of a large amount of passable virtue, it is quite understood that there is a terrible mass of iniquity in the world;—that there are the grossnesses of brutal lust, and the refinements of a fastidious licentiousness;—that there are falsehood, and fraud, and lying, and theft,—all the modes of open or secret dishonesty by which men attempt, or contrive, to overreach each other;—that there is the stupid animalism of rural ignorance, and the arts, and appliances, and accomplishments of crime, that abound in the recesses of great cities;—it is well known that corruption and depravity, in all these forms, have made terrible havoc in all lands; and, what is still more to the purpose, that among the classes the freest from crime, there is so much moral defect, and so many things having the character of sin,—so much, especially, of the want of religious faith, and of indifference to God, if not of conscious and positive enmity against him,—so much, in fact, of what constitutes the opposite of all that must be meant by the term “holiness,” and of what is demanded in those who can calmly “ascend into the hill of the Lord,” and acceptably “stand in his holy place;” that it would almost seem, on the admission of the statements and principles advanced, as if the worship of God must be given up as hopeless, in a world like this, from the utter impossibility of finding a sufficient number to make up for him an assembly of fitting worshippers.

There is a difference between worship considered as the habitual service of the good,—the appearing before God of those of “clean hands” and “pure hearts,” who are living in moral sympathy with him,—and the approach to his footstool, in shame and tears, of the guilty and the penitent. It is the worship and character of the former class that are contemplated in the description of the psalm before us; which description, with the demand involved in it, to be fully and theologically understood, must be looked at in connexion with the entire service of the Hebrew Institute, and the whole teaching of the sacred volume. If a holy God can only be approached by holy worshippers,—and that, too, in a world of which holiness is not the natural and characteristic attribute,—it is very obvious, that he must either remain without ever being worshipped at all, or some mode must exist by which the inhabitants of such a world may be made holy. Now this is just the thing which the Jewish dispensation illustrated by a figure, and which the Christian redemption is given to the world to realize in fact.

The Jewish dispensation approached men, in the first instance, as sinful and polluted, and it established a system adapted to their necessities. It set up its altar,—prescribed its sacrifices,—appointed its institutions,—consecrated its priesthood;—had its days of atonement, and its ark of propitiation,—its paschal lamb, and its burnt offering, and its scape-goat, and its sprinkling of blood;—with everything else that could either significantly presuppose sin, or point to the necessity and the mode of its removal. The Hebrew worshipper, in appearing before God, was first required to come into contact with the sacrifice and the priest;—he confessed offence, acknowledged his just exposure to punishment, brought his propitiation, and then, being purified from his ceremonial transgressions and the consequent disqualifications he had contracted, by this appointed method of approach to God, he was regarded as in a state of fitness for his worship, and could thus draw nigh as an accepted worshipper.

Now, there was a moral meaning in this ritual arrangement. It was intended to teach that, as ceremonial impurity needed to be removed in order to acceptable outward service,—so, spiritual guilt needed to be removed in order to acceptable spiritual worship. When the psalm before us, therefore, or any other, expatiates on the virtues and excellences of the man who is permitted “to ascend into the hill of the Lord,” or allowed “to stand in his holy place,” it is always implied, that he has come to the attainment of the character described, by a process of pardon and of purification through the previous exercise of the Divine mercy.

But, it is to be remarked, that the Levitical Institute, while so fully set forth and impressively taught the two great truths of the sinfulness of man, and the necessity for some Divinely appointed mode both for his reconciliation with God and the renewal or sanctification of his nature, did not reveal, completely and explicitly, what that mode was, or what it was to be. It dimly foreshadowed it;—it indicated the principle on which it would proceed, and the parts of which it would consist;—but it did this by type and symbol,—anticipating, in a picture, the substance and reality that were one day to be revealed. It was very evident, from the Hebrew Institute, considered as a Divine and intelligible appointment, that men were to learn from it that their approach to God was to be marked by solemn and affecting peculiarities. They were distinctly taught that they needed to be redeemed, reconciled, pardoned, purified, in order that they might be able to rejoice at the remembrance of God’s holiness, or to appear before him as acceptable worshippers; and they were further taught, that in order to this,—that is, to their attainment of pardon and its attendant advantages,—it was incumbent that atonement should be made by sacrifice, and that the priest should pass into the Divine presence with the blood of the victim, to bring thence, and through it, the blessings needed by sinful humanity.

St. Paul tells us, in the Epistle to the Hebrews, that the Levitical Institute taught this, and that it was intended to teach it; that is, that it taught what it was that humanity needed. But he tells us more than that; he tells us that it also taught that this thing that was so needed, and so wished for, was not yet revealed, that it was not provided by the Institute itself, in its own altar, victim, or priesthood,—and would not be manifested so long as itself stood; or, at least, that the coming of it, as it would be the fulfilment of what the Institute foreshadowed or foretold, would be the signal and means of its dissolution and departure. By the fact of sacrifice, and the sprinkling of blood, and the washings and purifications of their own ceremonial, the apostle says it was evidently taught, that there existed a necessity for the removal of sin and the cleansing of the conscience; but then, by the repetition of the sacrifices, the annual return of the day of atonement, and the mysterious darkness of the holy of holies,—excluded from sight by the awful veil, and permitted to be approached only once a year, and that only by one individual,—by all this, he says, it was equally taught, that Judaism did not accomplish for man, what it informed him needed to be done. The first covenant had ordinances of divine service,—a sanctuary—a veil—the tabernacle which is the holiest of all. Now, into this, the high priest alone went, “once every year, not without blood, which he offered for himself and for the errors of the people. The Holy Ghost this signifying, that the way into the holiest of all was not made manifest, while the first tabernacle was yet standing: which was a figure for the time then present, in which were offered both gifts and sacrifices, that could not make him that did the service perfect as pertaining to the conscience: which stood only in meats and drinks, and divers washings, and carnal ordinances, imposed on them until the time of reformation.”

Now, this typical and temporary character sustained by the Jewish Institute,—this parabolic and preparatory office which it had to fulfil,—this suggesting merely, or setting forth in a figure, of the wants of humanity and of the principle which must pervade, underlie, and distinguish the provision that must meet them,—this prophetic announcement that priest and sacrifice were yet future, but were certain to come,—all this, while it shows the importance of attending to the connexion between the Old and the New Testaments, and of mutually interpreting each by the other, gives, of necessity, to the more spiritual portions of the Hebrew records a far-stretching and comprehensive meaning, which can only be understood by looking at it in the light of the Christian revelation. “Coming events cast their shadows before.” The whole of the fabric and furniture of the tabernacle were constructed and arranged upon this principle. This principle was recognised and embodied in the utterances of the prophets;—it often pervaded the entire texture, or appeared in parts, of one or other of the psalms and songs of the ancient church. In looking at the intention and significancy of Judaism, we should imagine ourselves gazing on the floor of the temple and the front of the veil,—observing them covered with flickering shadows falling from objects which are unseen. There they lie,—the distinct outlines of thing and person,—the shadows of substances which are existing somewhere, but which only, as yet, give notice that they are, by this insubstantial intimation of themselves. In the holy of holies, there is the mysterious light of the glory of God seated between the cherubims;—between that and the hanging veil and the sacred floor, some one must be standing, whom, as yet, we see not,—for his shadow can be discerned on the veil itself, and even on the floor, as we mark minutely the appearances before us of light and shade. Some one is preparing to appear, and to be revealed, and manifested, in whose hands will be found the substance of those other objects whose shadows seem to be lying around us!—The approaching events are thus prophetically announced by these dim outlines; and, while they are being so, voices are heard from the great congregation, uttering an equally prophetic song,—celebrating the glories of what they see, but doing it in language which only finds its intended significance when applied to and associated with what they see not.

On this principle it is, then, that we have prophetic psalms;—psalms that are termed Messianic, from their referring to the Messiah, and anticipating his appearance, his sufferings and death, his resurrection and ascension, his kingdom and glory. Some of these refer, in their primary application, to other individuals and to mundane events;—they express the feelings and anticipations of the writers in relation to themselves, and they describe matters of immediate concern or recent occurrence; but they do this in language that admits of a deeper meaning and a larger range;—the import of which they that employed it might not know, and which we only learn from the New Testament expositors of the Hebrew text. When Jesus “opened the understandings of the apostles, that they might understand the Scriptures;” and when he condescended to show them the true meaning of their ancient books, he expounded to them, it is said, “What was written in the law, in the prophets, and in the Psalms concerning himself.” The evangelists and the apostles, in their future writings for the instruction and use of the Christian church, used this knowledge, or similar knowledge from the same source; and thus it is, that we find quotations from so many of the psalms,—some in the Gospels, some in the Acts, others in the Epistles of Peter and Paul. From one psalm the apostle takes the expression of man being made “a little lower than the angels,” to express the fact of Christ’s coming in the flesh, with the objects and results of it;—that “he was made a little lower than the angels for the suffering of death, that he might taste death for every man.” From another psalm, he applies language still stronger, to the same purpose. “Sacrifice and offering thou wouldest not, but a body hast thou prepared me: lo! I come to do thy will, O God.” The apostle’s comment upon this is very remarkable. Having quoted the passage, he proceeds to reason upon it after this manner:—When he says, “Sacrifice and offering, which are offered by the law, thou wouldest not, neither hadst pleasure therein, and then says, ‘Lo! I come to do thy will;’ he takes away the first that he may establish the second.” That is, he removes and puts aside the mere symbols of the preparatory dispensation, which were inefficient and typical, and reveals the reality, which they were meant to announce, and which they prophetically foreshadowed. That reality was the Divine “will” in its ultimate object, namely, “The offering of the body of Christ” “once for all,” “through the eternal Spirit,” “without spot;” by the which offering, we are saved and sanctified;—for it can do that for the heart and conscience which the others only showed to be necessary by what they did “for the purifying of the flesh.” From another psalm may be collected the physical circumstances of the crucifixion,—the “cruel mockings,” the “piercing of the hands and the feet,” the “parting of the garments and casting lots;” together with the anticipated mysterious utterances of the great sufferer, in his “bloody sweat,” and his mighty anguish! In another psalm, we find the resurrection;—the soul of Messiah is “not left in Hades,” the place of the dead, nor does “his body” in the grave, “see corruption;” and in other psalms, we find the foreshadowing of subsequent events:—his ascension into heaven; his official position, and mediatorial glories and functions, there; with much that relates to the corresponding effect of all this on earth:—“Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee”:—“The Lord said unto my Lord, Sit thou at my right hand until I make thine enemies thy footstool.” “The Lord hath sworn, and will not repent, Thou art a priest for ever, after the order of Melchisedek.” “The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the Lord, and against his anointed:—Yet have I set my king upon my holy hill of Zion.” “Thou hast ascended on high, thou hast led captivity captive: thou hast received gifts for men; yea, for the rebellious also, that the Lord God might dwell among them.” Now, this latter passage is to be particularly observed. It is a passage taken from one of the psalms,—a psalm sung at the removal of the ark, like the twenty-fourth, and which, like it, is taken up in the celebration of battle and war, victory and conquest. It is to be noticed, then, that the passage just quoted, is applied by the apostle Paul, in the Epistle to the Ephesians, to the ascension of Christ, and is connected by him with the work which he came from heaven to accomplish, and the blessings which he returned to heaven to dispense. “Unto every one of us is given grace according to the measure of the gift of Christ. Wherefore he saith, When he ascended up on high, he led captivity captive, and gave gifts unto men. (Now that he ascended, what is it but that he descended first into the lower parts of the earth? He that descended, is the same also as he that ascended up far above all heavens, that he might fill all things). And he gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers; for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ: till we all come, in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ.”

These last remarks will have revealed the drift of this long discussion, and will enable us now rapidly to bring it to a close. By “reasoning out of the Scriptures,” we have shown how the Levitical dispensation was, in its rites and usages, preparatory and prophetic of something to come;—by distinct passages from the Book of Psalms, as quoted and explained in the New Testament, we have shown how the hymns of the ancient church anticipated, by their recondite and profounder meaning, the same things that were foreshadowed in the ritual;—and, in the concluding remarks on this point, we have shown, how the apostle illustrates the ascension of Messiah, after successful battle and war—returning from conquest and crowned with victory—by referring to the words of a Hebrew Psalm. In the same way, then, we think ourselves entitled to connect the 24th Psalm with the mission of the Messiah, and to consider that the close of it, if not an intended prophecy of his ascension, is yet capable of being regarded as illustrative of it; and that it should suggest therefore the propriety of adding to whatever truths of a general nature the first verses of the psalm may embody, the specific peculiarities of the Christian revelation,—that revelation to which all previous discoveries were preparatory, and without which they cannot be complete. There is an emphatic sense, in which Christ is “the King of glory;” in which he is to be regarded as having being engaged in mortal combat,—contending with the enemy of God and man,—overcoming him in a way as mysterious as it was successful—by yielding himself to be “bruised for our iniquities,” and “stricken for our sins;” and that, “after having by himself purged our sins,”—after having, in the nature he had assumed, “presented himself an offering and a sacrifice,” that we might obtain “eternal redemption through his blood,”—he rose again from the dead, proclaiming his triumph over sin and Satan, by showing that it was “not possible for him to be holden” of Death; and further, that “he ascended up on high,”—entered into heaven, whose “everlasting gates” opened to receive him, as one who was “leading captivity captive,” and who came to ask and “to receive gifts for men.” All this we are warranted in connecting with the ideas which have already passed before us, of the supremacy of God, the duty of worship and the character of his worshippers, and of finding in it the evangelical element in which such ideas need to be baptized. God is; God is to be worshipped; God is holy; they must be holy who habitually approach him;—but “all have sinned and come short of the glory of God:” “every mouth must be stopped, for the whole world is guilty before Him.” “Who, then, shall ascend into the hill of the Lord, or who shall stand in his holy place?”—They, certainly, who have “clean hands” and “a pure heart,” but—who have first “made a covenant with God by sacrifice;”—who have accepted Him, whom he hath “set forth as a propitiation,” and “whose blood cleanseth from all sin;”—who, as sinners, draw nigh in his name, who is “the Way, the Truth, and the Life,” and without whom “no man cometh unto the Father;”—they who, believing in Him “who died, rose again, and continues to live,” and “who hath ascended up on high that he might fill all things,” have “received out of his fulness even grace for grace”;—have obtained the pardon of actual sin, and have received the gift of the sanctifying Spirit which the Redeemer is emphatically exalted to bestow;—they who, by the subjective operation of the truth, are “washed, and justified, and sanctified, in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the spirit of our God;” and who know, by experience, that “the grace of God which bringeth salvation, teaching them, that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, they should live soberly, righteously, and godly in the world.” “This is the generation of them that seek him, that seek thy face O God of Jacob.” “These receive the blessing from the Lord, and righteousness from the God of their salvation.” “They that do these things, shall never be moved.”

In this way, then, by taking the first verse of the psalm before us, which constitutes the inscription on the Royal Exchange, and looking at it in connexion with the whole composition of which it is a part, and by looking at that, also, in connexion with the religious institution it belonged to, and the entire revelation of both Testaments, as gradually developing the great system of mercy and mediation,—in this way, we are taught to associate with the general truths of an elementary Theism,—which is all that at first appear to be proclaimed,—the specific truths of an Evangelical Christianity. “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof;”—this simple declaration of the primary principle of all religion, when placed in the light emanating from the whole constellation of discoveries which surround it in the Jewish and Christian Scriptures, is seen to involve in it, not only the existence, the government, and the worship, of a personal God, but the reality and the functions, the work and the presidency, of a personal Redeemer. They that “ascend into the hill of the Lord, and that stand with acceptance in his holy place,” must be holy because God is holy; but it were terrible to make this demand upon humanity, which is altogether deformed and dislocated, and that manifests everywhere, when it thinks of God, that its next thought is that God is against it,—it were terrible, we say, to make this demand, if there came not along with it, the proclamation of the offer, and the announcement of the Divine method, of forgiveness,—the “reconciliation” effected by him who triumphed over sin by the death of the cross, and who ascended up on high in the might of his achievement, to be at once the medium of our access to God, and the Divine Distributor of the blessings of his salvation. Men, as men—that is, as sinners—are to believe the gospel, and to accept of Christ, that, by faith and repentance, spiritually “entering into the holiest of all, through the way he has consecrated for them by his blood,” they may be constituted the church; and then, being the church,—that is, sinful men justified and sanctified through him,—they are “to bring forth the fruits of the spirit” in their lives, and habitually to worship “in the beauty of holiness.” The virtue that we demand in the worshippers of God, under the rule of the Christian dispensation, is the virtue that flows from religious faith; that faith being, the exercise of trust in the redemption of the gospel. To have “clean hands” and “a pure heart,”—to be sincere and upright in lip and life—we exact of all men as their daily duty; but in order to possess these in a proper manner, so that they shall be vital, Christian holiness, and not a superficial and secular virtue, there is a previous duty which behoves to be attended to,—the submission of the mind to the faith of Christ,—penitent approach to an offended God through the one divinely-appointed Mediator, “in whom we have redemption, through his blood, the forgiveness of sins according to the riches of his grace.” Being “made partakers of the Divine nature,” through the influence of the quickening and sanctifying Spirit, they will then not only have “their fruit unto holiness,” and cultivate, from the force of a necessary law, and as impelled by a regal and irrepressible instinct, “whatsoever things are just, and whatsoever things are pure, and whatsoever things are true, and whatsoever things are lovely and of good report,” but they will be a part of “the priesthood of God,” endowed and consecrated by an unction from himself, that, in the various acts and exercises of the Church, they may constantly offer up “spiritual sacrifices acceptable to him by Jesus Christ.” These engagements, again, will re-act on their personal character, and have a constant tendency to advance and elevate it, and help their attainment of a practical perfection. In this way, men, first “having obtained like precious faith” with the Apostles, “in the righteousness of God, and of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ;” will be divinely taught the secret of a real and accumulative excellence. “Having escaped from the corruption that is in the world through lust,” they will “give all diligence to add to their faith virtue, and to virtue knowledge, and to knowledge temperance, and to temperance patience, and to patience godliness, and to godliness brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness charity.”

An intelligent adherent of the Scriptural, Protestant, and Evangelical faith of the living Christianity of this realm of England, associates all we have endeavoured to illustrate in the whole of our discussion with the simple inscription on the Royal Exchange. It is a text from the Bible. It recognises the Divine authority of the book; and the recognition of that authority in one of its sayings, carries with it the admission of the whole of its utterances. “The earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof.” The association of this, in a devout mind, is easy and natural with the exaltation and glory of the Redeemer of the world, whose last words when he left it were, “All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth,” and who, upon this, based the command which he gave to the Apostles, “Go ye, therefore, into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature.” The government of the earth is in the hands of Christ; it is mediatorial; it is not only that of goodness and beneficence, but it is that also of revealed mercy. God “will have all men to be saved, and to come unto the knowledge of the truth,” for his son “gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time.” There is another “fulness,” besides that of the teeming earth, and the annual redundance and prodigality of nature. There is “The fulness of Christ,—the fulness of him who filleth all in all;” the complete development of “his body the Church;” and the full-orbed display of his perfections and glory, when “to him every knee shall bow of things in heaven and things in earth; and every tongue shall confess that he is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” All this, the thoughtful observer associates with the sentence that daily meets the eyes of the citizens of this great metropolis. All this is being ceaselessly uttered in the hearing of the assembled congress of nations;—it is held up in the sight of the many and multitudinous representatives of the various tribes and peoples of the earth! What would be the future of Europe and the world,—moral, political, social, and religious,—if England and its visitors alike learnt, and fully carried out, all that is involved in what the one is proclaiming in the ears of the others?

In the succeeding pages of this book, we shall endeavour to reply to this question.

PART III.
PROPHETIC.

We began this book by referring to the circumstance, that the same illustrious individual who originated the idea of “the Great Exhibition,” and who has done so much to extend and realize it, suggested as an inscription for the Royal Exchange, a single sentence from our English Bible—“The earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof.” It is the first verse of the 24th Psalm. The suggestion was adopted;—and hence, on the front of the building referred to,—in very plain letters,—rather rude if any thing,—without adornment,—or figure or flourish of any sort—but conspicuous and legible, in our own homely, honest, Saxon tongue, stands, open to all the world, the public proclamation of our faith as a people—“The earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof.” It stands there, on the front of the edifice, which is the commercial centre of this great city,—the place of meeting for the men of different lands and of many languages, who, as the representatives of every clime and country upon earth, constitute, daily, a sort of typical gathering of all nations,—men connected with the “industry,” by being connected with the trade and traffic, of the world.

We proposed to put the two things together,—the inscription on the Exchange, with the anticipated gathering in the Palace of Industry,—and to consider the first as announcing to the second certain great truths, and these again as involving universal duties; and we further proposed to consider, in conclusion, what would be the result, to Europe and the world, if, by ourselves and our many visitors, with the aggregate of nationalities whom they will represent, these truths were all to be acknowledged, and the duties resulting from them were all to be done.

We then proceeded—taking in connexion with the first verse of the psalm, which constitutes the inscription on the Exchange, the entire sacred composition of which it is a part,—and viewing that, too, in connexion with the whole volume of Divine Revelation to which it belongs—we proceeded, on this principle, to develope and illustrate the truths and the duties to which we referred. Thus expounded, we found the confession, that “the earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof,” to include the following things. It involved, in the first place, the existence of God;—the acknowledgment of this,—and the acknowledgment of it in connexion with the idea of personality. In the second place, it involved God’s proprietorship of the world and man, and the recognition of this as carrying with it the acknowledgment of his being the Creator, since, immediately after the statement that “the earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof,” the Psalm goes on to say, “the world, and they that dwell therein;—for he hath founded it upon the seas and established it upon the floods.” In the third place, we educed from the confession that the “fulness” of the earth is God’s, the doctrine of Providence, including in that, the original disposition of materials for the service of man in the construction of the globe,—the whole arrangement of things, animate and inanimate, on its surface,—the establishment of all the laws of production,—the continual administration of these laws, by God’s personal supremacy and presidency over nature,—the gifts which he confers, on nations and individuals, of contrivance and skill, taste and genius,—with whatever else belongs to the constant communication of good, and the progressive advance and improvement of society. All these ideas were largely illustrated by various striking passages of Scripture; and the acknowledgment of the truths of Creation and Providence, were both shown to involve in them further evidence of the previous truth of the Divine personality.

We next advanced to some additional ideas of both truth and duty, which the acknowledgment of all this involved,—especially as this acknowledgment was illustrated by the whole psalm that was supposed to be before us, and as that was illustrated by the whole scheme of Divine discovery developed in the Bible, and the connexion between the Jewish and Christian revelations. We found the following things to be thus brought out. In the first place, the duty of worship:—this was suggested by the question, which immediately follows the acknowledgment of God, of creation, providence, and the Divine proprietorship of the earth and the world,—“Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord, who shall stand in his holy place?” Next, there was the answer to this question, which involved the obligation of universal virtue in God’s worshippers—that is, upon all men, since all men are alike bound to worship him: “He that hath clean hands and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully.” This was expounded as a demand for inward and outward purity—purity of soul, lip, and life—in all who habitually approached God in the solemnities of worship. But this demand for universal virtue in each worshipper,—associated with the obligation of all men to worship,—viewed in connexion with the general consciousness of defect and sin, and the proof and prevalence of ungodliness in the world,—led, in the third place, to the discussion of the great question—how humanity was to come to the attainment of that character, which was essential to the fulfilment of its religious obligations? To be in a proper moral and spiritual state for the discharge of habitual, acceptable worship, considered as a duty, we found, by a process of scriptural reasoning, to involve another and a previous duty; that, namely, of accepting the gospel as a system of mercy, and of submitting to Christ as the Redeemer of the world. We argued this, from looking at the lessons taught by the principle that pervaded the appointments of the Jewish ritual, and the prophetic bearing on the promised Messiah, of some of the hymns used by the people in the Hebrew worship. We showed how the whole of the ancient Institute taught the necessity of atonement and sacrifice,—pardon through a propitiation, and purity and holiness as divine effects; we saw how it intimated that it did not itself provide these, but, by typical rites, significant ceremonies, and prophetic songs, anticipated their coming in “the fulness of time,” when they should be procured and dispensed by one who was regarded as the hope and “the desire of all nations.” Without positively saying that the latter part of the twenty-fourth psalm was a distinct and intended prophecy of Christ, we showed, from the language of those psalms that are so, as quoted and expounded in the New Testament, that it might consistently be regarded as illustrative of Christ—of his return in triumph to the heavenly world, when, after having “overcome the sharpness of death,” “he ascended up on high, to receive gifts for men, even for the rebellious, that the Lord God might dwell among them,” and that they might become the holy and spiritual “priesthood” of God. In this way, we endeavoured to show how an intelligent Christian might associate with the first verse of the twenty-fourth psalm, all the scriptural revelations respecting Him, who, in the Te Deum,—one of the noblest of ancient Christian hymns,—is invoked in language borrowed from the close of it: “Thou art the King of Glory, O Christ!” and that thus, the simple words on our Exchange, which at first sight appear to announce only the general principles of Theism, would come to utter in the ear of instructed reason and enlarged faith, the specific truths of an Evangelical Christianity. It thus comes to pass, that we are taught ourselves, by the inscription referred to, and shall teach the nations to whom we exhibit it, that, for men “to ascend into the hill of the Lord, and habitually to worship in his holy place;” appearing there in “the beauty of holiness,” and everywhere exemplifying universal virtue; they must first come to him as sinners, through Christ, and that, then, being cleansed from their sins, by being “washed, justified, and sanctified, in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the spirit of our God,” they can constitute a holy, worshipping Church; and with “clean hands,” and “pure hearts,” offer up “spiritual sacrifices,” fragrant and acceptable to Him whom they approach,—such approach, again, ever re-acting on their further attainment of personal righteousness.

It now only remains for us to conclude and complete our originally projected course of observation, by setting forth what would be the future condition of the nations, supposing that all the world learned and practised the truths and duties which have thus been enumerated.

It is not unnatural to look at the subject in this way. Philosophers, and politicians, and social economists, are all regarding the great event which is just at hand,[1] as constituting the beginning of a new era and of better times; and as embodying in itself something like a prophecy of a brightened and improved future for the nations. For the first time in the history of the world, there is to be a flowing of the peoples of all lands to one spot. They are not summoned together by blast of trumpet; they come not inflamed by mutual animosities, nor with souls bent on conquest and carnage. Nor do they come for the purpose of witnessing games and tourneys,—feats of strength or speed,—the rude contests of muscular athletæ,—the skill of charioteers,—the sanguinary spectacle of gladiatorial shows,—or the combat of plumed knights, with their glittering armour and gallant bearing, their caparisoned steeds and gay attendants, making war look like a holiday entertainment. The gathering of the nations about to be held is to be altogether of another sort. The crowds that move to it, are not to move as a thunderbolt or a whirlwind, carrying in their course havock and desolation; they are to bring with them, in their tranquil march, the useful products of their respective countries, and the bloodless trophies of their industry and their skill. These are to be all collected and arranged in one great and extraordinary edifice, where they are to enter into a sort of peaceful contest and amicable rivalry, while the people themselves of every region are to mingle together, and to look on, and to observe, and compare, and wonder, and rejoice:—and it is expected to come to pass, that however unable the most of them may be to understand the spoken languages of the rest, all will be able to read and to interpret what will be written everywhere on the whole scene, and to comprehend the import of the common voice that shall seem to be issuing from the objects around them. The products of the different regions of the earth will recognise each other as belonging to one and the same world; the multitudes of things that will illustrate the achievements of skill and industry, though constructed or fabricated by the hands of men of many languages, will have among themselves a common dialect—a language of their own—but which all the different national workers shall alike understand. Everything will speak of oneness, brotherhood,—the same nature, the same faculties, the same Father,—the folly and wickedness of men not “living together in unity,”—of their degrading powers that are so wonderful, and so prolific of wonders, and desolating a world which they have such vast ability to beautify and adorn! From such a lesson it is hoped and expected that the crowds will disperse wiser and better,—more loving and more fraternal; and that a basis will be laid for such future peaceful and profitable intercourse, as shall render war an utter impossibility. It may be supposed, also, that the approaching event will only prove the first of a long series of similar exhibitions, which shall successively occur in all coming time, and which shall take place in different cities of Europe and America, till at length they may be fixed in some distant region of those lands that witnessed the birth or were honoured by being the cradle of the race, or in those which are at present the nurseries of nations as yet without a name. The whole thing, to some minds, is thus shaping itself into a prophetic type of a new aspect of the civilized world. But it is easy to see, that this prophecy is one which includes many others; for it could not be fulfilled, to the extent of its grand and comprehensive meaning, without a variety and number of important social and political changes being supposed as the necessary conditions of such a spectacle in other lands, as that which is possible and prepared for in our own.

We are merely adding then, to the calculations of philosophy, the higher thoughts suggested by the principles of our national faith, when we take the truths included in that faith, and, supposing them to be received by the nations of the earth, as we have drawn them out from the words that are enthroned in the midst of our city and in the sight of all men, proceed to inquire what would be the result of their being universally learned and embraced, and the duties they impose being universally obeyed. The inscription on the Exchange, if appropriate for it, is appropriate for the Palace of Industry too.[2] It is a glorious thing to think that we are living at such a time as this, and are about to witness such a festival as that projected by the Consort of our Sovereign;—not the banquet of a vain and idolatrous voluptuary, making “a feast for a thousand of his lords,” ready to desecrate what is sacred to religion, and to pour out libations of wine and strong drink, that “he and his princes, his wives, and his concubines, may lift up themselves against the God of heaven,” blaspheming his name and abusing his gifts, and “praising the gods of gold and of silver, of brass and of iron, of wood and of stone;”—it is not this, or we might expect the appearance of a mysterious hand, once more, with its “MENE, MENE, TEKEL, UPHARSIN,” to pronounce the doom of a voluptuous court and a devoted country;—it is not this, but a vast banquet for the eye and the intellect, the heart and the reason;—and one, too, projected on such a principle of recognising in all things the dominion of Him “who liveth for ever and ever,”—and “who ruleth alike over the hosts of heaven and the inhabitants of the earth,”—“in whose hand our breath is, and whose are all our ways,”—and “from whom cometh the gold and the silver, the brass, the iron, the wood and the stone;” the fruits of the earth and the abundance of the seas;—with every power and faculty of man—ability to accomplish and capacity to enjoy;—the whole thing so proceeds, we trust, on the acknowledgment of Him,—that, instead of a vision to strike terror and to scatter in confusion, we should rather imagine that we see written,—in radiant letters, by the hand of love and not of vengeance, to kindle devotion and strengthen faith,—on the crystal walls of the Palace of Industry, giving a glory to all its contents—“THE EARTH IS THE LORD’S, AND THE FULNESS THEREOF;—THE WORLD, AND THEY THAT DWELL THEREIN.”

Supposing this, then, to become the creed of the world, enlarged and illustrated by Christian associations, and for all its personal and practical lessons to be fully carried out, let us see what would be the condition of human society.

In the first place, there would be, everywhere,—in all lands and in all hearts,—the belief and acknowledgment of the one living and true God. All doubt, denial, and error, respecting this cardinal and central truth, would have passed away. There would be no Atheism,—the rejection and repudiation of a personal God; no Pantheism,—which is only Atheism under another name; no Scepticism,—professed uncertainty as to whether there is really a God or not; and no Polytheism—the belief of a mere rabble of divinities. All these forms of thought would cease and determine, and give place to the universal admission of the great fact of the Divine existence. No human being would be to be found, who could look over the earth with all its wonders, and survey the heaven with its sun and stars,—and see no proof or probability in either, of the existence anywhere of a being or a personality greater than himself! This is the amount of the Atheistic creed,—if creed it can be called, that consists only in denials and negations. The universe is a thing,—wonderful indeed, but nothing more,—having no consciousness, no capacity for voluntary action, nothing about it of personal properties; and, if there be no independent personal God, then, the greatest being that is known to exist in the whole universe,—the only one that can be spoken of as a person, is man himself!—a somewhat lame and impotent conclusion!—a poor summit to the infinitude of things! There are those who say that they believe this;—there will be none to say it, when it comes to be a universally admitted truth, that “the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof.” In the same way, there will be no thinkers, or professed thinkers, whose minds, repelled by the gross darkness of positive denial, but not drawn into the light of positive belief, wander in the fogs and mists of uncertainty, and “reason downwards till they doubt of God.” And in the same way, the myriads of gods, which the Asiatic nations conceive to be filling the heavens and the earth,—large and small,—great and little, but most of them debased,—will all disappear, like the more elegant system of the Greeks, that once divided the domain of nature, and parcelled it out among its subordinate divinities. Cleared and cleansed from all these various forms of error, the large heart of universal humanity will be open to the air and the sunlight of true thought, and will reflect, as from a mirror, the image of Him, who has “set his glory above the heavens,” and of whom it is said, that “the knowledge of him” is abroad “in all the earth,” since, “from the creation of the world,” he hath made manifest, “by the works of his hands,” “even his eternal power and Godhead.”

In the second place, there will be added to this universal acknowledgment of God, as the object of belief, a further recognition of him as the object of worship. All men would be worshippers of God, if, throughout the world, there should be not only the prevalence of the belief of that God is, but the working out of the results of that belief,—that because he is, he is “the hearer of prayer,” and that “to him,” therefore, “all flesh should come.” Taking this subject, however, in connexion with all the explanatory illustrations which we have already advanced, it is easy to see that it is of wide compass, and will include far more than might at first be apparent.

The God, whom we suppose to be acknowledged, is the God of the Bible, and the worship by which we suppose him to be approached, would be worship conducted on the principle which pervades it, and regulated by all that its spirit and precepts concur to prescribe. The Being referred to in the Scriptural expression,—“The earth is the Lord’s,”—is not one whose existence and character are demonstrated by philosophy, and who may thus be considered as a sort of hypothesis;—it is, as we have said, the God of the Bible,—the God who has made himself known by supernatural facts and verbal revelation, and whose discovery of himself in the works of his power, and in the constant displays of his wisdom and beneficence, is to be supplemented and enlarged by the whole of the utterances of his grace and mercy. On this principle it was, that we took the expression, “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof;” not as an independent and isolated sentence,—not as a thing to be looked at by itself,—but in connexion with the contents of the entire volume of which it is a part: and we saw, when we did so, that it brought out, into great prominence, such a view of the teaching of Scripture in respect to the relations of God and man, as necessarily affected, very materially, the whole theory and practice of worship. But it is this view of the meaning of the passage, that we are supposing to be learned and acknowledged by the nations, and therefore the worship, in which we are further supposing them to unite, would of course be that which the whole of our exposition would inculcate or explain.

It is remarkable, too, that philosophical Deism never leads to worship in its disciples,—at least not to anything in the form of regular social or public acts. It is possible for a simple Theist consistently to pray, or to extol and adore the Deity he acknowledges; and it may be, that some Theists privately do so,—though all probabilities,—it may by no means uncandidly, be said,—are rather against it. What would be possible and consistent, however, in a Deist by himself, would be equally so in a company of such. On the principle of their believing in a personal God, they might meet together for public worship. But they never do. The mere admission of the one principle that God is, would seem not to be sufficient to lead men to worship;—it needs to be connected with another principle—that which affirms that “God has spoken,” or that, by some means, he has supernaturally made himself known, revealed his interest in human nature, and drawn near,—or draws near,—to the human race. All religions, always and everywhere, have pre-supposed something of supernatural intercourse between God and man;—they have had, or have, their traditionary belief of divine appearances,—their notions of a priesthood peculiarly favoured or filled by the divinity, through which, and through whose acts, the people could acceptably approach and pray. The believers in the Bible believe, of course, in supernatural manifestations of the Divine Being, made to them in the records, and embodied in many of the facts, of the book; and it is this belief that makes them worshippers. For the habit of worship, then, facts everywhere and abundantly demonstrate, you must have a religion; and for the existence of religion, you must have the belief of supernatural discoveries of God to man, in addition to the display of himself in his works. Deism is not a religion, but a philosophy; it has a God, but it does not worship; and it does not worship, because God, according to its conception of him, has never broken the silence of nature, or narrowed the distance between him and his creatures by passing over the limits of fixed law. All men who worship, whether their worship be pure or corrupt, do so, we repeat, because they have a religion, and they have a religion, because they believe in something supernatural as to their knowledge of God; something which makes their belief of him faith in what is demonstrated by miraculous fact or divine statement; and not merely opinion, as the logical conclusion of a speculative philosophy.

These principles and reasonings being apprehended, will clear the way to the intelligent perception of the variety of things that must be understood as included in the idea of all the world becoming worshippers of God, as the result of their perception of what we, as a nation, are supposed to teach. For men to be worshippers, their knowledge of God must be religious, not philosophic; for it to be religious, it must be founded on belief in a supernatural revelation; it will be this, when they acknowledge that “the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof,” in words taken from the Jewish Scriptures, and regarded as an utterance of, the Divine voice. By such an acknowledgment they will recognise the whole of those Scriptures, as “given by inspiration of God,” or, as written by men who wrote “as they were moved by the Holy Ghost.” But the admission of this, will draw with it the admission of the second series of writings, and the acknowledgment of their intimate connexion with the first, as the perfect development of what the first foreshadowed, and the record of the fulfilment of what they foretold. The faith of the men, therefore, who begin with the confession that “the earth is the Lord’s,” and who profess it in the words of a Divine saying, and as such, must go on till it takes in what the Hebrew institute taught in type, and the Hebrew prophets uttered in words, when they “spake beforehand of the sufferings of Christ, and of the glory that should follow;” and it must still go on, and can only be rationally and consistently complete, when it receives the whole of the evangelical discoveries of the New Testament respecting the redemption of the Christ of God. This, then, would be the faith of future society, the world over; and by this faith its worship would be regulated, if, as we are supposing, the nations should learn from us our religious belief in all its extent, and should follow it out in all its obligations.

The worship of the world, then, would be Christian worship. Men would be worshippers, because they would be religious; they would be religious, because they would have a religion, not a philosophy; and that religion, would be the one taught in the Christian Scriptures, and founded on the facts of the Christian revelation. All that we shall say of the consequence of this, at present, is, that, just as the admission of a personal God puts aside all forms of denial or error upon that point, so, the admission of a particular form of Divine discovery, and the establishment of worship according to the principles of a specific revelation, will put aside all other systems of worship, and overturn the pretensions of all other supernatural beliefs. Mohammedanism and idolatry would alike die under the predominance of the Christian sentiment;—the one as including too little, in not adding to the knowledge of God the knowledge of the redemptive act of the Christ; and the other as including too much, in having “gods many and lords many,” and worshipping these through visible objects, or regarding the visible objects as Divine; thus “falling down to the work of their hands,” and “turning the truth of God into a lie.” When Christian worship shall be universal in the earth, the gods, and priests, and altars and temples of all other religions will have departed; everything gross, cruel, and obscene will have passed away, and have given place to the practical knowledge of the one living and true God,—to Him, “who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity,” and who requires to be worshipped by men of “clean hands” and of “pure hearts.” Then will be brought to pass many of the sayings that are written in the Book which often portrays, in prophetic song, visions of the triumph of religion and righteousness, and of that FUTURE, which it sees, and celebrates, and it is to make for humanity. “The Lord will famish all the gods of the earth.” “The idols he will utterly abolish.” “It shall come to pass, that the gods which have not made the heavens and the earth, even they shall perish from the earth, and from underneath these heavens.” “So men shall fear the name of the Lord from the west, and his glory from the rising of the sun.” “For, from the rising of the sun even to the going down of the same, his name shall be great among the Gentiles; and, in every place incense shall be offered unto him, and a pure offering.” “Behold the days come, saith the Lord, when they shall not teach every man his neighbour, and every man his brother, saying, Know the Lord, for all shall know me from the least even unto the greatest.” “In that day, shall there be one Lord and his name one.” For “the kingdoms of the world shall become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ; and he shall reign for ever and ever.”

But in the third place, as we are supposing the nations of the world to be intelligently led from the simple sentence,—“the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof,” to the admission of the contents of the entire book, and the full understanding of the whole system of mercy and mediation, as developed in shadow, in the Hebrew ritual, and given, in substance, in the work of Christ; and as we are supposing, that, because of the fact of their knowledge, their worship will be Christian;—we wish it further to be observed, that, because of the mode of their acquiring that knowledge, and on account of the accuracy and extent of it, their worship will not only be Christian as to its general character, but it will come to be of a kind distinguished by certain specific peculiarities.

That is to say, learning their faith from a certain book, and from being taught to comprehend the entire contents of it,—and finding in that book, that though there are “some things in it hard to be understood,” it is yet in its entireness the property of the people; it will come to pass, that all the people will claim to possess it,—will stand to their claim,—and will enforce and carry it, until there shall be none that shall dare to deny or to resist. Then, again, a whole world of intelligent and earnest men, with the Bible in their hands, as Divine thought,—studying the book “till the word of Christ dwells in them richly, in all wisdom and spiritual understanding,”—“having the form of knowledge and of truth” there;—marking and comprehending “the things that differ,” and spiritually taught to distinguish between that, which, however glorious when in its proper place, came, at last, to have “no glory, because of the glory that excelleth;”—“waxed old and vanished away as a thing that was done with,” in consequence of that coming in its stead, which was never to be moved—never to be surpassed, and never supplanted by any further or superior dispensation;—men, understanding all this, and understanding, too, that, in consequence of it all, they have the knowledge of a sacrifice which could never be repeated,—and “a great High Priest of their profession, who has entered into heaven, and appears in the presence of God for them,”—and that themselves are “a holy priesthood,” and that spiritual acts, affections, and duties, are the incense and sacrifices of the Christian church, “with which ‘alone’ God is well pleased;”—such men—and we are supposing the whole world to be such—would cleanse Christendom of the corruptions of the faith, just as Christianity, generally considered, would, by its active and universal diffusion, subvert and extinguish the idolatries of Heathenism.—Human priesthood, visible altars, the sacrifice of the mass, literal incense, the “lifting-up of the soul unto vanity,” in the sense of the adoration of saints and martyrs, the worship of a woman, of pictures, images, and relics of the dead,—ecclesiastical tyrannies, popular superstitions, and popular serfdom,—with everything else that is incompatible with a vital and diffused Christian intelligence,—all these would pass away;—the one offering of the one Priest—and the exclusive intercession of the “one Mediator between God and men,”—would be the only things before the mind of the churches;—while they would meet habitually, and meet everywhere, to worship in simplicity,—“in spirit and in truth,”—undeceived by empty ritualisms,—regaled and refreshed by “a rational service,” and edified and established by a ministry of instruction. Christ will be understood to be “a priest upon a throne;” to be the Head of the church, and the superior and “Prince of the kings of the earth,” and to hold in his hands “the keys of death and of the invisible world,”—“to open so that no man can shut, and to shut that no man can open;”—and when all this is apprehended by the nations, it will not be endured that there shall be a sort of blasphemous mimicry of it all in the pretensions and claims of the Man of Sin. “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein;”—when this is understood, in its Christian acceptation, and all men are aware that for all equally “Christ died,”—that they are his property, and that none are to interfere between him and his,—that He alone is “Lord” alike, “of the dead and of the living,” and that by “setting his love” on all, he makes each individual spiritually “great,” and stamps a dignity on the nature he redeemed,—when these things are known and felt, there will be none who will “lord it over God’s heritage,” or none to submit to the attempted usurpation.

In the next place,—in consistency with the principles previously expounded, of the character that God demands in his worshippers,—the necessity to their acceptance, in divine service, of their possession and culture of universal virtue,—and the manner by which, in Christian worshippers, virtue expands and developes into holiness;—in consistency with this, we have next to remark, that when men have become what we have sketched as to religion, there will be the prevalence among them of an elevated morality. It is not denied that there may be virtue and morals without faith;—and that the honourable, and the true, and the lovely, and the beautiful, in habit and behaviour, may exist in the man who is destitute of religion. It is quite possible that an individual who denies that “the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof,” by denying that there is any Lord to whom it can belong;—who, therefore, has no sense of religious reverence,—no idea of Divine authority,—no thought of a future account,—who never worships, never acts from spiritual motives, or as “seeing Him who is invisible,”—it is quite possible for such a man to find reasons in the present, visible constitution of things, for making the best of the life that now is, by living purely, uprightly, and honestly in the world. We admit this. But we are now supposing that all men have risen into a higher sphere, through the reception and power of religious faith,—and that their virtue, instead of being a thing that has its roots in the earth, and is nourished by mere mundane influences, is a thing which flows down upon them from heaven, and is quickened and invigorated by intercourse with God. The religious man, if he be true to his privileges and profession, will have all the virtues of the man of the world, besides some others which the latter has not;—and still further, as those that they have in common, are, in him, fed and sustained from a far higher and diviner source than what nourishes those of the man of the world, they ought to be seen to be both more pure and more elevated than his, in simple correspondence with that circumstance. Future society, then, being supposed to have come under the influence of religious truth,—to be reconciled to God through the death of his son, and to be regenerated and renewed by the sanctifying Spirit, and, as such, habitually “to ascend into the hill of the Lord,” and to worship acceptably “in his holy place,” it is to be expected, as the result of this, that it will “increase and abound in all holy conversation and godliness.” Now, there is no personal or social virtue that the New Testament does not inculcate, or that the spirit of the gospel is not adapted to nourish and expand. If the nations of the world were each to possess a national religion in the sense of the whole nation being religious, then, every individual would be chaste and temperate, upright and truthful, fortified by the strength and softened and adorned by the beauties of holiness. Every family would be loving and harmonious; parents wise and worthy of respect; children obedient; brethren living “together in unity.” All business would be conducted justly; commercial transactions would be all clean, and capable of being touched with “clean hands;” trade and handicrafts would be noble and dignified, by being pervaded by the great idea of “duty,” and attended to on principles which would be the very same as those that control the doings of an angel, or direct and inspire a seraph in his songs! Nowhere would be seen drunkenness, or seduction;—robbery and murder would be things of the past. There would be no oppression on the part of the rich; no pride or tyranny in the powerful; no injustice between class and class; no envy in the less favoured of God’s children, prompting them to harsh or petulant judgments of their more distinguished or opulent brothers. There never can be literal and absolute equality of station or circumstance;—there never can be a uniformity of rank or possessions. In the most perfect condition of the world and man, there must still of necessity be master and servant, the employer and the employed;—the head of one, the hand of another, the capital of a third, the back for a burden, and the feet for toil; all these will always be required, and must be furnished, and must act, in any improved state of society. But they may act harmoniously. There need be no fraud, oppression, or injustice. There may be everywhere given “the fair day’s wages for the fair day’s work;”—and there may be everywhere rendered “the fair day’s work for the fair day’s wages.” Society, like the church, is a body with its members. It has its head and feet, its ear and eye, its mouth and hands;—the health of the body, or its physical perfection, does not consist in every member having the same office; but in all fulfilling their respective functions, without disturbance,—each being thus in unity with the rest. The perfect and healthful development of society consists in a condition analogous to this. Christian communism, and Christian socialism, if anything of the sort shall hereafter be, will be found to consist, not in society’s ceasing to be a body by becoming entirely but one member—a huge head, or a gigantic foot, or a great, swinging, muscular arm,—but in all the members acting healthily in their own place; and, while doing so, each having the same care of the other. In this way, and in this way alone, can society be preserved from opposite dangers;—from becoming a monster without parts, that must of necessity perish from the want of organic or functional vitality—or being torn by intestine schisms and dissensions that must tear it to pieces or make it explode!

It is not possible to enlarge on these and kindred matters, that might be introduced under the present illustration. Enough has been said to make manifest the general principle, that, on the supposition of the diffusion in the world of an intelligent, vital, and uncorrupted Christianity, there would result from it the fruits of a universal righteousness. Every family would be “a church in the house;” children would be trained in the way they should go; and conversion from outward, practical wickedness, would be seldom needed in adult age. Education would be universal. Learning and knowledge would be “the stability of these times”—with the fear of God, and the hope of salvation. Science would be devout, and literature pure. The universe would be explored with reverence and humility; discoveries announced without boasting; and improvements and inventions received with gratitude. No books would be written to demoralize and corrupt,—nor the arts be allowed to minister to licentiousness. Industry would be cheerful, and labour honoured; the fruits of the earth would be taken and used as a Divine gift; and the productions of skill would be connected with thoughts of the Maker of the mind. In that day, there would be on every object “holiness to the Lord,” for all men would act in consistency with the belief, that “the earth is His, and the fulness thereof.”

In the last place: it only remains to be remarked, that this universality of religion and righteousness, in each nation of the earth respectively, would come to have an effect on the relations and intercourse of each with the rest, and on its own internal constitution and action. If all nations were really to believe that “the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof,” and especially to connect with this the next clause,—“the world, and they that dwell therein;”—and if they were honestly to carry such a creed fairly out, into all its great practical results,—it would be found to be the charter of peace and freedom, order and liberty, in all lands. Let men get the idea that the earth is God’s, not theirs,—and that all the race are alike his,—his, at once, as created by his goodness and redeemed by his mercy;—and especially let it be imagined, that all habitually mingled in his worship, and that all felt inspired by a desire to live in constant, practical harmony with his will;—why, there could be neither war, nor slavery, nor anarchy, nor despotisms;—men could not be brought, on the supposition suggested, to be trained and taught to slaughter one another!—or to steal one another!—or to buy, and sell, and fetter, and lash those who were the exclusive property of God, and who, whatever their colour, were each of them as much a man as themselves! No monarch could be seduced into the belief that a whole people was made for him;—or that power was not a trust;—or that it could be used for any purpose but the good of the nation, and according to the eternal principles of right on which God himself governs his own. Nor would a people imagine that any new institutions would benefit them, or any change or revolution be an improvement, if they were not each of them a king over himself.—We do not mean to say that one form of political government may not be intrinsically better than another;—but we do mean to say that the Future of the world will no more be distinguished by the same form of political government being universal, than by the universal prevalence of one mode of ecclesiastical polity;—and we further mean to say, that the diffusion of an intelligent and instructed Christianity would carry into the bosoms of all men the Scriptural principles, that government is the institution of God;—that God, in this respect, is the God of order;—and that reverence for authority and submission to law are as much Christian duties as anything else.—Authority may be abused, and law may be unjust; but he who acts in the fear of God, will suffer much, and think more, before he will be persuaded that political rebellion and disobedience are virtues. We do not say that there are not occasions when the one may be patriotic and the other right;—but there is a time coming when none in the places of trust and power will so act as for this to be the case,—and when none in those of submission and obedience will feel that a dignified and manly loyalty has become either an impossibility or a burden. Governors, nowhere, will fear discussion; or fetter the press; or refuse reforms; or cripple independence;—and people, nowhere, will abuse their rights; or desire, or demand, the unreasonable or unjust. The aggregate of families, which make up a nation, living in unity, like each of the families that constitute or compose it, the aggregate of nations will dwell together in the same spirit, and with the same results. Commerce will bring, more and more, the whole earth into friendly intercourse;—the sea that would seem to divide the nations, shall be as a chain to bind people to people, and land to land. Instead of meeting for hostile purposes, there will be the interchange of visits to promote science, to perfect literature, to spread art, to cultivate religion—or to honour God in the results of industry, by the circulation round the world of an Exhibition like that which is just at hand. If, in all these ways to which we have adverted, the lessons of our Royal Exchange were to be learned, and we ourselves, and our expected visitors, to carry them out, in the full development of individual, social, and national life,—many of the pictures of the prophets would be realized; the kingdom of heaven would be established on the earth; and the tabernacle of God would be universally with man. Evils might remain, but everything would tend to mitigate or diminish them. The world would be a temple,—the nations a church;—all work would be a daily worship, while daily worship, strictly so called, would hallow and sanctify all work. The day of rest would be welcomed as it came,—but welcomed for its devotion, as well as its repose. From all hearts, from all hands, from palace and cottage—from the mine and the market-place—from the field and the factory—the forge and the loom—the city and the sea, from all nations and from all men,—there would be going up constantly to heaven, that which is required when Christians are exhorted in language like this—“Dearly beloved, I beseech you, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.” Were this ever to be universally realized, the final cause of the creation of the world, might, without a figure, be said to be attained. God’s great idea would be seen to be complete; and He himself, if we might so speak, after being grieved by the wickedness of the race, would return again to the unruffled, deep, and ineffable satisfaction with which he was filled before the world was, when, anticipating the results of his creative energy, “he rejoiced in the habitable parts of the earth, AND HIS DELIGHTS WERE WITH THE SONS OF MEN.”

Having thus filled up our originally projected outline of thought, we shall rapidly conclude and consummate the argument by two or three practical suggestions.

1. In the first place, a few hints may not be inappropriate as to the spirit with which Christians should contemplate the Exhibition. There are some prophets, of these our times, whose “scrolls” in relation to the great event, are filled with “lamentation, mourning, and woe.” They can see nothing, in the thing itself, but a gigantic display of pride and vain glory,—and they apprehend nothing, from the meeting of the nations, but mutual corruption, prolonged riot, and perhaps blood. Their favourite analogies are the Tower of Babel, Nebuchadnezzar’s golden image, or the Devil tempting Christ by revealing on the mount “all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them,” or some such human or diabolical atrocities! Now it is a pity to give way to these dark imaginings;—to see nothing in our fellow-man but what is bad, and to expect nothing from the hand of God but the thunderbolt of vengeance, or the “vials of wrath!” It is far better, far more becoming, especially in those that believe that “the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein,” to take healthy, cheerful, and hopeful views, of the great event,—whose origin, it is at least possible, may have been good, and whose influence and results may be useful. It ought by no means to be thought a self-evident thing, that there is nothing in the multitude of minds and hearts, which have all been engaged in perfecting the Exhibition, but selfish vanity and godless pride. In many there may have been frequent and great thoughts of God, devout humility, and earnest prayer for that blessing without which nothing can be successful. Supplications may have gone up, in various languages and from many lands, that God would direct and crown the work, and cause it to promote his kingdom and glory; and, though the numbers may have been small, who have thus sought to hallow and sanctify the project by prayer, in comparison with those who are interested in it without devotion and without reference to the Divine blessing, Christians should remember, that, in a world like ours, living under mercy, the very principle of the Divine government is, to bless one man through the medium of another, and even to bless the many for the sake of the few;—just as ten men of righteousness and of faith might have saved the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, and as those that were saved, were saved on account of one such man,—for “when the Lord destroyed the cities of the plain, he remembered Abraham, and—sent Lot out from the midst of the overthrow.” Let Christians, therefore, have faith in one another. Let them believe that many as good as themselves are engaged in the Exhibition, and have devoutly sought for it the blessing of the Most High. Let others learn to do likewise. Instead of indulging in forebodings and prophecies which, being uttered, might fulfil themselves, they should rather exercise trust in Providence, indulge hope for the church and the world, and earnestly endeavour to serve both, by hearty, honest, and sincere intercession for all nations, and for all men,—that that God, who can make even “the wrath of man to praise him,” would educe praise and glory to Himself, and much that shall be productive of happiness to men, from what brings them together in peaceful intercourse, and reminds them of their common relation to himself. The “crisis” of the world occurred when there was a gathering of strangers and foreigners in one place;—they were brought together at the time of the crucifixion,—they were assembled again at the wonders of Pentecost,—and there can be no doubt that there was a designed coincidence on both occasions. God has sanctified the meeting of numbers, of “men of every nation under heaven,”—“Parthians and Medes, and Elamites, and the dwellers in Mesopotamia, and in Judæa, and Cappadocia, in Pontus, and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, in Egypt, and in the parts of Libya, about Cyrene, and strangers of Rome, Jews and proselytes, Cretes, and Arabians,”—God has sanctified a gathering like this to his own purposes,—to the establishment of his kingdom and the spread of his truth; and what he has done before he may do again; and he will do it, if Christians devoutly and earnestly seek it, by such a spirit of prayer, as, “loving all things, and believing all things, and hoping all things,” will crave at his hand a blessing for their brothers, and crave it so that it cannot be denied.

2nd. In visiting the Exhibition, there are many sentiments which Christians might indulge as means of impression or improvement to themselves. It is hardly necessary, after having gone through the foregoing argument, to press upon the reader the duty of seeing and remembering God in all that will be displayed of the riches of nature and the products of art. It is true, indeed, that it is to be the Exhibition of the Industry of the Nations,—that is, it is, in a manner, to reveal and magnify MAN by accumulating and displaying his wonderful works. But there is a way of doing this, that may be humble and religious, and there is a way of regarding and of looking upon it, which may minister much to the health and nourishment of the divine life. To think highly of what man is, and to strengthen such thoughts by becoming familiar with what he has done, may only make us think more wisely and wonderfully of God, and more justly of the worth of the soul, and of the importance of salvation to that nature whose capacities would seem to be so mysterious and so vast! To think of man lying like a wreck on the outside of Eden, naked and ignorant, without a teacher and without tools,—his mind darkened, his spirit depressed,—with understanding, indeed, and impulses and instincts to help him in his first efforts at labour,—a whole world of raw material under his foot, the compass of the earth for the sphere of his achievements, his head and hand the instruments of action, but the one as yet without knowledge, and the other equally without skill! And then to think of what he has done! How that poor, solitary, naked man, beginning with some rude attempt at the cultivation of the earth and the collection of flocks,—seeking for himself and his dependent companion, the mere supply of their animal wants, clothing of the coarsest, unwoven and undressed,—with food unprepared and unpalatable,—and shelter that might be furnished by a few trees or a hole in a rock! To think what he has become since then! How one generation has improved upon another, and how discovery and invention, and labour and skill, and industry and genius, have covered the earth with a succession of wonders; and then to think, how a sort of representative epitome of these is to stand before us in the marvellous contents of the last and greatest wonder of the world! That wonder will include specimen and proof of what man has done for himself and his dwelling-place, since he lay helpless on the margin of the earth, like a ship-wrecked mariner that had got to shore, but with the loss of all things. Guided and helped by the Divine power, but in a manner consistent with his intelligent nature, his free thought and personal agency, the mind of man was developed and enlarged, society formed, and arts and handicrafts, science and letters, rose and realized what history records, and what modern civilization so wonderfully represents. Rock and forest, earth and ocean, animated nature in all its forms, everything placed around and beneath him, supplied materials which he learned to employ for his convenience and use. He covered the earth with towns and cities, erected temples, palaces, and pyramids,—subdued the most stubborn of the beasts of the field, tamed the most ferocious, outstripped the swiftest, and reduced the strongest to obedience and servitude. He clothed himself in skins, in fur, in flax, in silk and wool,—gradually improving as he went on, till fineness of fabric and elegance of design have become the property of the people at large. He decorated and adorned his private abode, and filled public buildings and public places with the creations of beauty and the triumphs of art. He has crossed the ocean and sounded its depths; he has penetrated the earth and drawn thence her concealed treasure; he has interrogated nature, and obtained, or forced from her, the most astonishing replies; he has soared into the heavens, has counted, weighed, and measured the stars; he can foretell events with certainty and precision—the appearance of a comet, or the occurrence of an eclipse; he has made fire and water, lightning and steam, to do his bidding,—to transmit his messages, transport his property, carry himself, lighten his labour, and perform his work. He has given to sound sentiment and eloquence, and has made instruments of music that can subdue multitudes. Of all these achievements, and of a vast variety of other forms of skilfulness and power, the Great Exhibition will present the proofs, and exhibit them in their latest and most perfect development. And yet it is to be remarked, that with all it will do, it will leave the greatest and the most wonderful of the works of man uncollected and unseen. Mechanical industry has its many marvels,—art and science their miraculous results; but the highest form of the greatness of humanity is to be met with in books,—in the art that has given visibility to speech, and permanent endurance to thought and emotion,—and in the thoughts and emotions of gifted minds, which, in every age, and in all lands, have adorned the race by the researches of the intellect, the conflagrations of eloquence, and the sublimities of song. These things cannot be represented in the Palace of Industry; and yet these are the things that belong to the highest regions of the mind;—to powers and faculties that more than anything else illustrate the inherent greatness of man;—that lead him to the contemplation of the right, the divine, the beautiful and the good in action and character;—that render him capable of religious faith;—and that might make him a happy and virtuous intelligence if he were called to exist separate from the body,—without the feeling of physical necessities, without a surrounding material world, and without members to mould and fabricate, and work up anything whatever in the way of mere mechanical dexterity.

Now these thoughts, and a thousand others of a kindred sort, may all be indulged by a reflective man in visiting the Exhibition,—indulged devoutly, and turned to eminent spiritual advantage. Every thing that man is seen to have achieved,—every proof of his sagacity and power, his skill and performance—will only enhance, in a thoughtful soul, the impression of the wonderfulness of that nature which God originally made for himself, which sin has degraded, and which Christ has redeemed. The number of such proofs increasing the conception of the wonderfulness of the nature they so marvellously manifest, will render the fact of redemption credible,—increasing the probability that God should interpose to recover and restore it. And the great fact, that, after all that the grand pageant can do, and in spite of the splendour and magnificence of its contents, it will actually leave the most wonderful portion of the human mind unillustrated, and incapable of illustration,—why, this may well lead to the solemn remembrance of some of the most impressive of Scriptural truths. “What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?” “All flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass; the grass withereth, the flower fadeth, but the word of the Lord endureth for ever; and this is the word which by the gospel is preached unto you.” “All these things shall be dissolved;” “the earth and all things that are therein shall be burned up,—but we, according to his promise, look for new heavens and a new earth in which dwelleth righteousness.” And still further, the fact of the exhibition of the half, merely, of the greatness of man by the works of his hands, (and that the lesser and lower portion,) may suggest the analogy that there is in this, with the manner of God’s discovery of himself. He, in his works, has revealed and illustrated his wisdom and power, goodness and beneficence, and, to the eye of reason, these are largely reflected there;—but the manifestation of his moral attributes, his justice and love, compassion and mercy, is made to faith in the gospel of his Son; and however most men may be alive to the first, and blind or insensible to the second of these discoveries, there are beings in the universe who are intent on the higher exhibitions of God,—just as there are devout and meditative men who will gaze on the wonders of the Palace of Industry only to be reminded of the spiritual and immortal of human nature, which the edifice with its marvels will do little to illustrate! Heaven has its “fulness” as well as earth. That fulness is “the fulness of Christ;”—his sufferings on earth and the glory that is to follow. This is called “the unsearchable riches.” In the mystery of redemption are “hid,” or lie embodied, “all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge,”—the higher forms of God’s manifestation of himself to his creatures. “Into THESE THINGS the angels desire to look.” And they do this in exact conformity with the Divine purpose in the revelation of himself in this the greatest of his works, for it was set forth, “TO THE INTENT that unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places, might be made known by the church the manifold wisdom of God.”

3rd. But British Christians have a great and solemn lesson to learn from the view that we have taken, in this discussion, of their language to the world. If it be so, that we profess as a nation, and utter openly in the hearing of all men, the truths that have been illustrated, then, also, ought it to be felt, that we lie under the most binding and imperative obligations to exemplify the duties which have been explained and enforced. It becomes us to cultivate the devout and practical recognition of God; to keep his Sabbaths; to wait upon him in worship; to approach him through Christ, that we may do so acceptably; to “live in the spirit,” that “we may not fulfil the lusts of the flesh;” “to walk in the spirit,” that our daily virtue may be divine holiness. It is well “to hold forth the word of truth,” and to witness for God, for the gospel, and for righteousness, in the sight of the nations; but it must be done practically as well as by profession,—by conduct in harmony with the articles of our creed,—or our testimony will expose us to ridicule and rebuke, and may provoke by its mockery the vengeance of the Most High. Let England beware, that it do not itself, amidst the blaze and glory of the Great Exhibition, forget the truth and the lessons taught by it, that “the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof.” Let it beware, “lest, being lifted up with pride, it fall into the condemnation of the devil.” It is a terrible thing not to give God the glory of our achievements;—“to sacrifice to our own net, and to burn incense to our own drag.” It was when the king’s heart was lifted up with pride, and when he said to himself, “Is not this Great Babylon that I have built,”—it was then that God smote him from on high, seared his intellect, and sent him to herd with unintelligent natures! England is first in the commerce of the world; her “merchant princes” are the nobles of civilization; her markets and manufactures have decked her with beauty and made her great;—but it would be well for her to remember, that it was just such a country that, in ancient times, had her magnificence described with the greatest minuteness by God’s prophets, but described to illustrate the extent of her ingratitude, the aggravations of her sin, and the certainty and completeness of her predicted destruction. It was fearfully realized. The glory of Tyre was swept away, and her place became bare as the top of a rock, on which the fisherman might spread out his net to the sun! It might be well, too, to remember, that the prophetic description in the book of the Apocalypse, of the Babylon that is to fall in some yet future judgment of God, is the description of a commercial and maritime city, over which the merchants of the earth mourn and lament “because her judgment hath come, and no man buyeth her merchandise any more.” That these instances should neither be type nor prophecy of Britain, she must take care to walk by the light of her own creed—that “the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof,”—and according to all the devotion and humility and practical righteousness that this would inculcate. It is well with a people when their garners are full and their flocks prolific;—when their sons are as plants grown up in their youth, and their daughters as polished marble columns; when there is no political convulsion in the land, and no complaining of poverty in their streets. “Happy is the people that is in such a case;” but happier they “whose God is the Lord.”

4th. Trusting that, as a people, we are not altogether inattentive to what has been described, let us learn, in conclusion, the value we should attach to the blessing of our characteristic and national Christianity. We do not mean, the forms or peculiarities of any church;—the secondary distinctions, that may have their importance, as the separate testimonies to a particular truth prominently held by different members of the Protestant family. We refer to our evangelical Protestantism itself, which is substantially the same throughout our many sects, and which is held and taught, with more or less clearness, by all the influential Denominations in the land. To this, under God, we owe our free political constitution, our civil rights, and our religious liberty; to this we are indebted for the power we are at present exercising and using in the face of the world,—the power of throwing our metropolis open to the nations,—receiving them all, without passports, and with hardly a precaution, to our streets and squares, our court and senate, our families and our homes. We have no fear that our soldiers will be corrupted, or our population seduced;—we apprehend nothing of injury to our faith, or of temptation to our loyalty. Our press will be as free, our minds as unfettered, our comments on men and measures as outspoken, as if none were our daily audience but ourselves. To impress the moral of all this on the mind of the reader, and on our own, we might do it, perhaps, most effectively, by putting it in the form of a friendly address to a reflective foreigner, who might be looking with wonder on the phenomena around him. “Stranger,” we might say, “you have looked with surprise on our industry and commerce, our trade and manufactures; you have seen in our equipages the signs of our wealth; and, in other ways, how opulence and comfort are diffused among our people; you have been impressed with the many proofs of our intelligence, and have wondered, perhaps, most of all, at the liberty we enjoy and the loyalty we cherish. You have seen A QUEEN honoured and beloved;—and her Royal Consort taking the lead, not in reviews of military pomp, or only in the parade of magnificent hospitalities; but in presiding over the displays of peaceful industry, and welcoming the representatives of science and art. You have seen the multitudes that crowd to our churches, and wondered at the comparative quiet of our sabbaths. Know, therefore, that for all this, and for far more that is unseen, we are indebted to the glorious inheritance of our faith;—our open Bible, our conscientious inquiry, our habits of worship, and our religious instructors. We have much amongst us of which it becomes us to think with shame;—much of which it is impossible to speak but in moderated phrase, and even with tears;—but if there is anything that has raised thy admiration, or inflamed thy curiosity,—anything in our general reverence for law, in our political moderation, our civil order,—our respect for rank, combined with our individual consciousness of personal manhood; if there is anything that shows that our morals are not debased, or our manners frivolous, or our habits sordid, or our minds enslaved by the gross and the voluptuous,—carry away with thee the certainty and conviction, that everything that may be good about us as a people, we owe to our possession of that one Book,—to our mode of interpreting, and our constancy in teaching it,—which tells us to acknowledge,—and, by God’s blessing, helps us to act, however imperfectly, on the practical belief,—that despotism and priestcraft, anarchy and disorder, pride and oppression, vanity and selfishness, lawlessness and wrong, are all alike disobedience to God and injurious to his creatures, for ‘the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein.’”

POSTSCRIPT.

The first of May, eighteen hundred and fifty-one, was a day to be remembered to all time! On it the nations of the earth combined together to “make history,” in a manner they had never done before;—in one also, which, in its prominent peculiarity, can never be repeated. There may be similar Exhibitions in future periods of the world’s progress, but the first can never be again. Even respecting those which may be imagined to occur, although they may be distinguished by new features and characteristics of their own, and though these may, in some respects, surpass those of the one now opened, they cannot be anticipated with that depth of interest, nor excite by their inauguration those profound emotions, which preceded and distinguished the sublime event which has just taken place. The preceding pages were written in the prospect of that event, and were intended to appear before its occurrence. The author cannot regret, however, that circumstances interfered with the fulfilment of his purpose, since to this he is indebted for the opportunity of adding a supplementary section to his little work, commemorative of the grand and magnificent ceremonial of which he was privileged to be a spectator.

It is not the writer’s intention to attempt to describe the opening of the Exhibition, with all that minuteness of detail in respect to what occurred in the interior of the structure,—or with those stirring delineations of the bustle and excitement, the lines of carriages and congregated crowds, that imparted animation to the scene without,—which have already been furnished by the public prints. He merely wishes to note a few things which were interesting or suggestive to his own mind, and especially such as were felt to be in harmony with the spirit and object of the present volume.

It was his good fortune to obtain admittance into the Palace of Industry, on the memorable morning of the first of May, before the gates were opened to the public. He had traversed it frequently during the previous weeks, and had seen it in various stages of its progress. One morning, in March, he was there so early, that while walking along its galleries he observed that he was the only visitor upon them at that moment. Few of the counters were then erected, hardly any of the articles unpacked;—the wide spaces and vast dimensions of the wonderful structure spread before him in clear and unobstructed perspective;—there was something, too, of solitariness in his position, though multitudes of workmen were occupied below, above, and around him;—the whole scene, from its simple magnitude, was inexpressibly sublime; it stirred within him thoughts and feelings which were not, indeed, “too deep for tears,” but which could only find utterance and relief in their indulgence; while, as he passed on, and for the first time saw the compartments of the different countries, and read the names of the various nations that were preparing to stand, side by side, in peaceful rivalry,—his emotions deepened to an intensity which it was difficult to bear, and which cannot be described! He was in the building, also, for some time, three days before the opening, and could then form some idea of what would be the number and variety of its contents; though so much, even at that late period, remained to be done, that he wondered how it would be possible for the preparations to be finished by the time appointed. As, however, he walked into the transept, when that time had come,—approached the centre,—and looked along the naves stretching to such an extent on either side,—it was not without a feeling of admiration and surprise, mingled with something of solemnity and awe, that he looked on the splendid and gorgeous spectacle that stood revealed in all its completeness!

The mere material scene was sublime when beheld by itself,—empty, and comparatively still; but much more impressive and affecting was it, when filled with its immense multitude of spectators. There was much that was stirring in the sight of the rush and inundation of the crowd, as it kept flowing in, in vast waves, at every opening; and much that was impressive when the noise and murmur of its movements had subsided,—when all had found or had been forced into their places,—and when floor and gallery, and every part that the eye could reach, was seen to be occupied by human beings,—by an assembly larger than any that had ever, in England, been congregated before under one roof,—and by one that had met for an object, and under circumstances, unparalleled in the annals of the world!

Men see in all external events and objects, what the light that is in them reveals. Things are, to us, what we are to them. He that visits foreign countries, brings back according to what he takes. The same sight may be a very different thing to two different persons, in proportion as they may differ in knowledge, in opinion, in taste, in sympathies. The eye of a clown may look on a prospect that in some souls would produce rapture or occasion tears, with hardly more intelligence than that of the ox that he drives before him. The outside of things is open to all; their inner significance is revealed only to those who have an inner eye to read it; and even such significance may be differently interpreted according as the eye is influenced and affected by the degree of intelligence, the tendencies, and the tastes of the inward man to whom it belongs. It is quite possible that some may see nothing in the great Exhibition but an ordinary, though enormous, fancy bazaar; and that others saw nothing in the ceremonial of the opening but a state pageant, court dresses, and an immense crowd of men and women! It is quite possible, too, that some of the incidents of the day, which appeared to us touching in themselves, or pregnant with meaning, were indebted for this to the capricious activity of our own fancy, as well as to their inherent beauty or significance. But, however this may have been, there certainly were some things that we felt to be deeply interesting as they occurred, and remarkably suggestive as illustrating the character and tendencies of the event. We shall not attempt to recall all that struck us at the time; but a few words may not be amiss on what immediately bore, or appeared to us to bear, on some of the topics of this book.

On getting a sight of the catalogue of the Exhibition,—which we did before entering the interior of the building,—we were gratified to find on the cover and the title-page:

We were aware that this was to be the English motto, and that two Latin ones had also been selected. We were glad to find the Divine sentence placed where it was, and placed by itself; that it stood, as it were, in front of the Nations as they joined one another, and moved towards the great point of attraction; that it faced them, and spoke as with the voice of an oracle; that while the words of men occupied their proper subordinate position behind those of the book of God—out of sight—needing, as it were, to be sought for, and found, and solicited to announce themselves,—these stood in their solitary majesty, revealing themselves by their own light, claiming to speak as having a right to be heard, and authoritatively announcing to the diversified tribes and peoples of the earth, and to every visitant of the palace of wonders, Whose they themselves were, and to whom belonged all they saw.

This volume was written and in the press before we were aware that the inscription on the Exchange was to be the motto of the Exhibition; otherwise, the natural course would have been, to have taken the words in their latter use rather than the former, and thus to have expounded and illustrated what England actually does say to herself and the nations through the medium of the event which is bringing them together. When we first heard of what was to be the English motto of the catalogue, we were exceedingly disposed to wish it could be given in the words of the authorized version (those on the Exchange) “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof,” instead of those of the translation in the Prayer-book, “The earth is the Lord’s, and all that therein is.” On further reflection, however, we are willing to think, that while the two expressions are substantially the same, there is just that shade of difference between them that fits each for its respective position; “the fulness of the earth” being most appropriate to a commercial edifice,—“all that therein is” to an industrial exhibition. However this may be, it was to us, as may be supposed, a gratifying circumstance that the first sight that met our eye, on the very threshold, or in the porch of the Palace of Industry, while making our way to the opening ceremonial, was that which assured us, that the words whose import we had been endeavouring to illustrate in “a book for the Exhibition,” were to lie beneath the eye, and to address themselves to the reason and the religious consciousness, of every individual by whom it would be visited.

The recognition of God, in connexion with the Exhibition, has always marked the references to it of its most distinguished promoter. The religious services on the day of the opening were solemn and appropriate, and seemed at once to crown and sanctify the work. “I confidently hope,”—said his Royal Highness, Prince Albert, at the banquet at the Mansion-house, in honour of the undertaking,—“I confidently hope, that the first impression which the view of this vast collection will produce upon the spectator, will be that of deep thankfulness to the Almighty for the blessings which he has bestowed upon us here below.” It was a most impressive sight, on the opening of the splendid spectacle thus anticipated, to see some twenty-five or thirty thousand people, all under the influence of a sentiment of reverence, deeply calm, serious, and still, uniting in an act of solemn devotion, while the highest ecclesiastical dignitary in the land, standing by the side of our august sovereign, who seemed to bow in humility before the footstool of Him who is “the King of kings,” expressed in a manner the most appropriate, the “deep thankfulness” of the vast assembly “for the blessings which the Almighty has bestowed upon us,” and acknowledged Him in the riches of nature and the wonders of art with which the edifice was filled! Every reader will probably have seen the prayer to which we thus refer. It seems, however, not inappropriate to give it a place in these pages; the more so as its sentiments are so in harmony with many of those we have been attempting to express. It was as follows:

“Almighty and everlasting God, who dost govern all things both in heaven and in earth, without whom nothing is strong, nothing is holy, accept, we beseech Thee, the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, and receive these our prayers which we offer up unto Thee this day on behalf of the kingdom and people of this land. We acknowledge, O Lord, that Thou hast multiplied on us blessings which Thou mightest most justly have withheld. We acknowledge that it is not because of works of righteousness which we have done, but of Thy great mercy, that we are permitted to come before Thee with the voice of thanksgiving, and that instead of humbling us for our offences, Thou hast given us cause to thank Thee for Thine abundant goodness. And now, O Lord, we beseech Thee to bless the work which Thou hast enabled us to begin, and to regard with Thy favour our purpose of knitting together in the bonds of peace and concord the different nations of the earth; for with Thee, O Lord, is the preparation of the heart in man. Of Thee it cometh that violence is not heard in our land, wasting nor destruction within its borders. It is of Thee, O Lord, that nations do not lift up the sword against each other nor learn war any more; it is of Thee that peace is within our walls and plenteousness within our palaces; it is of Thee that knowledge is increased throughout the world, for the spirit of man is from Thee, and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth him understanding. Therefore, O Lord, not unto us, not unto us, but unto Thy name be all the praise. While we survey the works of art and industry which surround us, let not our hearts be lifted up that we forget the Lord our God, as if our own power and the might of our hands had gotten in this wealth. Teach us ever to remember that all this store which we have prepared cometh of Thine hand and is all Thine own. Both riches and honour come of Thee, and thou reignest over all. In Thine hand it is to make great and to give strength unto all. Now, therefore, O God, we thank Thee; we praise Thee and intreat Thee so to overrule this assembly of many nations, that it may tend to the advancement of Thy glory, to the diffusion of Thy Holy Word, to the increase of general prosperity, by promoting peace and goodwill among the different races of mankind. Let the many mercies which we receive from Thee dispose our hearts to serve Thee more faithfully, who art the Author and Giver of them all. And finally, O Lord, teach us so to use those earthly blessings which Thou givest us richly to enjoy, that they may not withdraw our affections from those heavenly things which Thou hast prepared for those that love and serve Thee, through the merits and mediation of Thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with Thee and the Holy Ghost, be all honour and glory.”

Prince Albert, after having, in the words above quoted, expressed his hope respecting the religious impression to be produced by the Exhibition, proceeded to say that he trusted its second lesson would be, “the conviction” that the full enjoyment of the blessings of Providence “could be realized only in proportion to the help we are prepared to render to each other; therefore only by peace, love, and ready assistance, not only between individuals, but between the Nations of the earth.” The opening ceremonial of the first of May, was an impressive commentary on this sentiment. Within the same building were congregated the representatives of many nations, and people from every quarter of the globe. All met and mingled together in perfect harmony, and seemed at once disposed to regard each other with fraternal cordiality, and to be pervaded and possessed by those sentiments which are nourished and developed by the sunlight of love. Everybody seemed bright; good-humoured; happy; willing to please and to be pleased! It was as if all the world had met to celebrate the arrival or reign of universal concord. The Palace of Industry was the Temple of Peace. There were some military uniforms, and a few soldiers here and there, but no one thought of fighting! It was not a battle,—it was not even a review. It was not War when merely making a holiday; showing himself off in his fine clothes to a gaping multitude, and startling or amusing them by his gigantic sport. A little boy—a child of some five or six years old—while we were all waiting for the coming of the Queen, got away from his mother, or sister, ran into the midst of the central crowd of dignitaries and diplomatists, walked up the steps of the platform on which was the chair of state, turned round and stood looking about happy and delighted, and then went back again to the cover of the wing from which he had escaped! The whole thing showed such a sense of security,—such a feeling in the boy that there was nothing to frighten him or to hurt him there,—that he appeared like an impersonation of the spirit of the place. He could not have done or felt as he did in any assembly of thirty thousand people that ever met in the world before within the same walls. Such assemblages there have been, and larger,—but they met for purposes of cruelty and blood,—to see men fight with beasts or with each other. In the Crystal Palace is mirrored, we trust, the dawn at least of the predicted day, when “the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; AND A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM.”

Then there was to be seen for some time in apparently friendly conversation, the Iron Duke and the Lancashire cotton-spinner;—Wellington and Cobden;—the man of war and the apostle of peace! It was a suggestive sight. The old soldier did a great and necessary work in his day. By his decisive stroke at the battle of Waterloo, he terminated the protracted contentions of Europe, and gave to us, as a nation, a peace that has continued for thirty-five years. To that prolonged peace, we are in a great measure indebted for the Exhibition of Industry. It would not have been improper, therefore, if, while looking on the scene he had lived to witness,—a scene that glorified his own eighty-second birthday, and which was so different from all that he had been familiar with in his youth,—it would not have been improper if the military veteran had felt that there was a connexion between what he saw and what he had done. Than he, we believe, there is no one more aware of the horrors of war, or who would more bitterly lament its necessity;—and though he can hardly be expected to think Peace Societies the sole or best defence of a nation, it is not to be doubted that he would welcome “permanent and universal peace,” and that he rejoices in an enterprise that may help to secure it. There they were, then,—two representative and typical men;—side by side;—talking like brothers! There they were;—the one the monument of a past age,—the other the personal prophecy of a coming one. The one the chronicle of bygone times, when nations thought themselves “natural enemies,” and men knew of no arbiter but the sword;—the other the advocate of another arbitration, and the apostle of the industrial intercourse of the world. The one was old,—the other young. Let us hope that this, too, was a type of the principles they respectively represented;—that that of appealing and trusting to the sword, is past its vigour and is falling into decay,—while that of uniting by mutual benefits, and of superseding the arguments of brute force by those of reason and love, is in its prime and manhood, and has before it a long period of service. There are a few specimens of cannon in the Exhibition, but there are far more of agricultural instruments. The time will come when none of the former will find their place in any collection of the works of “Industry,”—except, it may be, some that shall be preserved as curious, though sad and humiliating, relics of a former age. “Weapons of war” are destined to disappear, and to give place to the engine and the compass,—the press and the tool-chest,—the plough and the pruning-hook!

The incidents thus referred to, were felt to be suggestive of many thoughts in harmony with the sentiment last quoted from the speech of Prince Albert. That sentiment, however, received ampler illustration by what was seen on the reading of the address of the Commissioners to her Majesty,—by the closing language of that address itself,—and by her Majesty’s reply. The procession that approached the throne for the presentation of the address, consisted not only of Englishmen headed by the Consort of the Sovereign, but of the foreign representatives of twenty-six different nations, states, or kingdoms. These, for the time, were all ONE;—one body,—filled with one sentiment, pervaded, as it were, by one soul;—and they all united in uttering through their common head, in the name of their several countries, and in the presence of a multitude almost as mixed and multifarious as themselves, the following words:—

“It is our heartfelt prayer that this undertaking, which has for its end the promotion of all branches of human industry, and the strengthening of the bonds of peace and friendship AMONG ALL NATIONS OF THE EARTH, may, by the blessing of Divine Providence, conduce to the welfare of your Majesty’s people, and be long remembered among the brightest circumstances of your Majesty’s peaceful and happy reign.”

It was a great thing to see the representatives of Austria and Denmark, France and Belgium, Prussia and Germany, Russia and Rome, Spain and Portugal, Turkey and Tuscany, the United States, Tunis, Sardinia, Greece, and of many other lands, joining together in the expression of a common hope, and the utterance of a united prayer, that what they were doing might “strengthen the bonds of peace and friendship among all the nations of the earth;” and to think, too, that they did this, not only in their own names, and in those of their respective countries, but in the name of all lands and peoples in the world that might have any contribution in the Exhibition, whether they had personal representatives among the Commissioners or not. The closing paragraph of her Majesty’s reply echoed the closing sentiment of the address,—a sentiment that came to her like an utterance from the heart of universal humanity! It was an over-powering sight, by the way,—that of one so young, elevated in the midst of so vast a multitude, and virtually receiving the homage of so many nations:

Although the closing passage in her Majesty’s speech is that to which we confine our attention, as the speech itself is very brief, we give it entire:

“I receive with the greatest satisfaction the address which you have presented to me on the opening of this Exhibition.

“I have observed with a warm and increasing interest the progress of your proceedings in the execution of the duties intrusted to you by the Royal Commission; and it affords me sincere gratification to witness the successful result of your judicious and unremitting exertions in THE SPLENDID SPECTACLE by which I am this day surrounded.

“I cordially concur with you in the prayer, that by God’s blessing this undertaking may conduce to the welfare of my people, and to the common interests of the human race, by encouraging the arts of peace and industry, strengthening the bonds of union among the nations of the earth, and promoting a friendly and honourable rivalry in the useful exercise of those faculties which have been conferred by a beneficent Providence for the good and the happiness of mankind.”

But we must draw to a close. There were many other incidents on which we could willingly linger, as illustrative of the views we had always indulged of the character and tendencies of the great experiment. The union in one edifice of such an unprecedented number of human beings, was itself a most imposing and magnificent spectacle. The Queen appeared to feel this. As she stood in a position to command a view of the vast spaces of the building, all of which were densely filled, she seemed impressed with a sense of awe at the sublime spectacle, and could not help, even during the reading of the address of the Commissioners, partially withdrawing her attention from them, to steal a glance at “the splendid spectacle by which she was surrounded.” That spectacle, however, partook of the tender, the beautiful, and the domestic even, as well as the sublime. Into it, the Queen and her illustrious Consort came, each leading by the hand one of their children! Up and down, through and amongst that mass of people, they moved together in the same manner. Pomp and state were in some degree laid aside, and the sovereign, for the time, seemed to have become one with the people. She was received with affection, as well as loyalty; and appeared to enjoy and to acknowledge her reception, not so much as a crowned Queen, as a happy woman, an elated wife, and a loving mother! It must have been the most wonderful hour in the whole life of Prince Albert,—that hour of the opening of the Exhibition!—intense must have been the feelings with which he looked on the realization of his great idea; the end of so much anxiety; the commencement of the harvest of so much hope! Everything was propitious. The sun in the heavens shone down upon the scene with unwonted brightness, as if He who “sits in the centre” thereof, approved the undertaking and blessed it from on high. There was not an accident of any sort,—nothing for one moment to excite alarm, to produce panic, or occasion apprehension in the mind of the assembly. In spite of the tens of thousands that filled it, in no part of the edifice was there crack or strain, the indication of weakness, or any sign of insecurity. The outdoor crowds, instead of being disposed to rudeness or riot, or capable of being excited to tumult and rebellion (!), would seem to have been more than usually pacific; a sort of restraint appears to have been upon the worst even of those who congregate on such occasions; for, on the following day, there were no cases of either quarrels or robberies such as ordinarily attend state pageants and civic processions. The royal Patrons of peace and industry retired from the scene in which they had developed a new phase of royalty, and read a new lesson to kings, amid the benedictions and prayers of the multitude with whom they had met and mingled. They could not but retire happy and glad; grateful to God for what they had witnessed, and what they had done; and, in the fulness of their emotions of devout thankfulness, like David, perhaps, “returned home to bless their household.” As it is not likely that anything will occasion a greater gathering of the populace in the parks, in connexion with the Exhibition, and as the ceremony of the opening has given such a glow of cheerfulness and confidence to the public mind, it is to be hoped that the many prophecies and prognostications of evil, which some have indulged in, will now cease, and that all will unite, by cordial sympathy with the great object, and fervent prayer to Almighty God, to seek the realization of those peaceful, patriotic, and world-wide results, which many of the wise and good hope that “the Great Exhibition” may be an instrument in the hand of Providence to secure, and which as Englishmen, Christians, and lovers of our kind, we ought all constantly and earnestly to pursue. In this way, every devout man may help to hasten that anticipated FUTURE, some of the general characteristics of which we have endeavoured to deduce from the Scriptural motto on the books of the Exhibition. Of that period a pregnant and impressive type was presented in the opening ceremonial, when, in the bearing of all the nations of the earth, representatively present in the spacious edifice, there rose up,—to the praise and glory of that God, “whose is the earth and the fulness thereof, the world and they that dwell therein,” and to whom we are indebted not only for “all the blessings of this life,” but for “the means of grace, and the hope of glory,”—the grand, solemn, prophetic song,—

With the following stanzas, descriptive of the different parts of the scene thus reviewed, we here close our pleasant labour:

London: Printed by William Tyler, Bolt-Court.