So speaks the Tempter. Power, mental and physical of a superior grade, ambition, determination, malice and incipient wrath, all are revealed in the strong lines of his pain-furrowed, fire-scathed countenance, and even in the firm and eager attitude with which he keeps his sliding footing on the shelving rock. The earnestness of his purpose starts forth from every fold and ridge of his muscles strained to utmost tension, and in the clutching of his bony hands. He bears himself as if resolved on victory while already half conscious of defeat; for his utter discomfiture is written as distinctly in the silent majesty of the Redeemer as if the last emphatic denial had been already spoken from those guileless lips.

The figure of Jesus is one of the master-strokes of purest idealization. He stands on the very apex of the mountain, a step or two higher than his companion, with hand upraised to the calm heavens as if conscious of the nearness of some seraphform or a convoy of them just outside the line of vision. The facial expression is full of serenest contentment with his present lot. It is most evident that no flame of earthy ambition can be enkindled in that bosom by all the rich-sounding names which the wily plotter can pour 'upon him, —

"From Arachosia, from Candaor east,
And Margiana, to the Hyrcanian cliffs
Of Caucasus, and dark Iberian dales;
From Atropatia, and the neighboring plains.

Of Adiabene, Media, and the south

Of Susiana, to Balsara's haven."

Equally impervious is his breast to "the pomp and circumstance of glorious war," although in the distance he might have seen

"The field all iron cast a gleaming brown:

Nor wanted clouds of foot, nor on each horn
Cuirassiers all in steel for standing fight,
Chariots or elephants indors'd with towers
Of archers, nor of laboring pioneers

A multitude;

light armed troops

In coats of mail and military pride;

In mail their horses clad, yet fleet and strong,
Prancing their riders bore, the flower and choice
Of many provinces from bound to bound."

He can be attracted by nothing of this. The idea of individual, sustained power, of self-centred mastery of every outside aggressive or seductive influence the proper supremacy of his nature and will over Satan and his entire resources of evil-stands out in life-like vigor from the canvas. Yet it is not a Gabriel or a Michael who thus foils his brother angel apostate. He is one of us, a thoroughly human brother of our race who is thus defeating the common adversary; a fellowspirit winning a human, albeit a divine victory also in the flesh over the powers of spiritual revolt. Just here we realize that He was in all things tempted like unto his brethren, yet without sin. Just now we know that, in a moment, those calm eyes will frown upon the Arch-Liar, and that a soft, slow, mournful accent will paralyze his soul

"Get thee behind me; plain thou now appear'st
That evil one, Satan forever damn'd!"

Hardly could any subject give finer scope for that play of contrast of which the painters have been so fond of availing themselves, in the combinations of Vulcan and Venus, and other classical myths; the biblical studies of the mother and child, the aged Joseph and the rugged John Baptist and other hermit-saints of the Holy Families, and the Madonna pictures. The same favorite device is found in the Dante and Beatrice. But in the Temptation, it is not the contrasted beauty or power of manly strength with feminine or infant loveliness; not the delicate opposition of the two latter styles of gracefulness, as in the Mary and Jesus of Raphael and Corregio and a host of the old masters. A higher conception pervades this canvas, of the contrary natures and histories and destinies of beings celestial and infernal, clearly imaged in the bold contrasts of the physical forms before us. Two kingdoms here are suspended in the balance that vibrates on its beam, but with no uncertainty how it will give answer. Keble's sweet verses interpret

the thought.

"See Lucifer like lightning fall,

Dash'd from his throne of pride;

While answering Thy victorious call,
The Saints his spoils divide;

This world of Thine, by him usurp'd too long,
Now opening all her stores to heal Thy servant's wrong.

O Lord, our Lord, and spoiler of our foes,

There is no light but Thine: with Thee all beauty glows."

ARTICLE III.

THE THEOLOGY OF PLYMOUTH PULPIT.

[Concluded.]

So far as relates to the means of a just conclusion, our inquiry might rest at the point already reached. Baron Cuvier could demonstrate the mastodon from a small number of the bones. In like manner, from the declaration of Plymouth Pulpit on "man" and his "aspiration," "the cross of Christ,” and “doctrine," we should proceed, without the slightest fear of mistake, to construct "Beecher's Institutes." For Henry Ward Beecher has a creed, be it known, notwithstanding he is so much disturbed that his neighbors should presume to have creeds. All his "Five Points are there. He believes things, and that with his whole heart and soul; albeit he is at so much pains to declare that it is not necessary for other people to believe, but, on the whole, rather a presumptuous and foolish state of mind on their part to do so. Moreover, he preaches his doctrines with a frequency and an earnestness which no Puritan ever surpassed; repeating and reaffirming them, with a copiousness of illustration and an emphasis of manner which are quite exhaustive. The character of God, the character of man, the atonement of Christ, the Bible, the Sabbath, on these and other related points, Mr. Beecher preaches his doctrine with a diligence and enthusiasm which are most exemplary. This is not changed by the fact that what he preaches is never Puritanic,— that, in his doctrinal preaching, he makes incessant and bitter war upon Puritan and Calvinist.

It is not our intention, however, to complete "Beecher's In

stitutes by way of inference. He shall still be permitted to speak for himself, and we will still be listeners. We shall detect no faltering and no turning back. With the exception of an occasional confusion of logic and cloudiness of words, he is singularly consistent with himself. The profound and philosophic Genevan was hardly more so. We beg our readers to note this. We affirm that Henry Ward Beecher is singularly consistent with himself as a Theologian, that he is not in the habit of saying a thing at one time and unsaying it at another. On the contrary, he reaffirms and reiterates his positions with the earnestness of a man who has thought out his conclusions and committed himself to them "for better, for worse." We claim that ours is a perfectly fair piece of criticism of a man whom it is perfectly fair to criticise; and if anybody thinks he can, with equal fairness, or, indeed, in any wise, make out opposite conclusions from these or any other published discourses of Mr. Beecher's, we have only to say, let him try.

Should it excite our surprise, after what we have heard, to find Plymouth Pulpit warring with its might against the Church, considered as a Divine institution, the guardian and conservator of Christian doctrine, court of discipline, temple of God's special indwelling, and appointed channel through which the blessings of his grace flow down from age to age? Why should he not claim for the world an equal place, not only in the paternal benignity of God, but in his administration of mercy and love? Nay, we will stand up for him and insist that he is only consistent with himself and his "doctrine," when he boldly asserts that, in relation to some things of vast importance to mankind, and where the Bible had furnished, for long ages, only darkness and confusion, there has sprung up at length, outside of the Bible, and outside of the Church, and all in spite of both, a light and a power Divine, which has made luminous and resplendent the dark page of the written Word, and cast out of the Church the evil spirit of ignorance and barbarism and imposture. It conflicts with no past deliverance of his when he proclaims that this power and light from without shall yet bring a jubilee to the nations, of freedom and purity and joy, which Judaism and Christianity have failed alike to introduce. Whether Mr. Beecher has actually given utterance to senti

ments so directly opposed to the Scriptures, and so entirely in harmony with himself, our readers shall judge. We put in testimony out of his own mouth, as follows:

"As God, in reference to Christian communities, has a diverse administration, suited to the varied condition of the individuals composing them, so I believe that in reference to all races, all tribes, and all nations, while He regards them differently, He has an administration that includes them all. I believe that He is alike kind to all, administering according to the same beneficence to all, only it is a beneficence that, in its instruments and intents, is graded to their peculiar want and their special condition. ... We know nothing but this: that God is the universal Father, that the field is the world,' that the race is God's family, and that he is carrying on an administration which, though it varies from our experience, has an efficacy and a relation of some sort, which we shall have revealed to us by and by. ... . There is infinite wisdom and love and kindness administered toward the races that are not surrounded by the light of civilization, or illumined by the rays of Christianity, by which we are surrounded and illumined. I should worship with less fervor, if I thought that a mother weeping for her lost child in India, had no sympathy of God, who knows her, though she sees him not. Do you suppose a heart with aspirations and longings in that benighted land has no God that broods over it with sympathetic tenderness? Do you suppose that God's fostering care is withdrawn from every man that does not believe in the Thirty-nine Articles, and the Five Points of Calvinism?" (Sermon in the Independent of Oct. 11, 1860, on the text, "The field is the world.")

Unless this abolishes all ultimate distinction between the Church and the world, Christendom and the heathen nations, those who have the Bible and those who have it not, will anybody tell us what it means? What is the value, in Mr. Beecher's estimation, of the "infinite wisdom and love and kindness, administered toward the races that are not surrounded by the light of civilization, or illumined by the rays of Christianity, by which we are surrounded and illumined," if all this is to terminate with the present brief existence, leaving eternity uncheered by a solitary beam of light or hope? Or that sympathy of God for the Indian mother, weeping for her dead child, unless the doctrine of universalism be what he is driving at, we