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thought, perhaps, he departed for a season, that thou shouldst receive him for ever;" as if he had said, "Thou didst lose a slave, Philemon, but thou hast won a brother, a brother in Christ. And thus a relation is formed between thee and him, that is endearing and eternal." But, in all this, the blame-worthiness of Onesimus remains admitted; if he obtains from his master a favourable reception, let him be indebted for it wholly to that master's christian forbearance, and to Paul's generous advocacy.

And in all this there is a valuable lesson taught us. Is it not evident from Paul's conduct, on this occasion, that he held it as a great principle in evangelical morals, that reparation for the injuries we have inflicted, is indispensible as an evidence of contrition. Was it not enough, it may be asked, that Onesimus should have shown, by ingenuous confessions, by his sighs and tears, such poignant regret? Was it not enough that he should have shown such blameless conduct,—such esteem and affection for the apostle in his bonds? No, all this was most gratifying, but it was not sufficient. Onesimus must return to Colosse, the very scene of his misconduct, and go to Philemon the very party whom he has offended, and there in the very scene of his crime he must make acknowledgment of it, and, throwing himself at the feet of his master, place himself at his mercy. Fain would Paul have retained him with him at Rome, because he 66 was his own bowels," and because he had kindly ministered to him in the bonds of the gospel; but every consideration of comfort and convenience must give way before this arrangement so salutary to the soul of Onesimus. And, besides, says Paul to Philemon," without thy mind would I do nothing."

But was it not sufficient to justify the flight of Onesimus from his master, that he had no right to retain him in slavery? And why then speak of reparation? A few sentences will set this point at rest. The charge against Onesimus, we have already seen, was most likely of a complicated nature. He was not only a fugitive, but a thief. Moreover, there is nothing in the epistle inconsistent with the suppo sition that, as happened not unfrequently, Onesimus was bound to Philemon by a voluntary act on his own part. But, even supposing him to have been born a slave in the house of Philemon, or to have been sold to him by others, the case is not materially altered. Christianity, no doubt, condemns slavery, and its principles have only to obtain universal currency in order to sweep the accursed thing from the earth; but then Onesimus did not know this, he had no conception whatever of the abstract sinfulness of slavery. On the other hand, in taking his flight from his master, he was doing violence to his own sense of duty, and, therefore, "to him it was sin." When these considerations are taken into view, it must be evident, we think, that l'aul acted in a manner worthy of his character, as an apostle, in sending Onesimus back to his master.

We now, then, suppose Onesimus arrived at Colosse, and we anxious-ly inquire how he was received? On this subject the inspired record is silent, and we are not disposed to speculate much beyond it. That the church was filled with wonder and praise at the conversion of such an outcast, we cannot doubt. Is this Onesimus? How many demons had once harboured in that unhappy bosom,-what stolid ignorance,—

what self-willed stubbornness; but now see how his countenance is lighted up with a new intelligence and peace,-hear how he magnifies the grace of God. That poor slave was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.

Nor can we doubt that they cheerfully welcomed him into their rauks as "a brother beloved." Was he not a brand plucked out of the burning? And "such were some of us." Oh, there would be no harsh allusions to the period of his shame; no cold suspicions; no pharisaic shrinking from him as less holy than they, they had too much of their heavenly Master's sublime charity for this. "What God had cleansed, they would not call common." Moreover, that Philemon not only granted Onesimus forgiveness, but freedom, we cannot reasonably doubt, after reading this epistle, in which Paul so earnestly pleads for the former, and even gently insinuates a hope that the latter shall not be withheld. It is even stated, in church history, that Onesimus rose at length to the honourable office of the ministry, a statement very much countenanced by the commendatory language of Paul; and, if such was the case, may we not believe, that having been forgiven much, he would love much, and that loving much, he would labour very abundantly.

We cannot conclude this meditation without reminding our readers of two lessons growing out of the whole of Onesimus' history.

1. Let us not despair of any sinner's conversion. Every thing in the condition of Onesimus, seemed unfavourable to the hope that he would ever obtain repentance to the acknowledgment of the truth. Dwelling under the roof of Philemon, he had resisted all the benefit of his kind master's christian example and instruction, and had even spoiled him of his goods. He had come to Rome where there were thousands to help him on in his career of degradation and crime. Surely, if his case was hopeless at Colosse, it was a thousand times more hopeless here. Yet here it is that he is "born again." And Onesimus is but one among many examples designed to teach us that earth is not a region where despair should ever enter.

We might summon a cloud of witnesses that have arisen, even since apostolic times, to testify to the exceeding abundance of the grace of God. An Earl of Rochester fleeing from the chair of the scorner to the arms of Jesus. A John Newton, the "African blasphemer," becoming the companion of Cowper, a writer of hymns, and one of the most successful preachers of the age. An Africaner once making the wilderness of Southern Africa tremble at the mention of his name, anon pleading with the savage children of the desert to exchange the spear for the pruning-hook, and sitting at the feet of Robert Moffat, clothed, and in his right mind!

2. Let no christian complain that he is unable to do any thing for the cause of Christ. What is this which Paul says of Onesimus, "Who in time past was to thee unprofitable, but now profitable both to thee and me." And this Onesimus had once been nothing more than a poor slave. But love, love to Jesus was burning in his bosom, and it had forced

"Having confidence in thy obedience, I wrote unto thee, knowing that thou wilt also do more than I say."

into action every power of his mind, and developed energies which no one imagined him to possess.

Have you, reader, fewer means of doing good than had Onesimus ? If not, you cannot be inactive and remain blameless. Oh, will not this converted slave rise up against multitudes of indolent professors, in the judgment, to condemn them?" What were candles made for," asks good Philip Henry, "but to burn. There will be time enough to rest

in the grave."

B. P.

THE NESTORIANS OF KOORDISTAN.

ARTICLE I.

THE Waldenses of Piedmont and Savoy, though a people few in number, humble in condition, and limited in resources, have, for centuries past, attracted the admiration and engaged the sympathies of every Protestant community in Europe. The history of their wrongs,-of the lawless oppressions which pursued them into the fastnesses of their sequestered glens, and expelled them from their homes,-and of their firm attachment to evangelical principles, even in the darkest times, in opposition to prevailing error, and in spite of all that plunder, famine, torture, and death could do, to drive them from their adherence to their ancient faith, has been felt to possess all the characters of a tragic drama, but of a drama bearing the impress of truth. By whomsoever the stirring narrative of their persecutions has been read, if he had but a heart to feel for injured worth, and appreciate what is exalted and noble in human conduct,―the fortitude with which they bore their sufferings, the stedfastness which led them to prefer exile and confiscation to the favours tendered to them, as the conditional rewards of perfidy, have drawn from him the acknowledgment, that they deserve to be classed among those ancient witnesses for the truth in evil times, "of whom the world was not worthy,-who wandered in dens and in mountains,-in deserts and in caves of the earth,-being destitute, afflicted, tormented.”

Inclosed among the almost inaccessible mountains of Koordistan,hemmed in by barbarous and lawless tribes, and surrounded on every hand by the followers of Islamism, are to be found at this day a small but venerable remnant of the ancient and once influential sect of the Nestorians; a remnant whose history and condition present, in not a few particulars, a striking analogy to those of the Vaudois of the Alps. They are, indeed, the Waldenses of the east. Though furnishing less decided evidence of vital piety, and occupying perhaps a lower place in the scale of civilization than do the inhabitants of the valleys of Piedmont, they resemble them in these prominent features;— their possession of the faith of Christianity from the earliest times, in comparative purity, even amidst prevailing apostacy and error; their successive defiance of all the efforts which have been made to detach them from their creed; and their heroic endurance of the sufferings to which they have often been subjected on account of their religious profession; while in their efforts to carry the triumphs of the gospel far into the

east, continued throughout the whole of the period which stretched from the seventh to the fourteenth century,-the very time when the churches of the west were slumbering amid Papal superstition and debasement, they exhibited a fervour and activity of missionary zeal to which neither the Waldenses nor any other section of the church presents a parallel.

To this interesting people, long lost sight of by the Christians of the west, the missionary labours of our American brethren have of late directed general attention. Information has been supplied respecting them in the communications which have appeared from the missionaries stationed at Ooroomiah by the American board; and especially in the recent work of Dr Grant, who explored their territory, and resided amongst them for a considerable period. The bloody tragedies of which their country has, within the last few months, been the scene, lend an additional interest to every thing relating to these ill-fated mountaineers, and give them a strong claim upon the sympathy and prayers of Christians. We propose, with the view of inviting the attention of our churches to the subject, to present a few details, chiefly drawn from the sources now mentioned, illustrative of the past history and the present condition of the Nestorians. In performing this task, we feel that we are but enforcing a recommendation agreed to by the Synod of our church at its last meeting, at which special prayer was offered at the throne of grace in behalf of this suffering people, and they were affectionately commended to the intercessions and the sympathies of the whole church.

The sect of the Nestorians, of which these mountaineers are the only remnant, is the most ancient christian sect now existing. It took its rise in the fifth century. Nestorius, from whom it derived its name, was a native of Syria, and was made bishop of Constantinople, A.D. 428. Having warmly opposed the Appollinarian heresy, which lost sight of the distinction between the divine and human natures of Christ, and represented his divinity as occupying the place and performing the functions of a human soul, and having espoused the views of those who, maintaining that the divine nature of Christ was not confounded nor blended with his humanity, scrupled to apply to the Virgin Mary the epithet of Mother of God (EOTOKOS), he provoked the jealousy and opposition of the ambitious and turbulent Cyril, bishop of Alexandria, at whose instigation he was arraigned for heresy. It is not, perhaps, to be questioned, that Nestorius was chargeable with speculating too bidly upon these mysterious themes, in regard to which the human mind must be content to know the fact as revealed by inspiration, without inquiring as to the manner of the fact. Still, for ought that appears, there is reason for believing that his views were correct in the main and the motive by which he seems to have been actuated was entitled to the highest commendation,-a wish, namely, to check the growing superstition of the age, and to prevent idolatrous homage from being offered to a departed mortal. The truth is, he did not even plead guilty to the charge of being unwilling to apply the above title to the Virgin, if it was properly understood. He said, "I have often declared that, if one more simple among you, or any others, is pleased with this word, I have no objection to it, so be that he make not the Virgin

God." And with reference to the other charge which was brought against him, of holding that there were not only two natures, but two persons in Christ, (though even this language might possibly have been used in a sense which would not have implied any serious heresy), he distinctly denied it: and he continued to do so to the end of his life. To Cyril, his enemy, he wrote thus:-"I approve that you preach a distinction of natures in respect to the divinity and humanity, and a conjunction of them in one person." And to another prelate he said, “of the two natures there is one authority, one virtue, one power, and one person, according to one dignity." The opportunity, however, for humbling the occupant of the see of Constantinople which had begun to eclipse its sister patriarchates was too good to be lost; and, accordingly, insufficient as were the grounds for proceeding against him, he was, through the influence of Cyril, condemned by an ex parte council without being heard in his defence, excommunicated, hurled from the patriarchal throne of Constantinople, and banished to Arabia Petræa ; whence, after a four years' residence near Antioch, he was transported to one of the Oases of Libya, and died in Upper Egypt. It is instructive to look back upon the subtle and metaphysical distinctions on which the ecclesiastical censures of that age were grounded; and not less melancholy to discover that the unhappy contests which disturbed the church at that early period of its history, and led to the most calamitous consequences, rather proceeded from motives of jealousy and ambition, than a sincere and disinterested regard for the truth." Many, nay the greatest part of writers, both ancient and modern," says Mosheim, "after a thorough examination of this matter, have positively concluded that the opinions of Nestorius, and of the council which condemned them, were the same in effect; that their difference was in words only, and that the whole blame of this unhappy controversy was to be charged upon the turbulent spirit of Cyril, and his aversion to Nestorius."+

As might have been supposed, the excommunicated bishop of Constantinople was regarded by thousands as an injured man. The doctors of the church in Syria,-many of whom had, like him, been disciples of Theodorus of Mopsuestia (from whom Nestorius is supposed to have imbibed his opinions), participated generally in his views ; and after his condemnation openly declared their adherence to them. In the celebrated school of Edessa (the modern Orfa) in Mesopotamia, where many christian youths, belonging chiefly to Persia, were educated, the cause of Nestorius was warmly espoused, and every effort made to secure the extensive diffusion of the principles of the new sect, now separated from the general church. It spread rapidly in all directions, and multiplied its adherents by thousands. Before the close of the fifth century, about sixty years after the date of the Council of Ephesus, by which Nestorius was deposed and banished, it had become the dominant christian sect in Persia; and so numerous and influential were its adherents, that when the Episcopate of Seleucia became vacant,

* Assemanni Biblioth. Orient., quoted in Smith's Researches in Armenia, Vol. ii. +Ibid. For an account of the rise of Nestorianism, see Mosheim, Ch. Hist. Cent. v. Chap. v.

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