one who peruses the New Testament in a right spirit must feel that it has emanated from the Searcher of hearts.  It speaks to the conscience; it has all the simplicity and majesty of a divine communication; it enlightens the understanding; and it converts the soul.  No mere man could have invented such a character as the Saviour it reveals; no mere man could have contrived such a system of mercy as that which it announces.  The New Testament is always on the side of whatsoever is just, and honest, and lovely, and of good report; it glorifies God; it alarms the sinner; it comforts the saint.  “The words of the Lord are pure words, as silver tried in a furnace of earth purified seven times.” [186:1]

The excellence of the New Testament is displayed to singular advantage when contrasted with those uninspired productions of nearly the same date which emanated from the companions of the apostles.  The only genuine document of this nature which has come down to us, and which appeared in the first century,[186:2] is an epistle to the Corinthians.  It was prepared immediately after the Domitian persecution, or about A.D. 96,[186:3] with a view to heal certain divisions which had sprung up in the religious community to which it is addressed; and, though written in the name of the Church of Rome, there is no reason to doubt that it is the composition of Clement, who was then at the head of the Roman presbytery.  The advice which it administers is most judicious; and the whole letter breathes the peaceful spirit of a devoted Christian pastor.  But it contains passages which furnish conclusive evidence that it has no claims whatever to inspiration; and its illustration of the doctrine of the resurrection is in itself more than sufficient to demonstrate that it could not have been dictated under any supernatural guidance.  “There is,” says Clement,[186:4] “a certain bird called the phoenix.  Of this there is never but one at a time, and that lives five hundred years:  and when the time of its dissolution draws near that it must die, it makes itself a nest of frankincense, and myrrh, and other spices, into which, when its time is fulfilled, it enters and dies.  But its flesh putrefying breeds a certain worm which, being nourished with the juice of the dead bird, brings forth feathers; and when it is grown to a perfect state, it takes up the nest in which the bones of its parent are, and carries it from Arabia into Egypt to a city called Heliopolis; and flying in open day, in the sight of all men, lays it upon the altar of the Sun, and so returns from whence it came.  The priests then search into the records of the time, and find that it returned precisely at the end of five hundred years.” [187:1]

In point of education the authors of the New Testament did not generally enjoy higher advantages than Clement; and yet, writing “as they were moved by the Holy Ghost,” they were prevented from giving currency, even in a single instance, to such a story as this fable of the phoenix.  All their statements will be found to be true, whether tried by the standard of mental or of moral science, of geography, or of natural history.  The theology which they teach is at once sound and genial; and those by whom it is appreciated can testify that whilst it invigorates and elevates the intellect, it also pacifies the conscience and purifies the heart.