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THE
CHRISTIAN LADY'S MAGAZINE. .
PREFACE.
'< Wb spend our years as a tale that is told." It is impossible to usher in another year — and that the seventh— of an undertaking in its nature ephemeral, without being reminded of this brief but comprehen- siye word of inspiration. '' As a tale that is told ** has each succeeding month, each following year passed by ; but not as breath dispersed in the invi* sible atmosphere around, to be no more traced, never to be gathered in, or subjected to the scrutinizing eye. Rather may we regard each fleeting day as a line engraven on a rock, there to abide until the hour when every mountain shall melt before the presence of the Lord. If this be so of our most trivial actions, words, and thoughts, which with us are speedily buried in oblivion, and which are in themselves only capable of influencing a very limited circle imme- diately surrounding us, the consideration become
it PSEFACB.
more sfribmn wban, by meant of tbepreasy our onrn fieelio^s i^d conviolkNis have been stamped down, aqdeircalated far abroad, ta exeroiae, in tbeir mea* sure, an infl nonce for good or for evW, after the band tbatipcnned tbe pages has long- been monldering in the dust.
It ncTfir was in the Editor's oontemplatlon to make thxst -little work a controversial one: simply to set forth the trnth, in varied and attractive garbs as abi- lity might be given, and the kind help of friends anist her to do, was the whole of her aitt. But events of stirring character have come to pass, a crisis of great moment has drawn nearer and nearer ; the charch has felt many shocks from those winds and waves that are destined to prove its stability on tbe Rock ; and even women that were at ease have been called upon to rise up, and to keep watch and Ward with their brethren. It is for this cause that tbe Christian Lady's Magazine has perhaps appeared to lose somewhat of its feminine character, while in duty constrained to give notice to those within the house, of some mighty wave rolling on, some men- acing cloud darkening the horizon, some sapping flood creeping stealthily towards the foundation of the building. From such duty the Editor never did, and with God's help, never will shrink back. The consequence has been an experience new, and cer- tainly painful to her. Attacks, some of them coarse and abusive, in tbe public prints that avowedly ad- vocate tbe cause of Popery, Infidelity, and Repubti-
!pbeface. ill
•
caaum: some banh, bitter, and contemptooos, from a party of another elass, who arrogate to themselves an iafafiibilitgr that will not stand the test of serip<» tare; and along with these^ abundanee of private anonymous Yebukes, breatbiog the spirit of arrogance and ill-will. Certainly if the Editor felt at liberty ta assorae the obaraeler of a * careless daaghter/ to sit down again and be at ease, it would wonderfcrily sfliooth her path, and might lead to the attainment of more general approval : bat this mnst not be. The ** tale ttet is told," of the fleeting years of one ob* scare individaal, and that individual a female, shall not, she hombly trusts, be the tale of Meroz.
JimB, 1840.
CONTENTS.
Ah Etesiko Htmn 417
A Pkatsr 145
At Homb 273
blogkapht of scripturb 136, 245, 440, 543
Chambkr of Sicknbss 550
Chafteb from thb Lifb of a Youkg Clebotmab 71
Charitablb Socibtibb 164,232,349
DciTT of Christ 238
"Etem So-* 365
Pemalb Biographt 17
For thb Nbw Tear 55
PRBBCH Protbstabts 147, 335,535
Has Irblakd dohb hbr Duty? 354
Hblbb Flbbtwoob 1, 97, 193, 289, 385,481
Herts' Protestant Association 161
Ihtitatioh to the Ladies of Enolamd 376
Iibabl's Trust 461
Jbah hovjB M D 419
Lbttbr from Dr. Xortob 527
Letters to a Friend 26, 170, 253, 450
Vi CONTENTS.
Paxe
MODBRN Gkolootsts 84S
MoRViNO Htmn 348
No SURRXMDSR 321
N0TB8 OK Genbsxi 82, 263
Ok Fxabtikg 524
Ok Sukdat School Tbachikg 180
Ok "The Oblation" 322
Pbtrarcr a Protbstakt 231
Phrasboloot ov thb Nbv Tbsvamxkt 154, 240
Protbstakt, Thb 89, 183, 280, 472, 567
Psalm i. 5 512
Rbcollbctionb ov Irblakb 35
Rbgbkbratiok 64
Rbvibws :
Ancient Christianity 565
Bagot on the Temptation in the WilderoeM 82
Bickersteth on Baptism 372
Buxton's AMcan Slave Trade and its Remedy 469
Characters and Eveftts in Scripture History 564
Church in the World 468
Church of Rome Examined 274
Cottage Dialogues 179
Cottage among the Mountains 275
Essays on the Church 562
Felix de Lisle 467
Hawtrey's Sponsors for the Poor 368
Hindoo Female Education 563
CONTENTS. Vll
Pmg*
Le Bouquet des Souvenirs 276
Leslie's (Mary) Visit to Ireland 277
Life of Christ 8S
Life of King William the Third 370
Memoir of the Rey. Henry Mowes 563
Memoixs of J. and 6. Macdonald 374
ITNeUe's Lectures 465
MontgonMry's Poetical Worlds 180
NanatiTecfBevlvals of Religion 86
Popeiy Unvdtod 87
Popish Faction In Ireland 177
Protestant Asoendattey Vindicated 369
Reviyal of Religion at Kilsyth 278
Royal Bridal, The 261
Saunder's Exiles of Zillerthal 181
SaYiour's Bight to Divine Worship Vindicated 561
School Girl in France 470
Sootfs Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress 85
Sketch of the Reformation in Poland 277
Stewart's Family which Jesus loved 84
Stodart's Every Day Duties , 373
Strengthen the things that remain 471
The Flower Fadeth ^ 176
Things New and Old 86
Transplanted Flowers 87
Unitarianism Confiited ^ 88
Stavsas 134
Vlll CONTENTS.
Pag-** Storm, The 841
Th£ Church as it ought to be 56
The Ikfant to its Mother 168
Things of old 127,223,432,517
To Sylvia « 4t8
Transfiovratiok, The 207, 306, 401, 498
We won't oive up the Bible 221
What is Life? 80
THE
CHRISTIAN LADY'S MAGAZINE.
JANUARY, 1840. i
HELEN FLEETWOOD. V.
I
The persons with whom our agent had principally had to do, in reference to the youthfal candidates for mill-laboar, were too generally reducible under two heads — those who knew little or nothing of the legal- ized regulations, and those who were well disposed to evade them. To the latter class the widow Green evidently did not belong : to the former she probably did. In fact, the good woman was totally ignorant on the subject, and had it not been for the warning communicated by Helen, she would have come alto- gether unprepared. Vague, however, as that warn- ing was, it induced hier to put into her pocket-book certificates of the children's baptism and age, fur- nished by Mr. Barlow, and with the imparted wisdom which is not only pure but peaceable, she placed
B
2 HBLEN FLEETWOOD.
them in the sargeon's hands before anything could be said. He regarded her with a look of kindness, not unmixed with pity when she announced herself as the only surviving friend of the orphan party before him.
' Helen Fleetwood,* read the surgeon, as he opened the first paper, * born so and so ; then, my girl, you are now past sixteen ?'
' Stop, stop,' cried Mr. M., ' we have nothing to do with certificates. The ordinary strength and appear- ance, doctor, is the rule/
' We may also be informed of the age.'
^ Well, well, there will be no difficulty in that The two next are unquestionably both thirteen and over ; the youngest nine ; therefore '
' No, sir, interrupted the widow ; the little girl is not even twelve; nor this boy much more than eight.'
' Then why did you bring him here, good woman ? You of course know that children are not admissible to our mills under nine years. The fact is, that little fellow wants but a few days or so of the requisite age; and having the strength and appearance fully, yon would not condemn him to idleness and vice, for the mere formality of the thing ; come, doctor, fill the certificate.'
'Excuse me, sir,' said the widow, modestly but firmly, * I cannot wrong this gentleman by allowing him to certify what I know to be untrue'. There is the parish register; you will see the child is only eight years and a half.'
'Then he must stand aside/ said the surgeon, while Mr. M. wrecked the nib of a pen upon his thumb-nail, with looks of evident vexation.
' Now for youy my lad. Past thirteen, I suppose?'
HELEN FLEETWOOD. tJ
* Yes, sir.'
The surgeon mased for a minate. He had looked ID the boy's pale face, felt his slender arm, and almost transparent fingers. Something appeared straggling in his bosom ; and with a sadden look fall at the agent, be said, * I cannot certify.'
' Not certify ! doctor, I have seen yoa pass many far younger, and qaite as weakly,' without deducting anything on that score.'
* Very probably you have, Mr. M. ; nevertheless I cannot in the present ease agree to do it. His sister has more the appearance, and the reality) too, of the average strength than he has. I could conscientiously enter ber in his stead.'
* You are quite right,' exclaimed the agent, ' let it be so ; and the exchange will be an advantage to all parties.'
The widow said nothing, but presented again the open certificate of Mary's actaal age to the surgeon, who, half smiling, proceeded to fill up the forms that left both her and her brother under the nominal pro- tection afforded to children ; for the legislature, by its latest act on the subject, recognizes as young men and women all who have completed their thirteenth year, and assigns to them the labour suited to adults !
The surgeon was bowed out by Mr. M., who pro- ceeded with no very gracious looks to make the en- tries. Meanwhile the widow's heart smote her with painful self-reproach. She regarded the sickly boy as wholly unfit for ev'en the light tasks that she had been assured would be assigned to him ; and resolving to make any personal effort or sacrifice rather than injure him, she requested the agent to postpone the
insertion of his name for a while.
B a
4 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
' Nonsense, nonsense, my good lady. He will be rated at nine years old, and worked according^ly ; and paid accordingly, too, thanks to your register and the doctor's conscience/ he added, with a sneering laugh.
But she still objected. In vain did the gentleman remonstrate, and in vain did he argue, except that the boy himself became anxious to undertake what was represented as being rather a pastime than a task. The widow remained inflexible ; and the agent, after entering Helen and Mary, closed the book with an air of displeasure : then sternly told them to be at their posts by six o'clock on the Monday morning. He refused to listen to Mrs. Green's queries as to the nature and duration of their employment, which he said she might make out among her acquaintance, adding, that they need not stay there any longer. With a glow on her aged cheek, the widow led her companions to the door, secretly congratulating her- self that she had not been beguiled into a more per- manent engagement for the two girls«
When Mrs. Wright heard that not only Willy but James was exempted from the agreement, she lacked words to express her astonishment and re- gret.
' To be sure, this boy's cheeks are not so red as the others, and he isn't so overgrown as Mary ; but if all that are not stronger and stouter than he were taken from work, a precious town of young idlers it would be, and the mills might stop at once.'
' I don't wish to be an idler, aant,' said the boy, colouring. *
' More shame for you if yon did, and your grand- mother, that has tended you all your life long, to have
HELEK FLEETWOOD. 6
yoa thrown on her hands now, when she oaght to be supported by you/
The boy burst into tears. ' Granny/ said he, * I will work, and nobody shall hinder me.^
^ Be quiet, my dear child,' replied the widow, soothingly ; then turning to her daughter, she said, with considerable earnestness, ' Sally, I shall be al- ways glad to talk over your family concerns with you at proper times, and to have your advice ; but I most not be dictated to in what concerns these children ; particularly in their presence.'
' Oh, to be sure ! ' said the other, as she violently swung a pot from over the fire; ' William's children mast be gentlefolks anywhere ; and their poor rela- tions, that live by the hard labour of themselves and their little ones, may be proud of the honour of serving them/
This unfeeling reproach sank deep into the hearts it was intended to wound ; but no reply was given. After a short pause the widow inquired about the schools, and was sullenly informed that there were plenty, from among which she could make her choice.
* And the Sunday school ? '
' Wright can tell you about that ; but it's little use for they will be too tired to go there/
* I'm not tired a bit,' said Mary.
' Tell me that this day fortnight,' retorted her aunt with a significant look.
Dinner being dispatched, the widow announced her intention of seeking a lodging to which they might remove on the Monday : Mrs. Wright ojQTered some faint opposition, protesting they were quite welcome to the best she had to give : but her mo-
6 HELBN FLEETWOOD.
tber pleaded the advantage of settling at once ; and having been told where to look for a respectable abode, she again sallied forth with her little band*
It was market-day : but the busiest hours of traffic being past, the country people were leaving the town, and our villagers had opportunity to contemplate the lower orders of the inhabitants now perambulating the streets, to pick up at lowest prices the refuse of the market and shops. Great as was the contrast between the dense smoky atmosphere of these nar- row, gloomy, filthy streets, and the pure sea-breeze of their own sweet native village, it was less painful than that which marked the population. Health, cleanliness, and good humour seemed almost equally banished from among them. Of bold, noisy mirth, drunken songs, and rude, coarse jesting there was indeed no scarcity : the poor strangers often shrank back in terror from the sounds they heard and the sights they beheld, but not even little Willy was tempted to smile by anything about him. Groups of children there were, and far more numerous than might have been expected, considering the factories were all full; but they seemed nearly divisible into two classes — incorrigible, reckless idlers, and poor, enervated sickly objects, who had crawled forth from the surrounding abodes of poverty to mingle with them. Still hoping to reach a quarter where beer- houses and gin-shops should be fewer, and compara- tive respectability more apparent, the widow passed on : but she found herself receding too far from the mill of the Messrs. Z., and the day fast closing too. She therefore fixed upon a small tenement, the oc- cupier of which was a decent old man, who offered the accommodation of two apartments, such as sbe
HELEK FLEETWOOD. 7
required ; and having exchanged references, she se- cured the rooms for a week ; resolving to make no more permanent engagement withoat saffioient deli- beratioD. Alas! the poor widow little knew how total a sacrifice of her independence she had already made.
It was now getting* late ; the street-lamps were lighted, and before they set out on their return the factories had poured forth their thousands of la- bourers, from the puny infant of six or seven years to the grey-headed man whose broken-down aspect proclaimed him as unfit for toil as they. It was a spectacle of interest and wonder to the young Greens, to behold sueh a rush of children coming from or hastening towards every point of the compass. Some shouting as they bounded along, in mischief or in sport pushing their quieter companions from the path, but the greater number evidently feeble from exhaustion, jaded and ill-tempered, and frequently resenting, in expressions of fearful impiety, the an- noyances of their more lively comrades. The widow shuddered as this occurred within her hearing, but still more were her feelings harrowed, when an in- voluntary pressure of her arm, which rested in Helen's, induced her to follow the direction of the girl's agitated look, and she beheld several mere children emerging from the doors of a gin»shop, flushed with the liquid flame which they had been swallowing. She hurried her young party onwards ; Secretly resolving that unattended they should never stir through those polluting scenes; and clung to the arm of her sympathizing supporter, with sensa- tions of mingled thankfulness, pity, and self-reproach ; for Helen, to whom alone she now looked for solace
8 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
and for aid, was of years so tender, of mind so inno- cent, and disposition so retiring, that she needed for herself the guardianship that others must seek at her hands.
Bewildered and heart-sickened, she reached her daughter's abode; and, on entering, heard a faint, querulous voice, exclaiming, ' Haven't I suffered enough, without being turned out of your company for my misfortunes ? *
* Let her stay, mother,' added Charles : ' they're nailed now fast enough; and what signifies their seeing her? '
Thus prepared, the strangers exhibited no surprise at the addition made to the party within. The girl who occupied a low chair near the chimney-corner, appeared to be naturally much taller than Phoebe, but was so twisted and crooked that she scarcely reached her height. Every feature betokened con- sumption far advanced ; and her large, glassy grey eyes seemed to rove about in quest of some object to interest them ; while an expression of melancholy discontent shewed how vain was the search. A large shawl pinned close round the throat fell over her shoulders and body ; and she was evidently helpless as an infant.
The widow, merely asking, / Is this my grand- daughter Sarah ? ' imprinted an affectionate kiss on the pale cheek that was raised to receive it ; and the girl's faint smile went more to her heart than any thing she had yet met under that roof.
* Grandmother,' she said, ' I ap quite glad to see you: are those my cousins?' They all surrounded her immediately, and each had something kind to say. Helen approached last, and gently telling her
HBLEN FLEETWOOD. 9
that though not a cousin she hoped she might be owned as a friend, sainted the poor girl, who, fixing her full eyes on her face, abruptly said, ^ I like you very mach, Helen Fleetwood.'
Mrs. Wright seemed rather puaszled by this scene : she understood not the feeling awakened in the generous minds of her guests by a spectacle that she expected would have excited their disgust; for it was already apparent to all, that poor Sarah had only one arm, and that one so contracted as to be nearly useless; while her feet were bent in, until she rested on the ankle bones. * You see/ said her mother, 'what an object she is. The arm was lost by an accident, and all the rest came from convul- sions and fits/
' Don't be frightened,' said Charles, who saw the children shrink back at the last wQrds. * She has no fits now, poor thing I ' and he looked at her with an expression of tenderness which his countenance had hardly seemed capable of assuming.
When Wright came in, he answered all enquiries respecting the Sunday school nearly to the widow's satisfaction. He said the teachers were chiefly taken from among the adult working people; and that there was plenty of the Bible. Respecting the day schools, he told her that the children must produce every Monday a voucher from some master or mistress of having attended their school for two hours each day on any six days out of the week: but he added, that there were ways of managing that without being over ponctual. His wife interrupted him : * Oh, you need not talk of that: mother's conscience is too particular. Here are these two boys going to be gentlemen at large, because one is weakly for
10 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
his age, and the other wants a few weeks of being nine ! '
' You woVt be able to afford that, mother/ said Wright, shaking his head : * you must get the little fellow into a silk mill, where the age is no objection, and the hours are shorter/
Both the boys brightened at this, and eagerly looked at their grandmother, who observed, * We shall see about all those things next week : to-morrow is a day of rest both for body and mind. Where is your place of worship ? *
* Our parish church is three streets off/
When they retired for' the night, Helen remarked that poor Susan had interested her greatly ; but that she seemed to have no idea of religion, which she thought very strange; for surely if the clergyman was at air like Mr. Barlow, he would visit and in- struct one so afflicted, and with a short time to live. * Alas, my child,' said the widow, • this place is so thickly peopled, that I fear the clergy cannot visit half their people unless they be sent for: and from what I have seen and heard in this house, such visi- tors would scarcely be over welcome.'
* The boys say they will lie in bed till noon to- morrow, and then go play in some fields near the town.'
^ Then, Helen, we must all endeavour to shew them how Christians ought to spend the Sabbath-day. May we have grace to be faithful I It is not easy to flesh and blood, when placed among scorners, to per- severe, even outwardly, in a right path; but we shall receive all needful help from him who giveth liberally and upbraideth not/
They did beseech that help, and laid down to rest ;
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 11
bat many were the thoughts that kept them waking that night, Helen had obtained a view of their pro- bable trials, that would greatly have oppressed her spirit, had not the powerful interest awakened in her mind for the poor dying Sarah well nigh banished everything else. Taught of God to value the privi- leges that his mercy had bestowed on her from in^ fancy, they were now doubly enhanced by the sad spectacle of a family, nearly connected with those to whom she belonged, evidently destitute of even the desire to know the Lord. She longed to awaken in their dark, cold minds such a desire ; but far more than any other did the mutilated girl's sad ignorance affect her ; and many a plan she revolved for Sarah's spiritual good, ere sleep closed her eyelids.
The widow was not less agitated by the same theme ; but her anxieties took a much wider range. In all that most distressed her as appertaining to her daughter's children she read a fearful tale of peril for those of her departed son. The evident jealousy of the former forbade her to expect help, or even common sympathy, under any difficulty that she might encounter in a strange place ; and as yet she had seen nothing that wore the aspect of benevolence -^nothing but what contrasted strongly with the de- ference and respect to which she had been accus- tomed at home* Home! she dwelt upon the term till tears bedewed her pillow, as all the fond recollec- tions connected with that magic word crowded upon her. * Yet,' thought she, ' it is far better thus to feel myself a pilgrim and sojourner. It was the curse of Moab to be settled on his lees and not emptied from vessel, and therefore he became proud and pre- sumptuous. It matters little where or how the rem-
12 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
nant of my days is spent ; but these poor helpless ones — who will care for them as I have done?^ The promise was brought to mind, '* As one whom his mother cotnforteth, so will I comfort him." The widow prayed, and slept.
Early on the Sabbath morning they awoke, con- scious of a sunbeam struggling to find entrance into that gloomy abode : they saw the bright ray strik*- ing aslant on the opposite roofs, and a clear blue sky stretching above. It was the first fine day that had shone on them since leaving home, and theyhailed it joyously. * I suppose,' said James, ' this is no
place for singing hymns, or else^ ' And why
not?' interrupted Mary, impatiently; ' let's begin at once ; * and before the widow could decide whether to allow it or not, the four clear voices were carolling their early Sabbath hymn, as they had always been accustomed to do in their own cottage.
No notice was taken, though it evidently created a stir in the adjoining apartment : but when the guests, fresh from their morning duty, and even more neatly dressed than before, presented them- selves at the breakfast table, a glance of dissatisfac- tion from Mrs. Wright, who looked dirtier than usual, accompanied the remark, ' You were deter- mined we should not oversleep ourselves after the week's work.'
* Did we disturb you, aunt?' asked Mary.
' I don't coAiplain ; but the children, poor things, would have been glad to remain quiet.'
Phoebe now appeared, yawning, sighing, and look- ing so ill that they really grieved for having broken her rest. In reply to their apologies, she only said, with a look of derision, ' Oh, I like musical geniuses.
HELEN FLEETWOOD, 13
especially when they are so very devoat/ A titter from the press-bed ia the corner, and the word ' very ' repeated by Charles, proved that the boys were keep- ing to their resolution of remaining there. Sarah too was absent.
The Sunday-school was opened long before they could arrive, from the latef breakfast table with their dilatory conductor; and a very cursory view of it determined the widow not to enter her children there. Such an uninterested, heavy-looking set of scholars she had never seen ; nor was their personal appear-* ance as to cleanliness such as to invite a near ap- proach. The greater number were dozing over their tasks, and the principal business of the teachers seemed to be that of shaking or cuffing them out of their lethargy, into which they presently relapsed; and Mrs. Green seeing that her own children were disposed to laugh at the odd appearance of the little slumberers, soon withdrew, intending to walk in the church-yard until the hour of service. Here, how- ever, she found a large number of ragged idlers play- ing about; and bad language so prevalent that it quickly drove them thence. They then slowly pro- ceeded along one of the principal streets ; and before the welcome bell summoned then) into a house of prayer they had wandered to the doors of another bfaurch. The respectability of their appearance pre- served them seats in a pew ; and amiable indeed did the tabernacle of the Lord appear to them as a holy refuge from scenes and sounds alike new and dis- gusting to the modest villagers. The preacher was not a Mr. Barlow : little could they learn from his discourse of what they had been accustomed to in their own place of worship : but the appointed scrip-
14 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
tures of the day — ^the Psalms and Lessons — seemed pecaliarly suited to their need; and Mrs. Green thankfully owned, as many another had done, that whatever the pulpit may do or leave andone/the desk in oar churches most perforce preach the gos- pel.
With conscious reluctance they again reached Mrs. Wright's dwelling: but this was dissipated when they heard poor Sarah's exclamation of pleasure, while inviting > them to -approach and receive her greeting. No change was made in her dress, but Phoebe appeared tricked out in such finery as to astonish her cousins, whose gaze of wonder evidently gratified her vanity. Charles was seated near, with a soiled story-book in his hand, which he seemed desirous to display while addressing to James the enquiry, 'Well, I hope you have bad enough of praying and psalm-singing?'
Mary was about to volunteer a tart reply; but Sarah's eager voice interposed : * Oh the singing ! what. swQCt singing you made this morning ! Too mast sing to me that pretty tune again. I said when you left off, it was so sweet.'
* We'll all sing,' said Phoebe, * when they have learnt our songs ' ^* No, no,' rejoined Sarah has- tily, ' their song is best.*
* My dear, dear child,' said the widow, sitting down by her, ^our song is indeed the best; for it gives praise to the Saviour of sinners.'
' Who is that, grandmother? ' asked the girl, rais- ing her eyes, with a half vacant look.
* Jesus Christ,' repeated all her cousins, in a breath, and with a solemnity of tone that seenied to provoke Phoebe, who, tossing her head, observed to her sister
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 15
in a YOlce of scornful reproach, ' Jast as if you didn't know that as well as they ! '
' Do you know him, Sarah ; do you know the Lord Jesus Christ, as the Saviour of sinners, and as you own Saviour from sin and its everlasting punish- ment?'.asked the widow.
* No, ma'am ; I do not.'
* It's a lie/ exclaimed Charles, ' you do.'
His grandmother turned to him, and commenced mildly explaining the difference between such a knowledge as he meant and a real saving acquaints ance with the Lord Jesus, but he broke in upon her, rising and with an oath exclaiming, 'I wish you had not come here to pester us with your cant. I shan't stay to be bored with it, at any rate ; and as for that poor girl, she has enough to bear without being made a gloomy Methodist into the bargain. Come along Johnny — better lose one's dinner than get such sauce to it.' He dashed down his book, seized his unwilling brother by the arm, and left the house.
*Oh pray, pray don't be angry!' sobbed Sarah, who seemed to feel the insult to her aged relative as much as the young Greens evidently did.
' I am not angry, my love, not at all,' said the widow, wiping the tears from the helpless girl's face. ' Poor Charles is quite mistaken, or he would not speak so. We .must pray for him.'
' I never pray,' observed the girl.
' But you must.'
* I don't know how, grandmother ; I never learned.' 'There's another of your lies,' remarked Phoebe;
' you went to church often enough.'
' Yes ; but that's long ago, and I don't remember the prayers ; so how should I pray ? '
16 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
^ Leave your nonsense/ said her mother, sharply, * and don't keep your friends from taking off their honnets.*
Upon this hint the visitors retired to their room, where they heard involuntarily the united scoldings of mother and sister, with a sob from Sarah between the pauses. She was evidently too weak to cope with anything so agitating, and the widow trembled lest it should induce a return of the fits* She kneeled down, with her little party around her, and in a low voice commended to the mercies of God in Christ Jesus the poor wounded, straying lamb thai she ar- dently longed to gather into his fold.
The two boys did not return ; and after a gloomy meal Phoebe went out also. On their return from afternoon service the widow engaged in a conversa- tion with her son-in-law, her daughter, and two neighbours who dropped in, which, while she strove to make it sul^servient to their spiritual good, gave her an unexpected and startling insight into some details of the factory system, which we must re- serve for another chapter.
17
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
SARAH.
No. I.
When men attempt to write the biographies of their fellow-men, who have been distinguished for genius, for learning, or for virtue, the result is usually pane- gyric. The pictured delineation may bear a striking resemblance in proportion and outline, to the fair prototype, but the colouring is heightened, the light is made to fall upon the more perfect features ; the defects are thrown into shadow. It is not thus however that the portraitures of men are drawn in the inspired word of God, by the unerring pencil of the Holy Ghost. There no illusion obtains ; no false colouring is admitted. There is neither distortion, nor palliation, nor concealment. The mirror of truth, unlike the canvass of the artist, gives back from its pare unclouded surface every lineament and feature, every spot and blemish, without any admixture of embellishment on the one hand or of disparagement on the other. The Bible affords us but one perfect example ; in all other instances, men are exhibited 80 full of infirmity, that they are found to fail, even in the exercise of those particular virtues for which they are especially commended. The meekest man that ever lived, falls through pride and anger ^ the
iAMVART, 1840. c
18 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE*
father of the faithfal is on two occasions ** faithless found ; '* and she who is held ap as a model of con- jugal affection and duty introduces discord and strife into her household, to he perpetuated among the de- scendants of the same parent, to a thousand genera- tions. What then ? Shall we turn from the study of these imperfect examples in search of an ideal perfection which never has been, and never will be realized ? No ! we will rather listen to the voice of inspired wisdom, bidding us to look back into *' the old time," and contemplate those* "holy women" whose conduct is set forth as worthy of our imitation. We will consider their " trust in God," their " chaste conversation,'' their glorious adorning, their fearless yet devoted submission ; and we will be content to earn, by well-doing, by faithful discharge of every social duty, our title to be called the daughters of her who, *^ after this manner," obeyed her husband ; and who has this high honour conferred upon her, that she is said to be the mother of all those who, actuated by the same principles, give in their day and generatioil, an example of the obedience of duty ; even as Abraham is declared to be the father of all, who evidence by their walk and conduct an example of the obedience of faith.
Eighteen hundred years have well nigh elapsed since the apostle Peter directed the attention of his female converts to the " old time " for models of duty and of purity of life and manners ; and to the end of this dispensation, the daughters of the Christian covenant will have to measure themselves by the same standards. To the tent of Sarah they must go for instruction, and learn in an age of luxury and excitement a lesson of humility, of self-denial, of
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE. 19
tnisi in God, and of unostentations daty, within the hallowed precincts of the patriarchal home.
In stddying those holy scriptares which were writ- ten for our learning, how often are we tempted to wish that the inspired penmen had been less brief and basty in their delineations of the lives and cha- racters of individuals. How do we long to question of those things which are not recorded ; and to have those links in the chain of events supplied which are found wanting. The patient investigation of God's word ; the comparing scripture with scrip- ture, will do much towards supplying these deficien- cies, and where these fail, our natural curiosity is chastised by the recollection that enoagh has been recorded for our correction and instruction in right- eousness. Of the early years of Sarai, we know nothing beyond the mere mention of her marriage with Abram in the land of his nativity^ in Ur of the Chaldees. She appears to have been nearly con< nected with ber husband before this marriage, and may have borne the same relationship to him that Milcah did to Nahor. She was at alfevents a de- scendant of the elder Nahor, and therefore we may conclude that Ohaldea was also the land of her birth. Terah and his children were the members of a set- tled and civilized community, and must have been completely distinct in character and habits from the nomades of the surrounding deserts. They dwelt in one of the many flouijshing towns of the Mesopota- mia, in a city which had Nimrod for its founder, and in a land rich in the traditions of that earlier time, when ^' the whole earth was of one language and of one speech." But with whatever accuracy the know- ledge of the true God, and of his dealings with a
c 2
20 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
fallen race had been transmitted by the sons of Noah to their immediate descendants, that knowledge had been, in process of time, either lost or corrapted, by their degenerate posterity : and the men who pro- fessed to know God, bat in works denied him, had been by him given ap to worship the «host of heaven, and to render to the visible that homage and service which are due only to the invisible things of Him, even his eternal power and Godhead. Many a lonely ruined pile, whose gigantic proportions seem to mock the puny architectare of modern days, attests to the traveller in these regions that here the Chal- dean sages held their nightly converse with the stars, as they burned with pure, yet intense light in their clear, cloudless atmosphere. Here they marked the coming forth of '* Mazzaroth in his season, and Arc- turus with his sons ; '' here they marked how the ad- vancing spring was betokened by " the sweet influ- ence of the pleiades," and how the earth was chilled beneath An tares' beam. And as the devotees of -this awe-inspiring science relaxed their hold upon the tenets of that pure theism which their forefathers be- queathed to them,-^as they witnessed, from age to age, the unaltered regularity to the heavenly bodies ; their undimmed, undying lustre ; their changeless, tranquil path in the wide heavens, and contrasted them with the frail fleeting things of earth ; it is not surprising that their darkened heart was lifted up to adore these seemingly bright intelligences, nor that they should become
' A worship ere the myst'ry of their making was revealed.'
That Terah and his household were deeply imbued with the spirit of the Chaldean idolatry, is evident
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE. 21
from the confession of Joshua in his pahlic charge to the twelve tribes at Shechem ; and it appears prob* able that, like the Israelites of that day/ so also the *' fathers who dwell on the other side of the flood " had attempted to nnite the service of Jehovah with the maltiplied objects of the Sabean worship ; for when the call came to Abram, *' get thee oat of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's hoase, onto a land that I will shew thee," — his believing ac- quiescence in this command, proves, at least, that he had some distinct knowledge of Him who gave it : for how could he believe in Him of whom he had not heard, and how could he have given credit to the promise of God, if he had not previously entertained some just and accurate notions of His faithfulness and power ?
** And Terah took Abram his son, and Lot the son of Haran his son's son, and Sarai his daughter-in- law, his son Abram's wife : and they went forth with them from Ur of tlie Chaldees, to go into the land of Canaan/' Of all the members of Terah*s house- boldj the command had been addressed singly and individually to Abram, *' Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house/^ To none other was this extraordinary direction given, of none other was this painful sacrifice required : hot when the resolute obedience of Abraham had stood the test of all those obstacles which must have arisen to try it — when he was prepared to quit his settled home in Ur to become a pilgrim, and his family endearments and national distinctions to become a stranger upon earth — then it was that the paternal tenderness of Terah was manifested towards his pioas SOD, by his determining to accompany Abram
22 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
even to that remote and unknown land which God had promised to. shew him—" they went forth to -go into the land of Canaan/' But with whatever sin- cerity of purpose Terah had commenced the pil- grimage, he did not long persevere in it. He never crossed the houndaries of his native country ; bat after a short journey in the direction of the promised land, either overcome by the infirmities of age, or discouraged by reason of the way, he sat down, not in a tabernacle, like one who was ready on the mor- row to strike his tent and march onward, but with that pertinacity of habit which in old age peculiarly manifests itseif, he settled himself once more in a city of Mesopotamia — " He came unto Haran and dwelt there."
The death of Terah soon left Abram at liberty to recommence his journey. He collected together the property he had acquired while dwelling in Haran, and took with him that orphan charge bequeathed to him and his father ; the only son of his deceased bro- ther. For the space of three years after their depar- ture from Haran, Lot continued to accompany his uncle in their journeyings through the land of Canaan, a witness of the piety and courage with which, though surrounded by the powerful and idola- trous Anakim, Abram built in every place of bis temporary sojourning an altar to the Lord ; and a partaker of the temporal blessings promised by /ehovah to his faithful servant ; for we read, " Lot also, which went with Abram, had flocks and herds and tents.'' It was well, however, for the patriarch that he was not dependant for the solace of com- panionship and affection upon the unstable and worldly-minded Lot, who too soon abandoned the
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE. 23
pilgrim's life to dwell in the ** cities of the plain/' With whatever degree of affection he might have looked upon the guardian of bis yonth, it was not powerful enongh to hind him to Abram when the hopes of self-aggrandizement, by means of their separation, awakened within his bosom : and it was well for the man who remained still a stranger and a sojoorner in the land — for him whose heart had been already so deeply rent by separation from kindred and home and country — that one human friend was still left to him, whom no diversity of fortune, no peril nor chance of worldly loss, could sever from his side — one who knew no exile where her Lord was present, and who, like him, was content to so- journ in the land of promise as in a strange country, looking for a city '* which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God/'
Time was, when the yet unfallen representative of the human race walked before God. in the blameless- ness of perfect integrity, enjoying not alone the so- vereignty of the creatures, the beauty, the profusion, and the solacement of external nature, but also that which only could satisfy the cravings of his immortal sonl— the consciousness of the Creator's love, and the ready response to that love which the harmony of the unbroken moral law within his breast gave back with every vibration of it^ mysterious chords. It was at such a time as this, so replenished from without, so harmonious within, that the eye of Omniscience discovered something which was yet wanting to perfect man's felicity. His spiritual nature conid go forth in holy communion with God ; but his human mind found no companionship either in the natural or animal world around him. ** And
24 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
the Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him/' The gift which was granted to man in the day of his uprightness has not been withdrawn from him in the day of his transgression ; and to the pre- sent hour none of the sons of Adam has been so poor or so outcast, but that there Inight be foand a help meet for his necessity, a sharer of his forlorn condi- tion. The records of crime and misery often exhibit something in the hard-tried, devoted attachment of a wife, which so far surpasses the limits of human patience and endurance, that it can be accounted for only by supposing that the Creator, in implanting within the breast the instinct of conjugal affection, gave to it the force of an elastic power, rising with every fresh demand upon its energies, and, like the fragile-looking asbestos, not only resisting the fierce- ness of the hottest flame, but appearing to become whiter and purer in the fiery process.
But it is not alone in the enduring fidelity of her attachment to the fate and fortunes of man, *' for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health,'' that woman — woman, the daughter, sister, mother, wife — has been a help meet for him. Look at the history of those ancient nations, the light of whose cultivated reason contrasts strangely with the darkness of their vain imaginations in their perceptions of spiritual things ; and see how the name of woman blends with everything that is lofty in heroism, pure in patriotism, and noble in self- sacrifice. Nor have the annals of Christendom been found to fail in bearing testimony to the fact, that woman— enlightened by the gospel of the grace of God, and raised from the degradation of her former
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIFTURE. 25
position by that gospel — has beea a mighty iostru- ment in the hands of God for the pieservation of his faith upon earth, and a watcbfal conservator of all its pore and holy charities.
The *' heirs of the grace of life" are still profess- ing to seek a country — ^still confessing themselves strangers and pilgrims upon earth ; and shall not those who are called to be ** heirs together with them/' willingly give np, as Sarai did the fond ido- latries of yoath, the desire of worldly ease, and ap- probation» and aggrandizement, to become help- meets and not hinderers of the pilgrims of Canaan ?
Lydia.
Could an nnporified sinner find entrance into heaven, it woold be an impeacbment on the Father's justice, an insnlt to the Saviour's atonement, a denial of the Spirit's offices, a contempt put t^pon the Spirit's work, a spot upon the disk of God's perfections, a speck on the purity of Christ's redemption. The sight would strike horror into the choir of the ran- somed, would silence their song of triumph, would wither the palms in their hands, would pale the lustre of the diadems upon their brows; for how oonld they know but that, by the aperture at which that sinner had entered, Satan himself might stand among them too? — Rev, T. Dale,
26
LETTERS TO A FRIEND.
II.
[By an oversight of the Editor, the third letter in this series was inserted last month instead of this, which is the second.]
For the purpose of giving you some sketches of onr earliest records of Ireland, I have applied myself to the account transmitted to us by Geoffry Keating, D.D. I can promise nothing from myself, but merely to be a gleaner from others, being unacquainted with the Irish language. If I had even an opportunity of seeing the many valuable old records which have never yet been explored, they must remain so by me. I begin with Keating's history, because he under- stood the language thoroughly, and wrote his history in it. In the edition, published 1809, of his work now before me, translated by Dermod O'Connor, Antiquary of the kingdom of Ireland, I find the fol- lowing account of the author. Rev. J. Keating studied in Spain for twenty-three years, in the col- lege of Salamanca. On his return home he was ap- pointed parish priest of Tybrud. He was esteemed very learned, yery zealous in religion, and of a patri- otic spirit.
In the zealous discharge of his sacerdotal duties, he exasperated the temper of a man who became an
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 27
inveterate enemy, and obliged him to take refuge from his persecation in the retired fastnesses of the wood of Aharla, which lies between the Gailte moan"} taiD and Tipperary. In this concealment, he wrote his history, not for the lucre of gain, but for the benefit of his countrymen.
His esteem for the Irish language is described in the following lines^ written by him in that language, but translated by O'Connor.
The Irish language is completely sweet ; In aid of it no foreign e'er did meet. A copioas, free, keen, and extending voice. And melliflaent, brief; for mirth most choice. * Althongh the Hebrew language be the first. And that, for learning, Latin be the best. Yet still, from them, the Irish ne'er was found. One word to borrow, to make its proper sound.
«
He died in the year 1644— at least that is the date of the inscription to his memory, in raised letters, over the door of the church at Tybrud.
I find so many incredible legends in his history, that I cannot imagine why he' should have been at the trouble of detailing them ; but in those early times many people believed in. sup^erstitious dreams and visions, which at present would not be listened to. They still prevail among the lower Irish, many of whose Jegends are taken from ancient mythology ; and from almost all a good moral may be deduced. I shall give you some of these from Keating's narra- tive, to enliven my letters for your children ; but shall first give a few extracts from his own preface, in which it may be seen that he actually believed all that he found in the ancient records.
In giving bis reasons for writing his history, Keat- ing saySy ^ I am a person of an advanced age, and
28 LETTERS TO A FRIEND*
have acquired a more valoable experience, by an- derstanding the public chronicles and ancient authors in their original language, than they (being of other countries, of minor years, and not having time to digest, or capacity to understand the ancient re* cords) could possibly arrive at. It is not from a principle of love or aversion, nor that I am moved by the importunity of friends, or the strong influence of rewards, that I undertook to write the following his- tory of Ireland, but was urged on by reflecting that so noble a country as the kingdom of Ireland, and so worthy and generous a people who possessed it, ought not to be abused by fabulous relations, or have their memories buried in oblivion, without being transmitted, and the antiquity and names of the in- habitants recorded with honour to posterity : and I humbly conceive that my history should the rather take place, because I trace the antiquity of the Irish much higher, and with better authority than other writers, and give a particular account of the most ancient Irish, the Gadelians : and if any one should suppose that I bestow too large encomiums upon that brave and illustrious tribe, or speak with par- tiality of their exploits, let it be considered that I have no temptation to be unjust,, being myself ori- ginally of English extraction.
' ' I have observed, that every modern historian, who has undertaken to write of Ireland, commends the country, but despises the people ; which so far raised my resentment and indignation, that I set out in this untrodden path, and resolved to vindicate so brave a people from such scandalous abuses, by seardiing into original records, and from thence compiling a true and impartial history.
LETTBBS TO A FBISMD. 29
'. It grieyed me to see a nation hunted down by ignorance and malice, and recorded as the scam and refuse of mankind, when upon a strict inqoirj they have made as good a figure, and have signalized themselves in as commendable a manner to posterity^ as any people in Earope. The valour and unshaken bravery of the old Irish, and particularly their fixed constancy in the Christian religion, and the Catholic faith, ought to be honourably mentioned, as a proper standard and example for ages that follow. All his- tories allow that Ireland was the established seat of learning, that annually afforded numbers of pro- fessors, who were sent to cultivate and improve the neighbouring nations of France, Italy, Germany, Flanders, England, and Scotland.
* If it be objected, that the chronicles of Ireland are liable to suspicion, and may be justly questioned; let it be observed in reply, that no people in the world took more care to preserve the authority of their public records, and to deliver them uncorrupt to Tara, in the presence of the nobility and clergy, and in a full assembly of the most learned and emi- nent antiquaries in the country.
* The treatises that are to be seen at this day in the Irish language, contain particular relations of all the memorable battles and transactions that happened in Ireland from the first account of time, and gives an account of the genealogies of the principal families in the island ; and the aathority of these public re- cords cannot be questioned, when it is considered that there were above two hundred chroniclers and antiquaries, whose business was to preserve and re- cord all actions and afiairs of consequence relating to the public ; they had revenues and salaries settled
30 - LETTERS TO A FRIEND.
upon them for their maintenance^ and to snpport the dignity of their character; their annals and histories were submitted to the examinations and censure of the nobility, clergy, and gentry, who were most emi- nent for learning, and assembled for that very pur- pose; which is evidence sufficient to evince their au- thority, and to procure them, upon the account of what has been mentioned, a superior esteem to the antiquities of any other nation, except the Jewish, throughout the world.
* The chronicles of Ireland receive an additional valae from this consideration, that they were neVer suppressed by the tyranny and invasion of any foreign power; for thotigh the Danes occasioned great trou- bles in the kingdom of Ireland for many ages, yet the number of these public registerers, whose office was to enter upon record the affairs of the kingdom, were so many that the Danes could not possibly destroy them all, though it must be confessed that some of the chronicles of those times perished. No other country in Europe, that I know of, can justly boast of the same advantage; for though the Romans, the Gauls, the Goths, Saxons, Saracens, Moors, and Danes generally were careful to suppress the public records in their respective incursions, yet it was impossible that the antiquities of Ireland should be involved in the same fate, because copies of them were lodged in so many hands, and there were so many antiquaries to take care of them.
' The Irish were furnished with a learned body of men, called druids or soothsayers, whose peculiar office it was to take a strict account of the several genealogies, and to record the most memorable trans- actions that happened in the kingdom.
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 31
'Nial, the father of Gadelas, obtained all his riches and honour upon the account of his learning and ex- quisite art, from whom were derived, not only the streams of learning and knowledge, but a suflBcient skill to adjust the pedigrees of families, and to trans- mit them uncorrupt to after ages.'
In the year of our Lord 1566, ' There was an English priest, whose name was Good ; he taught a school in Limerick, and upon the strictest survey and inquiry, gives this account of the people of Ireland : ''They are a people robust, and of great agility of body, of a stout and magnanimous disposition, of a sharp and warlike genius, prodigal of life, patient of labour, of cold, and of hunger ; exceeding kind and hospitable to strangers, constant in their love, impla- cable to their enemies, easy to believe, impatient of reproach and injury.** *
Stanihurst's account of them is — * In labours the most patient of mankind, and seldom despairing un- der the greatest difficulties/
Sir, the church of England is the eye of England. If there be a speck or two in the eye, we endeavour to take them off; but he were a strange oculist who should pull out the eye. — Lord Bacan»
32
NOTES ON GENESIS.
CHAPTER lU
2, 8. This Sabbath was instituted to commemorate the finished work of Creation. It was afterwards changed to the first day of the week, the day of oar Lord's resurrection, to commemorate the finished work of redemption. In either view it was to be set apart or sanctified as a day of rest from all worldly occupations ; a day of public worship of God, and priyate commnnion with Him ; a day to be entirely devoted to religious purposes. There is no onebranch of duty more strongly insisted on in scripture, or to which greater blessings, both national and individual, are annexed, than a strict adherence to the sanctifi- cation of the Sabbath. The neglect of it is at once an evidence of the want of religion, and a prevention of its growth. See Isaiah Iviii. 13, where no less a bless- ing is promised to the strict observance of the sab- bath, than an increasing delight in the Lord.
17. Man, living entirely under the influence and guidance of Him who is wisdom, was forbidden to taste 6f the tree of the knowledge of good and evil — was forbidden to seek an independent knowledge or wisdom of his own. The Spirit of God dwelt in him, feeding him with all holiness, goodness, and wisdom, as the branch is nourished by the sap of the tree on
NOTES ON GENESIS. 83
which it grows. Bat if he should seek to become io- dependeDt, ta judge for himself by wisdom of his owo, he shall surely die — die from that life of God in which he had lived, become as a branch broken off, and no longer nourished by the parent tree, (See John XT. 1 — 7,) and, no longer being enlightened and guided by that wisdom which is from above, must necessarily fall under the guidance of that blind and finite wisdom, of which a finite being is alone capable, which cannot extend beyond certain limited bounds ; as every created thing must be limited, infinitude be- longing to God alone, the only self- existent, who filleth all space, and in whom all things do consist. The creature thus severed from his root, removed from his centre, standing alone, left to himself, left to his own dark and limited powers, must necessarily he enveloped in self, must become his own centre ; jet feeling insufficient to himself, groping after what- ever his blind wisdom and narrow views conceive to he good, hating whatever he conceives opposes or annoys him ; he must necessarily be just what we find man in bis present state naturally is, a selfish, craving, restless, unsatisfied being, from whom every ^ce and every vicious passion must flow in varied Uods and degrees, according as surrounding objects and circumstances act on him.
34. Here is the institution of marriage, and much misery has arisen in the world from not attending to its design and the command given respecting it. God decrees that in marriage two should become one, one in heart, in inclinations, in interests, in pursuits; united by a tie more close, more dear than the closest and dearest bonds of nature ; cleaving to each other
JiJruAKT, 1840. D
34 NOTES ON GENESIS.
more than to father -and mother. Yet we daily see marriages contracted in which it is not possible sach a anion could exist ; where the dissimilarity of edu- cation, habits, tastes, or natural dispositions render it impossible for even a union in religious sentiments to produce that foil harmony of heart necessary to the idea of two becoming one. From this cause I have seen much deficiency of affection and happiness in marriages, where each party possessed qualities capable of rendering them blessings in domestic life with a more suitable companion. Who can expect a blessing on a state entered into without a due regard to the declared will and intention of God !
35
RECOLLECTIONS OF IRELAND.
No. VI.
A PARISH HISTORY.
* The case is simply this,' said the curate : * When I set oat on the journey from which I am now return- ing, I arranged all its stages in my own mind pre- viously ; for one so little used to travelling, may, even in 'these days, be excused for feeling a little sort of nervous apprehension regarding a seat on the top of a coach, and, to avoid the expense of one in- side it,I resolved to take poor old Dodger as my sole conveyance, aiid to stop each night at houses where I was assured of a cead-mil failthele to all they had to give. 'On approaching your county, I own, how- ever, I found that in one respect I had been sadly deficient in the foresight on which I prided myself.- It was the fair day, and 1 found I had to travel per- haps seven or eight miles at an hour which on such an evening could not be considered a safe one. I revolved, therefore in my mind the prudence of stopping till morning in the town ; but the idea of
spending the night at a noisy and public inn, which,
D s
35 RECOLLECTIONS OF IRELAND.
as I did not know a creatare there, I mast have done, counterbalanced the fear of assault, and I pro- ceeded.
< A little out of the town, I perceived three n>en walking before me; and the suspicions of danger which probably arose from the consciousness that I had then upon my person nearly all my store of worldly goods, in the shape of cash to defray the ex- penses of my journey, made me keep an anxious eye upon them. I saw two of them were evidently in- toxi<!ated, and appeared to -behave in that rude and reckless manner which made me much wish to avoid their path : but poor Dodger was already tired, and therefore I thought it most advisable to linger be- hind, especially as I must turn off the cross-roads, to the friend's house where I intended to rest that night, and I hoped it might be their purpose to continue straight on.
' Before long, however, an altercation ensued be- tween them, and after some disputation, the object of which appeared to be to prevent the most respect- able-looking of the party from returning ; one man turned back and ran towards the town. I felt a little uneasy at first, but I soon saw that I was not the object of his notice. The other two continued some short distance further, but on coming to the cross-roads at which I designed to turn off, the younger abruptly bade his companion good night. The other put out his hand with the intention, it seemed, of catching the breast of his coat, but failed in his object, and murmuring something indistinctly, staggered to the other side of the way. I was then close behind them ; for being glad to find myself so near the road by which I was to leave the public one,
RECOLLECTIONS OF IRELAND. 87
I bad come on faster than I did before. I am quite certain that I heard the words, * Good night, Pat.' A glance at the coantenance of the speaker recon- ciled me to taking the same road with him; indeed it was jost the coantenance in which yon would hope yon could not be mistaken — open, honest, and gen- erous. I thought it expedient to |ein his company, and from his first salutation I saw he took me for a priest. I was not altogether disinclined to let him think me so ; in the first place it would afford me a safe convoy, and next, it gave me the oportunity of conveying to my companion much truth which might be received with prejudice, if known to be uttered by a Protestant clergyman*
' As he conversed without any respect to party, it was not until we were near parting that I discovered he too was a Protestant. It was in consequence of my endeavouring to shew him the injury that often arose from frequenting such places as he had first come from, that he told me, with perfect candour, of the manner In which he bad been situated with re- spect to his companions, of his circumstances in the parish, and his object in coming to the fair, a step which be appeared on the whole to regret. As soon as he mentioned his name, I recollected having seen him here about a year ago ; but as I saw he did not discover me, I did not make myself known, intending on my return here to give him a surprise. Poor fellow! had I foreseen what was before him! and, perhaps, had he known who I was, he might have employed me as a witness in his favour.*
* How wonderfril are the ways of Providence ! ' said the rector, devoutly clasping his hands.
' Bat what is to be done ?' I asked.
38 RECOLLECTIONS OF IRELAND.
' Oh ! do try/ Nanny articulated, and looked in all our faces without saying more.
* I will gallop over to R ,' said Mr. Hastings.
' Oh ! thank yon/ Nanny cried most earnestly, but her look expressed more than her words.
' I will go instantly,' Mr. Hastings rejoined, putting his hand on the bell.
* No, Hastings,' said the rector, * it will do no good.'
* No good !— my dear sir, surely' —
' It would not,' said the curate, who had sat with his hands on his knees, and his head projected to- wards the fire, and his eyes intently fixed.
' And what then do you choose to have done, sir? ' the 3roung man demanded in an offended tone.
' Irwin must go himself,' said' the rector, with the calmness and decision that always characterized him ; * and I will not even propose that you or I should accompany him. He will not be suspected as a stranger, and therefore be far safer alone than if attended by any one from this house.' As he said this, he walked into the hall, and soon returned with the tidings that the night was still a dismal one, the wind very high, and rain falling in torrents. The curate rose from his chair, and holding his red hands over the fire, looked at Nanny's anxious counte- nance, and asked if she thought his coat would be dry?
* You need not think of putting it on yet, Irwin,' said the rector: \the night is so dark you would gain nothing in point of time by setting off now. In a few hours day will dawn, and then the storm may abate.'
' And what shall I do till then ? '
BECOLLECTIONS OF IBELAND. 39
' Rest.'
' Impossible ! ' I exclaimed ; and Mr. Hasting^s looked rather indignant.
* Indeed yoa mast try to sleep, or at least to rest/ said Nanny, who knew him better. * We will not let you linger a m9ment after the first streak of day ; I will open that npper sh otter, and watch for you.'
* I thank you. Miss Nanny ; I think we may de- pend that you will not let me sleep too long ; so yoa may all sit there and keep watch if you please, and I will settle myself here ; ' and he flong himself on a sofa.
We all agreed not to separate, and, drawing closer roand the 6re, held a short consultation, the result of whioh was, that it was expedient that Mr. Irwin's sudden departure should not be made known in the hoase* This being determined Nanny quietly left the room, and returned with all his wet habiliments, which she contrived to secure without observation, and they were spread before our fire-side. We then sat silent, leaving the weary traveller to rest. How present are the recollections of such seasons to us through after days ! But when Nanny knew that the servants had retired to rest, she again stole out, and brought back with her a small tray containing all the necessaries for giving him a cup of cofifee be- fore his departure. At length the watch ed-for streak of light was perceived on the edge of a murky cloud. The curate was aroused, the coflee poured out ; he was carefully muffled by sundry hands ; a blessing on his object was asked by the rector ; Mr. Hastings saddled his horse and led it to the door, and we watched him as long as his figure was the least to be discerned in the grey and cheerless twilight.
40 RECOLLBCTIONS OF IRELAND.
We mast tarn now to a different scene.
That eveninj^ as Peggy Morrow sat with her tios- band at his fireside, her open and very sagacioas coantenance wore an air of deep thought.
' Why then Rob,* she said, as if suddenly giving vent to her thoughts, ' isn't it an extraordinary thing^ all out, how that man came by his death?'
'What is in the woman's mind now?' said Bob, speaking of, rather than to, his wife, although there was no other listener present. ' She wo'nt rest any way until she knows the ins and outs of the matter.'
'Then the never a one of myself would care to know anything about it,' Peggy replied. ' But isn't it a queer thing that you who have seen so many men killed in your day, couldn't make out what it was that gave Pat Dogherty his death-blow ? '
'Indeed, then, I never thought about it; but what is it you are at now, woman V
* Couldn't you tell wfa'en you saw the body whether it was the blow of a stick, or a stone, or a fall, or what it was that killed the man?'
' It was a blow, sure enough, but not a blow of a stone, or the skin would be cut, neither was it a stick, but like something heavier.'
Peggy sat erect on her stool, and fastened her eyes on her husband.
' Did you search the place, Rob Morrow ? or will yon go off and search it to-morrow, or myself will be off by break of morn ? '
' There would be no use in that now, Pegg^ ; it could do poor John no good.'
' May be that's more than you can tell, Rob,' Peggy replied, looking very wise. ' However, that's neither here nor there ; but if you think it's all over with
BECOLLBCTIONS OF IRELAND. 41
John Tennisson^ may be you are mistaken. There will be another trial for it, I'm thinking, before he sets his foot on the gallows. Hav'o't I known all about it the whole of this blessed day ; didn't I know that there came down to his Reverence last night, in all the storm, a great man from the Castle of Dublin, and didn't bis Reverence make interest with him to save John, and send him off at peep of day to the magistrates ; and hav'n't I heard just now from Billy Nowlan, that s helper at the Glebe, how he is come back there again, and says that John won't be hung awhile longer ; and if matters are better made oat, perhaps he won't be hung at all ; and wouldn't that be the blessed news for the poor girl over there?'
* And what for would you have me search, Peggy V Rob demanded, who did not possess the sagacious mind of his wife.
'Just look for whatever you can find, and if yoa find anything you ever saw before, say nothing about it, biit just bring it home to me, and mind above all things, you let nobody see it, or it will be as much as your life is worth.'
* The blessed saints keep us from evil. Peggy Morrow, but it's yourself is able to frighten one ! Ah, then, woman, what is coqoe over you ? You spoke like one that knew something.'
' I don't know anything at all, but do my bidding, Rob dear, and you'll have my blessing, and more than mine.'
* And if I stay from work, what will the master say?'
* If you make a good day's work where you are . going, it's himself will be proud of it, and if you start with the first light you will be back time
42 RBCOLLECTIONS OF IRELAND.
enongh to make half a day ; and if yoa are no wiser than before yoa went, we mast make an excase for yon.'
* Well, Peggy, yoa are a woman all oat ; bat mind and waken us early;' and throwing himself on his bed, Rob slept antii his wife, who had retained her place by the fire, shook him awake, and dispatched him upon his mission.
Peggy had calcalated the time of his retam; but though aware that it could not be until a certain hour, she had been in a state of excitement which prevented her from finding any occupation, so that she had only managed to sweep her cabin floor half oyer when that hour arrived, and was stooping in a listening attitude, her apron tucked over on one side, the besom suspended in her hand, and her eye di-> rected to the door, when her husband's step ap- proached it.
Morrow shut the door, and drew close to his wife, who looked in his face with an air that shewed she expected to hear his search had not been unpro- ductive.
* Peggy, woman,' said the simple man, ' I believe I'll have no more to do with you.'
'What have you found?' asked Peggy, breath- lessly, and unheeding her husband's superstitious suspicions. ' Have you found >-— .' She stopped as if fearful of pronouncing the word.
' Put your hand down my back, and you will get what I found,' he replied ; * a fearful thing it is to have about one, the holy Mary keep us from evil. Amen.'
Peggy put her hand down the back of his waist- coat, and a scream both of terror and pleasure was
RECOLLECTIONS OF IRELAND. 43
bursting^ from her lips as she drew up a short, thick whip-handle, heavily loaded with lead.
'The blessed saints and angels be praised!' she exclaimed, falling on her knees, while the singular caase of her thanksgiving lay on the ground before her. * I knew it. I knew it. I dreamed about it the night before last, and it has been in my mind sleep- ing and waking ; I knew he took it to the fair that morning.'
'Aye, it was that, sure enough, that gave Pat Dogherty his death-blow,' said Morrow. ' No one that saw the black mark on his temple but could tell that, and not a man in the parish but could swear to the owner of it.'
* Don't let it lie on your floor, any way, Rob Mor- row,' said Peggy, in a voice which the simple man now listened to as to one of inspiration.
•What am I to do with it, Peggy, avourneen?'
* Put it up where it was before ; it was well yoa had the wit to hide it there,' she added, at the same time reinserting the awful instrument in its former concealment. * Go your way, now ; never stop nor stay till you get to the master ; don't say a word to any one ; not to the servants, nor the company, nor even to Miss Nanny, only to himself; you'll know what to say when you see him for it's not lucky to be talking about it here.'
Morrow accordingly soon presented himself at the Glebe, lounged about till he caught a glimpse of the Rector, claimed an audience, and was ad- mitted.
Not long after, his wife, too, came there and asked for me, ostensibly to receive some directions about poor Kate Conolly, who was very ill, but in reality to
44 RECOLLECTIONS OF IRELAND.
impart intelligence, wbicb almost alarmed while it pleased me.
She thoaghtl had 'more courage than Miss Nanny/ and she came to consult with me on the subject of ber husband's visit to the Rector. No sooner bad Morrow gone to him than she feared tbe business would be mismanaged. A mode of conducting it had occurred to ber energetic mind, but she. feared to ex- cite suspicion by seeking an interview with him jast after her husband bad obtained one. This was the reason of her asking for me, and I found the Rector most willing to co-operate in tbe sagacious plan wbicb she had devised.
Few things can be more painful to a properly-dis- posed mind than to be compblled to convict capitally a fellow creature. In tbe lower ranks of tbe Irish, an informer, prosecutor, or even witness is almost always regarded with abhorrence. Brian Toole, al- though he retained a strong party of adherents, now felt that such were the sentiments entertained for him. Kate Connolly's case obtained general com- miseration, and though in the days of prosperity few would have lamented tbe death of the heretical and envied John Tennisson, yet when that event was ac- tually decreed, a general lament for the young and unfortunate couple was heard in every direction.
The feelings of O'Toole however must be caused more by inward suffering than outward reproach; for whatever might be thought^ nothing was said ; yet he seemed to move among his neighbours like one who was the object of their scorn or dread ; by nature endowed with a large share of audacity, he now trembled at trifles, and fearing the ill-will of his neighbours he restrained the natural violence of his
RECOLLECTIONS OF IBELAND. 45^
temper towards every one bat his wretched wife. He seldom went to any work, but lounged about all day, or dozed, half intoxicated, before the fire — an object of horror to her and to others.
The evening on which I introdnce oar readers to bis cabin, Brian sat leaning as usual over the fire; his unhappy wife withdrawn a little behind him with her arn[is rolled up in her apron seemed glad to avoid his sight, and Peggy Morrow standing as nearly before him as she could, kept her steady, determined eye fastened on the gloomy countenance of the man who evidently writhed beneath her looks and words.
She was relating a circumstance which I have often beard did actually take place in Ireland, and which perhaps may be known to many who read it here. * And that was the end of poor Ned Owens,' said Peggy, *" I'll tell you the whole story, Mrs. Tople/
' We want to hear nothing about it ; ' Brian growled out.
^ Ned, you know, was a soldier, Mrs. Toole,' she went on, ' and he was quartered in the town of Cork, along with Hugh Delany, who belonged to another regiment that was going off somewhere beyond the seas : Ned and Hugh had been old friends, and it was said Hugh was to marry his sister, who lived close by the town, for it was Ned*s own place. Well, Hugh's regiment was to embark, and the night be- fore he and Ned, and a comrade of his, met together in the public-house ; Ned and his comrade had some drink, and they quarrelled, and as Hugh knew he was very warm he was afraid mischief would be done ; he could not stay with them, however, as he wanted to take leave of Ned's sister that evening ; 80 he contrived to take his bayonet away, and thought
48 RECOLLECTIONS OF IRELAND.
he would tell some of his friends to give it to hioi next morning. Bat as he was coming home who should he meet bat Ned's comrade, and this man being both drank and angry, fastened a quarrel on Hugh, and the end of it was that Hugh was provoked beyond bearing, and gave him a blow with the bayo- net he had in his hand, and the man fell dead on the spot : it was a lonely place, a little way out of the town. Hugh got away as quick as he could, and never thought more of the unfortunate bayonet ; and his regiment was marched off at day-light, and so he never heard a word more of the matter till he came back a few years afterwards.
' The first thing he did then was to inquire for the young woman he wished to marry, and he was told that she had died of a broken heart, grieving for her brother. ' What happened her brother? • said Hugh ; but his heart turned like a stone.
^ ' Oh,' says one, ' sure he was hanged for the murder of his comrade, who was killed the very night you left this, after Ned and he had been quar- relling, and Ned's bayonet was found beside him. Ned denied it with his dying breath, but the people said he was hardened, for there was his bayonet, and he could not tell how it got there.' *
'So you see, Mrs. Toole,' Peggy added, 'the inno- cent suffered for the guilty ; but which do you think suffered most, Mrs. Toole? Hugh or the man who died in his stead ? '
Toole could not stand the appeal, but starting up with a face distorted with contending passions, would have fiang the stool on which he had been sitting at his tormentor's head, but she held him with her pow- erful arm.
RECOLLECTIONS OF IRELAND. 47
' Sit down, sit dowD, man alive/ she said, with mach composore, ' sit down, I meant no offence to you ; I was only saying that one who lives guilty is more miserable than they who die innocent — that was all. And so, Mrs. Toole, I jast told yon that story to shew that if it hadn't heen for the bayonet no one could ever have said how the poor soldier came by his death. And now that reminds me of it, Brian, wasn't it an odd thing that no one ever made oat what it was gave poor Pat-Dogherty his death- blow ? The people say it wasn't like the blow of a stone, and yet the boy that's to be hang for it had nothing with him baring this : I saw yoa all three setting off, and I'll swear he hadn't so mach as a stick, nor when he was taken up had he anything either: and now that brings it back to me, Brian, yoa had that great loaded whip of yours that wanted the lash, with you that morning — ^what did you do with it ? '
Toole's knees knocked together, but before his trembling lips could utter, the policemen, who, with. the rector and Mr. Hastings were stationed at the back entrance, appeared at the appointed signal — ' What did yoa do with it ? ' and the wretched man, whose previous state of mind deprived him of all self-possession, fell at the rector's feet, and offered to confess all if his life would be spared.
' I cannot make yoa any promises/ said the rector, whose dignity of form, and front bearing the stamp of rectitade, contrasted strongly with the miserable suppliant at his feet, ' but a timely confession will assuredly aid you in preparing to think of meeting^ sooner or later, that Judge whom no one can de^ ccive.'
48 RBCOLLBCTIONS OF IRELAND.
' If yon will come with me then into that room/ said Toole, in a more composed and determined manner, ' I will tell it to you in private/
Two rooms leadings one into the other joined the kitchen, in which they were : in the farther room was a door which opened to the fields at the back of the hoase: the rector instantly crossed the first of these rooms, and, at Toole's desire, had stepped oyer the threshold of the inner one, when he turned his head— jdst in time-*foi' the traitor who followed him had caught tip a spade, which he ^probably knew was there, and had it suspended, ready to strike, in- tending, I suppose, when he had effected this deed of vengeance, to trust to his speed in running, and the confusion of the moment, for his escape.
Possessed of much personal strength, the rector grasped the handle of the spade, and called for help, which being at hand the wretched man was secured.
Still perfectly calm and^evincing no marks of anger against the man who had aimed at his life, the rector made Mr. Hastings remain with him, and dismissing the much more irritated policemen, told Toole that although he had just forfeited his life by a fresh act of YJolence he was willing to pardon him, and to forbear to prosecute, if be were still willing to make retribution for his past acts, and to confess all that be knew respecting Dogherty's death.
Self-preservation was all that the wretched man now thought of, and sinking on the side of the bed he glanced round to see that all the policemen were withdrawn, and then murmured in a husky tone — * I had no intention of hurting Pat Dogherty — wJiy should I ! we were always fViends : but I was angry that he let the Orange fellow get away, and I wanted
BBCOLIJKITIONS OF IRBLAND. 4d
kim to tarn baek with me and overtake faim; ha would not, aod when he tannted me, I lost all pa^ tience, and strack him a blow with the whip-handle, hot I did not think to do what I did/
'J>id he apeak afierwavde?' said the rector, in a flolemn tone.
The man looked np in hie faee for the fint timet and vttered, with peeaiiar emphasii, the word — 'Speak?' — ^then looking down, he said, ^ No, he didn% hnt he gave me a look thaf s in my mind and befiMV my eyes night and day ever since ; I went to lilt hkn upj' he added, as if having once opened his lips it relieved him to speak on, ' Bat when I saw that look, I dropped him again ; the blood sprang to bis month, but it stepped there ; he was dead in half a minate.'
* And what did yon do then ? '
' I threw the whip down into the thickest briars, and ran back and told the people/
* Bat why did yon lay it to John Tennisson's chati^e?*
* Who else weald I lay it on?' Toole demanded, raastng momentarily the heavy lid from an eye wheaoe the desire of revenge still shot a reviving
' And so yon bore witness against an innocent man,' said Mn Hastings, * knowing yourself to be the OMifdef er ! '
This speech darkened into deeper gloom the dark eosntenanee of the person it was addressed to : and the appearance of the policemen who were to carry him away inished the impression. From thenceforth his Kpe were closed, so far as confession or retriba- tien was concerned. His look, instead of being
Jawabt, 1840. £
50 RECOLLECTIONS OF IRELAND.
timid or terrified, became sallen : aa air of dogged resolution sat on his brow. Before the magistrate to whom he was taken he steadily denied his know- ledge of Dogherty's death, farther than he had wit- nessed to at the trial. He refused to acknowledge the confession he had made to the rector, and de- clared that he, Mr. Hastings, and the policemen were ail forsworn, and were in a league to reficae one of their own party.
But little now remains to be told. Some time after the event recorded above, Nanny and I walked over to Kate Connolly's house. It was a fine, clear, sun-shiny morning in the middle of autumn. As we approached it we saw her old grandmother seated on the grass-bank that bounded a small field in its front. Nanny touched my arm and said, * Look, poor old woman, she is in one of her bad tempers. When- ever anything is going on in her house which vexes her, and yet which she cannot, put an end to, she goes and sits there : and once she got the rheuma- tism by sitting there on a rainy day, because Kate was doing something she thought she should have known she did not wish her to do/ As she spoke we were beside the house; and Nanny receiving scarcely any answer to her salutation, entered it wUhout ceremony.
There we found Kate Connolly and the rescued John Tennisson. Neither of them certainly had as fine complexions as they once possessed, and both looked altogether very much as persons who had been and were similarly situated might be supposed to look. But there was a subdued and peaceful ex- pression on their countenances, which could not fail to strike any one who had known them before they
RECOLLECTIONS OF IRELAND. 51
bad been called to experience such heavy trials ; a look which probably indnced Nanny, as she g^ve me ber arm on quitting the hoase, to say, with a smile of sweetest meaning, ** For a little moment have I for- saken thee, bat with great mercies will I gather tbee«"
A coapie of weeks passed away, and the time of my departure drew near: the good rector was at- tacked by a severe cold, and Nanny kept him rigidly confined to thei drawing-room, lest he should indis- creetly pnrsae bis nsnal custom of speaking to the poor people from the open window of his stndy. One day the hero of my simple story desired an audience,' and certainly seemed a little confused on finding tt was not to be a private one : bad we been aware of bis object, I mast premise that we should have with- drawn. He came to inform the rector, that though Kate's health was now restored, he thought her strength was by no means equal to support the con- stant annoyance to which her grandmother's unplea- sant disposition and feelings subjected her; that he bad, therefore, engaged a girl to live with the old woman and attend to her, and considered it expe- dient that their marriage should take place at once, aod Kate be established in her own quiet abode.
The rector was quite of his opinion, for he said he saw no use of unnecessary procrastination ; but, looking rather earnestly at poor John, he added —
* I suppose then, John, your mind has undergone no change on this subject?'
The young man coloured, and then grew pale. For once, at least, Nanny and I were not pleased with the rector; but after a pause he answered.
* However / might have changed, sir, my promise WM passed, and unless Kate had changed it would
E 9
52 RECOLtBCTtONS OF IRELAVD.
have made no differeoce in this matter ; bat as re- gards my feelings for her, my mind has never, never changed, and sare I am it never will— oar trials have only deepened them much, much more ; and I think I conld scarcely have rejoiced that my life was spared, if I knew we were to be separated. Bat at the same time, sir, I confess, that if I had known as mach of what real religion is, two or three years ago, I would never have thoaght of marrying one who was not of the same faith and the same sentiments as myself/
' Well, John, I do hope Kate is in heart of the same sentiments. I know her mind underwent a great change during her illness, and I believe she is no longer the light<minded, and in many respects careless girl, she was.'
Poor John attempted to speak, bat his feelings overcame him, and he was obliged to withdraw.
' Ah ! ' said Nanny, ' I know what a straggle it must be for any Christian person to think of marry- ing one whom they are not convinced is altogether the same.'
Mr. Hastings rose and walked to the window, and I said, I supposed llennisson's uneasiness arose from his intended wife's being a Roman Catholic.
* Yes,' said the rector, * that is all ; ' and he smiled most unaccountably, when T expected a grave look and a solemn shake of the head ; and to my farther perplexity he added, smiling still more, ' Poor fel- low, he deserves to suffer for his incaution and error in the beginning of this matter.'
Well, notwithstanding the little cloud that thus hovered over the approaching bridal, we really were quite a merry party that morning, as, dressed in suit-
RECOLLECTIONS OF IRELAND. 53
able ooBtnrae we assembled in the window to watch the progress of the groap, by whose moTements oars were regalated. As they approached the eh arch we sallied out thither, and after the compliment of at- tending ber wedding we were aboat to withdraw on tbe conclusion of the ceremony, when the impressive ▼oice of tbe rector stopped as. A short bat most applicable charge was then delivered to the yoang couple, which he possibly designed to be a warning to others, lest it might be sapposed he sanctioned such intermarriages as the present. Altboagh it was not all in this strain, we felt for tbe bridegroom on the occasion ; bat Kate seemed far less distressed, and the rector wonderfully careless of her feelings. All the apparent mystery of this was, however, re- TCftled, when, with a look which it is not possible to attempt describing, he annoaneed the intention of Kate Connolly, otherwise Tennisson, then and there to declare her recantation of the errors of Popeiy, and publicly to profess the Protestant religion. We were all so astonished that the amaze of the bride- groom almost escaped observation ; even Nanny had been kept in ignorance.
But that evening we walked ap,'by special invita* tioBy to the farm«'house which had been one cause of the late troables, and which was now pretty well filled by a very respectable and orderly party, for whose entertainment Mrs. Tennisson — looking almost as well as the first day I saw her as Kate Connolly — was officiating at a very long tea-table ; and having deputed the bridesmaid to supply her place, she followed us out to the open air, and there replied to Nanny's interrogatories respecting her singular seeresy.
54 RECOLLECTIONS OF IRELAND.
' I neTer was a Papist in heart, Miss Nanny ; and long ago I woald have left the mass, bat from the time I began to think that John and I fancied each other, I resolved it never should be said I turned Protestant to get him, or that he had anything to do with it ; but when I thought it was all over with us bothy I could not die easy till I had spoken the truth that was in my mind, and I sent for his reverence on purpose, and told him I wished to die a Protes- tant, but he would not let me speak of it just then, because my poor grandmother was hard enough on me without that, and he thought me too ill to bear more : and he told me the first object was to seek to know that my heart was changed and my sins for- given ; and indeed Miss Nanny I was so taken up with this, that I did not think it was so much conse- quence whether I was eon«i£?ereef to die a Protestant or a Romanist, and so the days passed over till we heard that there was hope for us yet, and then I told his reverence, that iC God was still so good to us, and that John came back, I would never let him be brought into trouble any more about me, but make it clear to all that I changed of my own free will, and that too when it was all one to me whether I did so or not/
The next Sunday the reetor, who had never since that which immediately followed the unhappy Dogh- erty's death alluded to the distressing circumstances of this little parish history, preached a very beauti- ful, and rather applicable sermon, from the words with which I shall close it : '' Keep innocency, aAd, do the thing that is right, for that shall bring a man peace at the last.'' '
55
FOR THE NEW YEAR.
Thb opening of another year Has dawned npon the view ; The rapid chariot wheels of time Begin their coarse anew.
With swiftest glance the mind surveys The days of former years ; And each event that mark'd their coarse Like some past dream appears.
What mingled shades of joy and grief Their varying scenes anfold ; The history of each passing year Seems like a tale that's told*
Days, months, and years have come and gone.
Their rapid coarse is past ;
Bat in that coarse they hasten on
One solemn hoar — the last.
Oor days are swifter than a post, They fade like shades of even. And yet a vast importance hangs On every moment given.
They fly, but what a weighty charge Oar passing moments bear, They waft oar inmost thoughts to heaven, And stamp the record there.
J.J* Vj*
56
THE CHURCH AS IT OUGHT NOT TO BE.
'Fib! fie! naaghty Charlotte Elizabeth!' says the Leeds Intelligencer of BecembeT 7, when condescend- ing to dissect the remarks we felt oarselTcs boand to make on Dr, WoIfTs recent ' Journal/ Naughty people must not be allowed to sit in judgment on their own case ; but in this free England the naughtiest person, yea, even a * Lady Reviewer/ may put In a defen- sive plea against any charge, and subpoena witnesses on her behalf. We do not, however, intend to enter the lists with the Gentleman Reviewer of Leeds ; we will merely say that we do not retract or regret a syllable of what was written in our afore-mentioned article : neither shall we follow the advice so good- humouredly given by our truly dear and truly hon- oured friend, Br. Wolff, in his pleasant letter to the editor of the Christian Observer ; where adverting to the same notice in ourMagaBine,he recommends our going to Oxford, and arguing the point with Messrs. Newman and Co. with a confident assertion, that if they be Papists, * which,' he parenthetically adds, ' they are not,' they will make Charlotte Elisabeth a Papist in five minutes. We would be sorry to stake our Protestantism on that ^ if,' although we are ready to admit that we are as Hkely to be converted to those gentlemen's views in five minutes as in five years. With regard to Br. Wolff, if there be a man on earth whom nobody can help loving^ he is that
THE CHUSCH AS IT OUGHT NOT TO BE. 57
mui* Dissent we may, from some of kis views ; but there is tliat in lus cbaiaeter whiefa, if a eritie dipped bis pen in acetic acid, to trace a rebuke for Joseph Wolff, would sweeten it to honey before it touched Ae paper. With this feeling we always speak of hnsy tbink of him, pray for faim ; and OTen if he were so inoculated with the virus of Fronde as to become the Teiy reverse of what he is, we should only bate the diamtfe the more, for bavini^ infected one we love so welL
BesideSy Br. Wolff is not in earnest when he rails at ladies : it is only a little of the native playfulness that always distinguished him. . Let any one torn over the leaves of his book, and see if one word in it lecnn oltener than that word ' Lady/ or with more unvaried proofs of. the endeared estimation in which he holda it* No, Dr. Wolff did not mean to scold us; but the Leeds Reviewer does: he taxes the ' unchristian English lady' with making ' a bit at the Poaeyites/ which be says, is ' as ill-judged as it is abortive.' Now whether it be abortive or no, we hope to make many such hits ; and if we fall short of our aim, the Puseyites must take the will for the deed; aa evidently they do when bestowing such a thumping on the naughty person whose attempt^ they say, proved abortive.
We are now going to give them the benefit of a leprinty in our pages, from a journal which has set forth with graphic skill the recent accomplishment of what they regard as a great step towards a ' return to tho ancient discipline of the church of England.' Wo copy it from the Staffardskin Gazette^ and if the contemptible puerilities of the thing provoke a smile of deiisiony let it be iHHrne in mind that it is by such
58 THE CHURCH AS IT OUGHT NOT TO BE.
crafty though childish devices Popery holds her em- pire oyer UDtoid millions : that it is a mighty ally to the flesh, where it wars against the Spirit : and that if by sach externals Popery can again entrap the admiring ' ^spectators * of these outward things, she will presently have a mighty weapon to wield against the true flock of Christ — the grand object of her ma-> lignity since first she tasted the cup that will keep her to the end of her appointed course '^ drunk with the blood of the saints, and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus/'
Let no one afiect to suppose that we apply these strong terms to any body of still professing Protes- tants; we charge them with nothing more than an unconscious instrumentality in the hand of that Ro*
mish power church we will never call it — which
when its cunning ends are answered by thus leading the people of England back to the externals of its own idolatrous forms of worship, will chain them to the stake for rejecting — ^as we surely trust they would — the spiritual abomination itself.
Here follows the paragraph : our readers may giake their own comments.
< Consecration of Christ Church, Skipton, Yorkshire. — On Wednesday, Sept. 25, the new church of Skipton, in Craven^ was consecrated by the Bishop of Ripon. The morning service was said by the incumbent of the new church, and the lessons were read from the lectern by the Rev. Hammoad Roberson. The Rev. W. Heald, vicar of Birstall, was the preacher. After the morning-service, the bishop consecrated the crypt and the church-yard. This church, built to meet the wants of an increasing population, and therefore an object of interest to all
THE CHURCH AS IT OUGHT NOT TO BE. 59
charchmen, is also an object of interest from tbe re- storation of primitive order which appears in its in- terior arrangements. The chancel is one-third the vhole length of the church, and is reached from the floor of tbe nave by an ascent of foar steps. On the north side of the topmost of these foar steps stands tbe palpit; on the south the lectern, whence the les- sons are read. In the centre of the topmost step stands a fixed faldstool, holding the Book of Common Pn^er turned tawartUtJie altar, so that tbe oflSciating clergyman, in saying all the morning and evening prayer, kneels on the step with his face towards the altar, Tbe sentences and exhortations are read and said from a low desk on the lowest step, looking towards tbe people. Half-way down the chancel on another step stand the altar rails. The altar itself is of stone, finely carved to correspond with the arcbitectare of tbe cbnrcb — ^the early English style. It is covered with a crimson cloth, the fringe of which bangs only an inch or two over tbe edge, leaving all the carving uncovered ; on it stand two massive wooden candle^ sticks, highly carved and richly gilded. In the south wall, within tbe altar rails, is fixed the primitive credence, on which to pl^ce the sacred vessels and sacramental elements previous to oblation. It is of carved wood, and covered with a cloth like that on tbe altar. The font stands under tbe tower, at the west end, which is open to the church. It is large enmigb for immersion, and is used by means of tbe water drain, which was made in all the original fonts, as in this. It is perhaps not generally known that tbe use of a basin (however ornamentally made in stone ware or otherwise) is peremptorily forbidden by tbe canons of the church of England ; those of
60 TBE CHURCH AS IT OUGHT NOT TO BE.
1571 desiring^ expressly that in all churches shall be nsed * fons non pelvis/ * the font not a basin ; ' and those of 1603 (canon 81) saying, ' We appoint that there shall be a font of stone in every charch and chapel where baptism is to be ministered ; the same to be set in the 'ancient nsnal places — in which only font the minister ehall baptize publicly.* The cover is of carved wood, a canopy set on early English arches; and it rises up off the font into the tower by means of a balanced weight above. The incumbent of the charch is the Rev. Daniel Parsons, lately curate of LoDgton, in the Staffordshire Potteries, before Long- ton was dismembered from the rectory of Stoke- upon- Trent. The admirable arrangements in the charch, by which the officiating clergy are enabled to obey the rubric, and retam to the ancient discipline of the Church of Enffland, are the results of the able snper- intendenee of Christopher Sedgwick, Esq. of Skipton Castle, without whose labours and money the town would probably have failed in raising the charch at all.'
Since the foregoing was in type, we have been told that an attaek on' as * alike uncalled-for and abusive,' has appeared in the 'Church Magazine*' We have not seen it: the only number of that perio- dical that ever came in our way happened to contain a tirade against the Rev. Hugh M'Neile, at once so ^fpiteful and so silly that we never wished to see more of it. We are content and happy to be abased In such company. But what have we done to merit this honourable distinction? We have merely de- clined, and counselled our Christian sisters to de- cline, that process' of blindfolding to which the dis«
THE CHURCH AS IT OUGHT NOT TO BB. 61
ciples of Paseyism matt' Aubmit. Wc dif earned Id its earliest manifestations the germ of popery, and slirank from the preliminary step of giving oar biblei into the hands of frail erring mortals like oorseJyei, to have this leaf torn oat, that leaf doabled down, and another commented upon as anthoritatively as tboag^h the Holy Ghost, v^ho originally inspired it, bad made a new and exclusive revelation to these men, whereby to unveil its hidden meaning, which we, at the peril of oar souls, were to receive with eqnal veneration and submission as we receive the first All this plainly menaced a return to the con* fessional, from which Christian ladies would, on many accounts, rather be excased ; and because we pro- claimed oar convictions and asserted our common right, yea daty, of bringing these modern apostles and their dogmas *' to the law and to the testimony/' which clearly condemn then^ we were rebuked as contumacioas schismatics, by sundry of the periodi- cals under the control of Oxford adherents, besides receiving a few letters of pungent reprimand, all, of amrtey anonymtnu. These things fully confirmed our original impression; and now, even since we sent the former remarks and extract to presk, we have seen enoagh of the two recently published additional volumes of ' Fronde's Remains,' to convince us that our very worst surmises fell far short of the reality of what these gentlemen aim at. The following few heads culled at random, may serve to afford our rea- ders a glimpse of the prospect opened to a church where such bare-faced popery is taught by a body of her ordained ministers, unreproved, or at least as yet unrestrained by their ecclesiastical superiors. Next month, God permitting, we will resume the subject.
62 THE CHURCH AS IT OUGHT NOT TO BE.
accepting as encourageinents whatever reproofs, scoffs and insults our brethren of the press may see good to level at us. Dr. Wolff says, ' Ladies should never be reviewers/ but his publisher thinks otherwise ; as, in addition to the two copies of the Journal for which we subscribed, a third was sent us, for the express purpose of being reviewed in the Christian Lady's Magazine, which we, as obliged to speak of it in some sort unfavourably, have honestly returned. Why should not ladies, writing for ladies, notlee books intended for ladies? Do our theologists denre 80 to '^ lead captive silly women," that they should not even be warned of their danger? But we hasten to lay before our readers a few brief notices of some remarkable assertions in these new volumes of Froude's Remains — and in the preface, an official folmination from the Oxonian Vatican.
Thomas k Becket, they maintain, was a saint and a martyr; and in his death exhibited evidence of pos- sessing that peace which God alone can give.
Every child knows that Thomas k Becket died in rebellion against his king on behalf of the pafial supremacy in England.
The reformed church of England, they say, has given birth to two martyrs, an archbishop and a king ; and that both these hlested saints died for episcopacy.
We thought the reformed church of England — ^re- formed under our young Edward — had given birth to above three hundred martyrs during the short and bloody rule of Mary ; but we suppose John Foxe is now in the English ' Index Expurgatorius.* The ex- ecution of Laud was a most unjustifiably wicked act. His suspension from office was clearly necessary to the maintenance of our ecclesiastical Protestantisni, but every Christian must abhor the butchery of a man
THB CHUBCH AS IT OUGHT VOT TO BE. 63
who certainly was willing to 4ie for bis conscientioas opinions. The regicidal atrocity of shedding the king's blood was a crime that no language can too strongly dcDonnce ; though it is straining a point to assert that Charles died for episcopacy. He fell a nctim to the yindictiTe arts of foreign Jesoits, from the fall adoption of whose abominable counsels he had shrank. After secretly promising at his mar- riage to roi^stablish Popery in England, Charles not only guaranteed to their Popish mother the sole care and controal of all his children anlil they should be thirteen years old, bnt ratified a farther clause in the agreement, stipulating that they should not even be suckled by Protestant nurses k He was a traitor to Protestantism, and the treason recoiled on his own head, though still to the eternal disgrace of his guilty subjects, who perpetrated the deed. We believe him to have repented, and that he died a patient viotim to a most horrible conspiracy : but not a' whit more for episcopacy than for autocracy.
Having canonized k Beeket, Laud, and Charles tlie First in their martyrology, the editors of course justify Froude in having called Bishop Jewell * an irreverent dissenter,' and in wishing * to have nothing to do- with such a set' as * Ridley and Co.' They distinctly warn us that we must choose between the ' fathers' and the * reformers,' for that these two sckoois are directly opposed: they positively assert that none but an especially ordained minister has power to perform the ^* miracle " of transforming Hbe sacramental bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ ; and here for the present we leave them to exult in their exclusive adoption, among ■omtnally Protestant bodies, of the doctrine of tran- sabsCantiation !
64
REQSNBRATION.
Tkey tktd Mmit iipoK ike Lord skaUrtnem their sirm0k; tkey skall fMwU up with wtMffs «# ^gU^; they $kmll run miul not to be wesry; fi»y skaU wulk mid not fiUnt. Isaiah xL 31.
T^i8 scripture xefen to tke eagle in old age, wtenall Its natural Tigoar kas failed, and its feathers fall oSt (as they do annually) leaving it stripped and bare. A change then takes pkee ; its strength is renewed ; its plnmage is restored, and with extended wings it moonts np, (the eagle soars higher than any oAer hird)'and fixes its broad gane upon the son in the fall meridian of its splendonr.
Every candidate for heavenly glory mnst nndeigo a marvelloas change. Hnman nature most be stripped— self-rigbteonsnessy selMependenee, sell- consequence most be thrown off, before a new cover* ing can be put on. Then the youth of the believer is '' renewed like the eagle's.*' Psalm cili. 5. Then he sees ** the son of righteousness arise with healing in his wings,'' (Mai. iv. 2,) ** and beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, as changed into the same image^ from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord." 2 Cor. iu« 18.
The Lord most see his image in every child of his before they can be admitted into the heavenly gloiy* Nothing impure can enter into His presenoe^ who is of
BBGENSRATION. 65
porer ejes than to behold iniqaity. '* Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.**
Tbe refiner most carry on his work. The vessel most be fitted for the master's use. So hardened are aJl in nature's cormption, that an Almighty work is necessary to soften and sididiie that nature ; and though painful the process which separates the dross frott tbe paro'Uielal, we shall yet praise God for it. A God of love trusts no bands but bis own in beating tbefireof purification for bis precioas metal, and He sees to it that nothing Is lost. It is cleansed, sepa- rated, not burned. His peculiar treasure is in the fomaee, and bis promise is giyen, ^* Fear not : for I have redeemed thee, I have called tbee by thy name ; tboQ art mine. When tboa passest through tbe wa« ters, I will be with thee ; and tbnrougb tbe rivers, they sball imt overflow thee : when thou walkest through the (be, tbou sbalt not be burned ; neither ahall tbe flame fciadie upon thee.. For I am the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour.'^ Isaiah xllil.
We aie broi^bt through sundry and ibaoifold cbsogesdmiiKg this process, softietimes in the waters, sonetinea itt the fires, until we are seven times pori* fi«ii. Be it f». Tbe Lord sees '' tbe need be." Let
4
OS trust In bfti in all our changes, and praise him for cboQibig OS, and causing us to approach onto him, (PMlttlxv.t,) Ibougbit be in a furnace of affliction. Tfaq^ only «eed fear who glide smoothly down life*s soific^ exempt fiiom such changes. ** Becaase they bave no changes, therefore they fear not God." Psalm ir. 19; Ease %Bd prosperity was M oaVs dangerous
^'Moab iMith bee» at ease from bis youth, and be
Jamvamy, 1849. F
66 REQBNERATION.
bath settled on his lees, and hath not been emptied from vessel to vessel, neither hath he gone into cap- tivity : therefore his taste remained in him, and his scent is not changed/' Jer. xlviii. 11.
In our natural state we are far from God ; aliens, having no right, no claim, to a heavenly inheritance. We were born of a degenerate race, the children of wrath. With the first dawn of reason we give evi- dence of this trath by oar unholy tempers. Pride, passion, intemperate desires are seen in an infant before it has learnt to articnlate a word. And as he grows, these evil dispositions, if unrestrained, grow with his growth and strengthen with his strength, and finally render him more fit for the kingdom of Satan than the kingdom of God. How necessary, then, is that process which changes our vile affections ! We ought to rejoice, inasmuch as we are counted worthy thus to be led on to higher things than in our natural state we can ever attain. ** Beloved, think it not jitrange concerning the fiery trial which is to try yon : but rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings ; that when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy.'' 1 Peter iv. 12.
By the operation of the Holy Spirit we become spiritually-minded.. A new spirit is given to us.* ** If any man he in Christ he is a new creature : old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new. And all things are of God, who hath recon- ciled us to himself by Jesus Christ.'^ 2 Cor. v. 17, 18.
By means of this regenerating process, there is a mutual recognition between God* and his people, ''I will bring the third part through the fire, and will refine them as silver is refined, and will try them as gold is tried : they shall call on my name, and I will
RBGENESATIOK. 67
hear them : I will say, It is my people : and they shall say, The Lord is my God/^
Now, they wait on the Lord, and their strength is renewed. They wait as children looking np to their Father, — as servants depending upon their Lord ; they wish to do him service ; they listen for instrac- tioo. ** Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth ; " '* Lord, what won Idest thou have me to do?'' And when employment is pointed out, they do it with all their might, not as men-pleasers, but in the laudable ambition of pleasing God ; believing themselves to be '^ his workmanship, created in Chrbt Jesus unto woodworks, which God hath before ordained, that we should walk in them.'' Eph. ii. 10. They do not goslowly and reluctantly about their work. The Lord baying made them willing in the day of his power, to do him service is their chief delight ; therefore*^ thoy shall ran and not faint." The Christian works the will of God, who *' work'eth in him to will and to do.'' We are not Christians if we produce no fruits of the Spirit. We are plainly told that if we have not the Spirit of Christ we are none of his. Rom. viii. 9, 1^, 16. And this is '^ the spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father." We then know oorseives to be the children of God, for ''the Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God."
As certainly as we are led on foy this Spirit, our asphing thoughts are brought down, and every high thing which exalts itself above the free and finished work of our salvation. Nothing of ours can be niixed with it. ^ For by grace are ye saved through ^^9 a«id that not of yourselves ; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest any man shoold boast.^ Eph.ii.
F 2
08 REGENERATION.
8, 9. Rom. iii. 20—28. '* If Abraham were justified by works he hath whereof to glory, bot not before God.'' Rom, iv. 2 ; ix. 9 ; xi. 6.
We find a striking instance In St. Panl himself, of the truth of this doctrine, which be so strongly incal- cates. By the sovereign grace 6f God he was turned from the work in which he once boasted. In the foil career of his zeal, on his way to Damascus, he was suddenly arrested. For without measuie he bad " persecuted the church of Christ and wasted it.'' But when the scales fell from his eyes ; when be saw Jesus, the only Saviour, and beard that be was a chosen vessel appointed to save him, be oould say— '^ I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who bath enabled me, for that he counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry ; who was before a blasphemer, and a persecutor,' and injurious; but I obtained mercy, because I did it ignorantly in unbelief.^'
All who act in opposition to the work of God are, as St. Paul was, ignorant and unbelieving. We are no sooner brought to the knowledge of the Sarionr than we feel within ourselves a strong desire to do something to his glory— something to confirm our- selves in Lis service.
Before this divine revelation to St. Paul, be was a proud, self-righteous Pharisee, not only trustii»g in his work of wasting and making havoc of the cbareb, but glorying in it. How great then was the cbange which brought him low at the feet of that very Jesus whom he persecuted ! His knowledge of such on- merited favour caused him to leave on record a full and genuine confession of his own unwortbiness. ** This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acoepta- tion, that Christ Jesus came into the world to saye
RBGSNERATION. 69
sinaen, of whom I am chief. Howbeit, for this caaae I obtained mercy, that in me first Jesas Chrbt might shew forth all long-sofferingy for a pattern to them wlucb aboald hereafter believe on him to life ever- lastiBg." 1 Tim. i. 12—16. And again, '' I am the least of the apostles, that am not meet to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. B«t by the grace of God I am what I am : and his iprace which was bestowed upon me was not in ?ain, bvt I laboured more abundantly than they all ; yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me." 1 Cor. XV. 9, 10. This grace became the apostle's sole dependanoe : ** The grace of our Lord was ex- ceeding abundant^ with faith and love, which is in Chriat Jesus.''
It is the same with every servant of God. Their faith worketh by love. They would gladly spend and be spent in the service of so dear a Master. Xbey neither work for life, nor for reward: being saved by grace they are sore of their future inherit- ance, which they well know that no work of theirs covld have earned, nor price of theirs could have pur- chased in part or in. whole. *' It cost more to redeem a soul, therefore they must let that alone for ever."
They love Qod, because he £rst loved them, and g»ve himself for them. Having laid hold on this aaobor of their soul, sure and stedfast, their anxious eij is BO longer, ''What shall I do to be saved?" BmU What can I do to glorify my God ? How can I prove myself hiS' willing, loving, obedient servant?
fit. Pan! tells of his labours, his trials, his perse- eslioos and privations, not as the means of his sal- fatKND. He glories in none of these, though if any glory in the flesh, he, more than others, had
70 REGENERATION.
abundant caase, according to his own statement. 2 Cor. xi. 22—28.
But, he adds, '* If I mast needs glory, I will glory in the things which concern my infirmities." Why does he glory in these ? He gives his reason — '* Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me." 2 Cor. xii. 9.
This holy apostle, whose labours were more abun- dant than all the others, trusted not in any thing which he ever did, or could do, while he rejoiced in his own insufiiciency, since he was thereby led to rest on Christ, in whom is the power of God unto the salvation of all who believe.
He believed the Holy Spirit's declaration — *' My grace is sufficient for thee ; for my strength is made perfect in weakness.'' And having realized its truth, he affirmed — *' When I am weak, then am I strong.''
With the beautiful prayer of this highly-favoured apostle, I shall conclude this short meditation for all who read it: — *^ For this cause I bow my knees unto the Father pf our Lord Jesus Christ, of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named, that be would grant you, according to the riches of his glory, to be strengthened with might by his Spirit in the inner man ; that Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith; that ye, being rooted and grounded in loye, may be able to comprehead, with all saints, what is the breadth, and lei^t,h, and depth, and height; and to know the love of Christ, which pastseih kqQ«^; ledge, that ye might be filled with all the fuiness of God. Now unto him that is able to do exoeeding abundantly, above ail that we ask or think, aooordiog to the power that worketh in us, unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus, tbrougbont all ages^ world without end. Amen." S. M.
71
A CHAPTER FROM THE LIFE OF A YOUNG
CLERGYMAN.
No. IL
The disappoiDtment of the Grey family at this sad falliDg off in their expectations respecting Horace Fleetmore, ihay be more easily imagined than de- scribed. Charles did not venture a glance at his sister; be dreaded to read in her speaking counte- nance the vexation he knew she mast feel. Anna Grey's naturally correct taste and excellent jndg- meDt bad been improved and ooltiTated by many advantages and constant exercise; and the same qoick perception that enabled her so well to appre- ciate M that was good, made her the more keenly alive to whatever was unseemly or defective*
We are said to be blind to the faults of those we love* Afibction has, however, often the directly con- trary effect: it renders us sensitive, even to a painful de^ee, of the slightest flaw in that which is dear and precious to us, and which we are ankious should be Hdmired and valued by others. It is with the moml as with the physical state of our friends. If tlieeyebave diminished, though ever so slightly, in its wonted lustre — if the cheek be a shade more pale -or that a cloud rest on the brow — what is so prompt to mark the change as the quick eye of aftction? Thus with the defects of those who are
72 LIFE OF A YOUNG CLER6TMAK.
doar. • We are trembliag^y sasoeptible and dear- •sighted to trifles which eseape the notice of indif- ferent observers.
In the present case, however, it needed not the re- gard which was entertained for the young clergyman by the occupiers of Mr. Grey's pew to render his errors apparent. It was grievous, even to the moat uninterested listener, to hear a fine voioe, so effec- tive in private, rendered useless by want of manage- ment : like some sweet and harmonious instrument in the hands of one who understood not'how to draw forth its inelody. Those who were at a little distance from the pulpit lost at least half of every sentence, from the way in whieh the sound was dropped at the end ; and thus the discourse was without connexion, and unintelligible to them. Even when close to the preacher, it was difficult to follow him without a painful straining of the attention.
In the next pew to that filled by Mr. Grey's family was an old gentleman in spectacles, whose fine head, the silver hair that fell on his shoulders, and the benevolent expression that beamed in every featare, gave him a peculiarly venerable and attractive ap- pearance. Anna Grey had been struck by- tiie earnest devotion of his manner; she had experi- enced that delightfully cheering and stimulating in- fluence always produced by the consciousness that a sincere worshipper is near-*-that our humble breath- ings are ascending, and mingling with the efleolual fervent prayer which availetb much with Bim who has promised to be where two or three are gathered together. She had marked, too, with secret pleasure the benignant looks directed towards the young clergyman by the interesting stranger, and saw him.
LIFE or A YOU9G CLEmGYUAN. 73
when the teaU wii» givon out» place his open Btbie oil iiis knetfSy and afinuning ab altitude of earnest attention, remain with bis eyes rivetted on the preaefaer.
Bnt gradoaliy the look of intelli^at inteicst fsded avaj from his ooantenaooe. After some time it was plain liat his endeavoars to ' follow the diseomse were QnaTallingp; his ejes sank to the page before hkn» and fais mind was apparently soon oocupvcd with its eotttents* Jnst as this became endent to the aeately sensitive perception of poor Anna, her quick glance was arrested by two little beys who were seated not far from the old goitleman. The monotonoiis and angraceful action of Horace Fleet- motp bad caught the fancy of these little fellows, and seemed to afford them anbounded amasement, as well as an irresistible subject for mimicry. Under any other circamstances, the conduct of two ill*be- hared children could not have caused the annoyance she felt ; but as it was, her cheeks tingled with vexa- lion at their lidieulous, though reHiJy not much ex- i^gerated imitation of the young man's peculiari- ties. It was a relief when service was over. Mr* and Mrs* Grey returned home in their earriage, while Charles offiered his arm to his aister, and they pro- eeeded together on foot and in silence.
The sun ahone brightly while they were goijig to eburoh, but since then as great a change had taken place in the alxnospherQ without as in their feelings wUhin. Diurk clouds had gathered over head in threatening masses, and heavy drops began to fall. At last the rain came down with such violence, that the brother and sister w^e glad to take refuge under a covered archway that presented itself very oppor-
74 LIPK OF A YOUNG CLERGYMAN,
tuDeJy. Their example was followed by others, and soon their place of retreat was nearly fall.
Perhaps there are few more amnsing opportunities of observinj^ character than an archway filled with persons seeking shelter during a shower of rain. The different ranks, ages, and sexes of the motley group whom the same object has thus* thrown toge- ther— the fidgetty impatience of some at being de- tained in their progress — ^the quiet resignation of others: here a morose-looking individual wrapped up in sullen reserve— there a good-natured counte- nance, peering round with sympathising curiosity on his companions in misfortune ; the benevolence that prompts one to assist in wiping a dripping cloak, or help to furl a refractory umbrella, or perform some other little act of kindness towards his neighbour ; the selfishness that causes another to shrink away from the contact with damp garments, and eye askance each new intruder upon the already crowded space.
All these little amusing varieties in the human family would have interested Anna Grey at any other time ; but now her.mind was too painfkilly en- gaged to allow her to attend to the groups about her. She was roused, however, from her reverie by an observation made by some one near, and turning round, perceived the same venerable old gentleman in spectacles, who had attracted her attention in church. He had come in like the others to take shelter from the rain, accompanied by a friend, and both were now standing behind the brother and sis- ter, engaged in conversation.
* No one, at all events, can accuse our young preacher of bestowing too much pains on his man*
LIFE OF A YOUNG CLERGYMAN. 75
ner/ said one, 'the matter of his discourse mast ba?e been excellent, if we may jod^e by the fact of its having the benefit of his individual oare. There was only one slight drawback-^that of being on- intelligible. Strange enough to see so good-looking a young man so completely indifferent to his deli~ very ; there cectalnly was no attempt to set himself off; he must have very little vanity.'
' Personal vanity,* or a desire to ' set himself off/ as yoa say, would indeed be a most contemptible and unworthy motive for a minister of the gospel,^ replied the old gentleman in spectacles, ' but do you not think a man is bound to pay a certain attention to the externals of manner and action, in order the better to further the cause he advocates ? Surely this is not incompatible with higher and holier consi- derations.'
' Well, J c<mfe8s,' said the other, ^ when I see a person in earnest about the conversion and salvation of souls, I have no objection to find him careless ia regard, of these minor particulars. I hate a petite flutilre parson, and quite agree with the poet, when he says that affectation offends more
* Than in a churchman slovenly neglect
And xvstio coarseness would. A heavenly mind
May be indifferent to her house of day,
And slight the hovel, as beneath her care ;
B«tliow a body so fantastic, trim.
And quaint in its deportment and attire.
Can lodge a heavenly mind— demands a doubt.* '
'Now you are going into the contrary extreme,' said the old gentleman, ' an extreme no really pious and sincere clergyman would, I think, run any risk of falling into. His object is to win souls, and keep- ing that steadily in view, he will use every possible
76 LIFE OF A YOm?G CLEROYMAV.
means, and press into the service ev^ry lawfal expe- dient to accomplish his purpose* Tbis is sorely a case where the children of light may borrovr a lesson from the children of this world; and when the wisdom of the serpent should mingle with the gentleness of the dove. Oar Savioar told those be appointed to the ministry, that they were to be *^ fUhert of men/* an expressive phrase, which seems to me to imply that a certain recourse to baits or in- ducements is not forbidden* St. Paul speaks of having made himself all things to all men, that he might hy all means save some ; and he confesses to some of his converts, that he had caught them with guile. If it be the duty of all Christians to adorn the doctrines they profess, how much more is it that of a clergyman to beautify and render attractive what he so greatly wishes to recommend to his bearers. His own personal qualities, like every other good and perfect gift bestowed by God, shoold be used as talents in the service of the Giver, and not laid up in a napkin. How often does homan eloquence attract those to the house of God, who go not for spiritual instruction, but to regale their ears and gratify their taste, by what is nothing more to them than a very lovely song of one that hath a vsery pleasant voice. And as
Fools who went to scoff, remained to pray,
in many cases those who go only to admire the preacher, return savingly impressed with the truth be advocates.'
' I agree, with you, tbat, in this point of view^ elo- quence is to be cultivated, and natural gvaoes kn-
LIFE OF A YOUNG CLERGYMAN. 77
proved and sought af(er« But there is danger io all tbu external refining.'
' AJas! dear friend, what is there withoat danger in this fallen, eorrnpt state of things ? The onJy way to a^oid the snare in this, as well as in every thing else, is to keep the glory of God steadily in view, and to act with a single motive. A wise moderation too i» neeessafy ; extremes, even on the right side, are pitjadieial. For example, I would not hove a man, by over*pains and polish, render his manner moie attractive or striking than his matter, so as Io dislraot attention from the one to the other: bat I woaki have him avoid peculiarities whioh prodooe the same effect, in causing the object to be lost sight of* This last was surely the ease with our young preaclier this morning. A. glaring defect is as bad as a too elaborate beanty ; it arrests the attention upon the messenger instead of fixing it on the mes- sage* Jost as thongh you had to look throagh a pane of glass at some object outside; — were that glass soiled or disfigured, it would equally impede the clear perception of what should be seen through it, as thongh it were beautified by costly painting or oAer ileeoration. Besides, can negligence of manner and detftortment towards the King of kings and Lord of lords be justified, when, were a subject approach- ing an earthly sovereign, every word, and look, and expression, would be stodioasly rendered as accept- able as possible? How careful ^— ~-
' Yes,' interrupted the other spedcer in a sarcastic lone, 'and the polished exterior, and courtly phrase, and studied gesture would flatter the poor fellow- worm befoni whose throne we were bending: but remember the Lord seeUi not as man seeth ; for man
78 LIFE OF A YOUNG CLERGYMAN.
looketfa on tbe outward appearance, bat the Lord looketh on the heart.'
'Very troe/ rejoined tbe old gentleman mildly, 'the heart is the main point; and yet it has always appeared to me that the daty of a Aiinister of the gospel is somewhat different, or I sboald rather say, goes somewhat beyond that of a private Christian in this respect. The devotions of the latter are between him and his God, and if bis heart be right, the rest is comparatively unimportant. But what is the minis- ter of the gospel ? is he not an ambassador ? Now, an ambassador has tbe interests of two parties to consult and deal with, and if he discbarge his office wisely and faithfully, he must adapt himself to both. I venture, then, to say, that it is not enough for a minister in his sacred vocation to approve himself before the heart-searching God. He must take into consideration the other party with whom he has to do, and study to recommend himself to their favour, that he may with better success plead bis master's cause among them.'
* Perhaps you are right,' said the other. * At all events I so far agree with yon that if I knew any friend of our clergyman this morning, I should cer- tainly beg of him to give the young man a few bints as to the expediency of making himself intelligible at least ; and moreover I should take leave to insi- nuate, that his sermons would be just as effective without those regular oar-like strokes on the cushion which he deals so largely in. Seriously speaking, it is really a pity he should not have some one to give him a little advice. He seems a talented young man, and is evidently in earnest. But come, the rain is over ; it is time to proceed homewards.'
LIFB OF A YOUNG CLEBGTMEN. 79
The two gentlemen left the archway, and the bro- ther and sister exchanged looks. Both had hoard eveiy syllable of the foregoing conversation.
'Yes^' said Charles Grey, at length breaking silence, ' our dear friend most be told of the observa- tions made upon him ; it woald be on fair and ankiod to conceal what we have heard. He himself is evi- dently unaware of the unfortanate habits he has con- tracted. Upon yoa, dear Anna, the delicate task of pointing them out must devolve. Nay/ he added, seeing that his sister was about to remonstrate, while the blood mounted to her cheeks, ' I know what you would say — that I, his college companion and old friend, am the person to do this. But no ; a man will brook that from the lips of a woman, and espe- cially from her who stands to him in the relation you do to Horace, which might hurt his pride and wound his feelings from one of bis own sex. Besides, you will find a thousand gentle ways of softening this mortifying intelligence, which might not occur to me ; so do not shrink from your task. It is grievous to be obliged to give pain to those we love ; but when it is for their benefit, we must take courage and overlook the selfish consideration of the suffering it occasions to ourselves.'
M. F. D. (To be coniinued.J
80
WHAT IS LIFE?
Wbat is life— « gladsome beam, Glancingr o'er some frozen stream ; Then vanishing 'when clouds and storm The aspect of the skies deform r This is not life.
What is life— « rision fair. Now seen, now lost in empty air ; Like those delusive fires, whose light Gleams but to cheat the wanderer's sight } This is not life.
What is life—*' a dream, a jest," A short-lived mockery at best, A sound upon the passing gale Of revelry, where all is wail i This is not life.
What is life— a pilgrimage From helpless infancy to age ; One leap beyond, one fearful leap. And life expires in dreamless sleep 1 This is not life.
What is life— a night of gloom. Hopeless as the lonely tomb ) No star to cheer, no gladd'ning ray To prophesy of coming day f This is not life.
What is life— a period giv'n
To man, to win his way to heav'n,
Array'd in arms of 1ight» to braive
The pow'rs of darkness— hell— the grav^
And LivK through him who died to saveT
This, this is life.
S.
Betiuh) of iSoo&si^
THE TEMPTATION OF OUR BLESSED LORD IN THE WILDERNESS; or an Exposition of Matt. iv. 1 — 11. By the Rev. Daniel Bagot, B.D.
. Minitter of St, Jameses Chapel, Edinburgh, and Chaplain to the Right Hon. the Earl of Kilmorey. JohnstoDe; Whittaker.
In all attempts of Satan to undermiDe tbe Christian faith, he invariably seeks to instil some wrong notion as to the person and office of oar Lord Jesus. Well does the adversary know that even a breath of air passing between the soperstructare and its founda- tion endangers the former more than a thousand hard blows on its own frame. From the earliest age of the church this has been the grand point of attack ; and while some have willingly lent themselves to do the devil's work, in the pride or malignity of their hearts, sot a few have unconsciously assailed the integrity of that faith for which they ardently desired to con- tend, by oommitting to the press the result of a su-
JAXVAftT, 1840. G
82 REVIEW OF books:
perficial inqairj into the deep things of God. It is with a view to correct the evil in some recent works of the better class, that Mr. Bagot publishes the small but weighty volame before us. He reduces to four heads the principles that he illustrates. First, the identification of our Lord's human nature with ours ; secondly, that it was not necessary to such identifi- cation that he assume our nature as disorganized and polluted by the fall ; thirdly, that our Lord was per- fectly free from every inclination to sin, whilst cap- able, as man, of externally yielding to temptation ; and fourthly, the blessed result of such temptation, in proving the integrity and strength of those pure and holy feelings to which they were addressed.
These are points of tremendous moment to us ; and we rejoice to see them treated by a head so clear and a hand so firm as that of Mr. Bagot. We have pur- posely abstained from noticing in our pages the class of imaginative foreign works now so fashionable, ex- cept when the glaring errors of some called for an open exposure. The church is going again to battle against her ancient foes, Popery and Infidelity, and requires the strong meat of other days to nourish her for the conflict — we do not mean the whimsies of ' the Fathers,' but the soul-strengthening doctrines of ' the Reformers.' Mr. Bagot's writings always savoar strongly of the latter.
UNITARIANISM CONFUTED. ' 83
UNITARIANISM CONFUTED : a Series of Lee- tures delivered in Christ Church, Liverpool^ in 1839. By Thirteen Clergymen of the Church of England* Perris ; Hamilton and Co.
Here we have oar beloved pleiades again shining forfb, with some variation as to the original stars. This is a thick volume of sound, rich orthodoxy, bearing with terrible force upon the Socinian heresy —Unitarian we do not like to call it, for sorely we who worship the Trinity in nnity oaght not to concede even a name which we may rightfully lay claim to. The volume before us is a most striking proof of the vast and important field open to God's labourers, where each may find work without assail- ing his neighbour on minor matters. If each would candidly judge his brother according to the readiness with which he may believe that brother would seek grace to lay down his life for Christ's sake and the gospel, if Popery lighted again her faggots, or infi- delity drew the sword in our land, what a powerful, united, loving army we should see marshalled on the Lord's side !
THE LIFE OF CHRIST. Illustrated by One Hun- dred and Thirty-eight eminent British and Foreign Divines; and embellished with Seventy Wood En- gravings after celebrated Masters. Ball and Co.
We certainly did not expect to find between the splendidly ornamented covers, and within the ele- gant leave i of this showy book, interspersed with a
G s
84 REVIEW OF books:
profusion of beautiful engravings, so mach sound divinity as the compilers have culled, not onlj from living preachers of the gospel, bat from M. Henry, Doddridge, Gill, Scott, Baxter, Flavel, Hervey, Newton, and many others dear to the church. Of course tliere is a mixture, but we have detected nothing inconsistent with the truth as it is in Jesus ; and on the whole, if anybody wishes to present a very elegant new year's gift to a friend, we should say, here is a beautiful one.
THE FAMILY WHOM JESUS LOVED; or, the History of Martha and Mary, and Lazarus, In Seventeen Lectures. By the Rev, James Haldane Stewart, A*M,^ Incumbent of St, Bride's Churchy Liverpool; and Chaplain to t/ie Most Noble the Marquis of Bute, and the Marquis of Breadalbane, Hatchards.
MONS. Bonnet, in his delightful volume, * The Family of Bethany,* did not exhaust his subject: it is indeed inexhaustible as the love that it sets forth. Mr. Stewart has taken it up in that very sweet spirit which characterizes all his productions. He com- mences with our Lord's first visit, and after two lec- tures brings us to that delicious narrative 8o balmy to the wounds of bereaved affection. The revered author speaks as one who had indeed felt the wound, and received the consolation which Christ's love alone can bestow. Tt is a volume of comfort, of gentle warning and most affectionate encourageinent, and full of the spirit of John's epistles* Mr. Stewart
THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 85
is greatly and jastly endeared to the Christian cbarcb: this book will deepen oar obligations to him ; for, alas ! who among as is not sometimes called on to know sorrow, and to covet the sympathy of coDsoling friends.
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS : m two parts, by John Bunyan. With original notes by the Rev. Tftomas Scott, Rector of Aston Sandford, Bucks, The Eighth Edition, Seeleys.
Too much of John Bunyan the world can never have; and with the excellent notes of Scott ap- pended, the value of this unrivalled allegory is en- baoced. In compliance with the ruling taste of our pictorial age the publishers have added some very elegant embellishments to this edition, which is printed on large paper, with a series of near forty tasteful engravings, altogether rendering it an at- tractive volume to sach as are more easily taken with bandsome externals than solicitous to explore a bomely looking book for the good things it may con- tain. We like pictures almost everywhere, except in churches, where they unquestionably form a step- ping-stone in the approach, or rather the return to idolatry. In this volume there is nothing costly, nor unsnited to its nature. John Banyan is most pre- cioos in day» like these when many soar higher for lack of ballast, and many float lower from a super- aboodance of it, but few can find the true scriptural medium that God enabled him to keep. He was emi- nently taught from above; and the extraordinary
86 REVIEW OF books:
acceptance which his book, beyond all other unin- spired works has foand in every age and among all classes proves that the Lord appointed him to do a great and continuous work. May it prosper and in- crease !
NARRATIVES OF REVIVALS OF RELIGION IN SCOTLAND, IRELAND AND WALES.
piiver and Boyd, Glasgow.
Some caution is necessary in receiving narratives of these remarkable seasons in the church : but we see no reason to doubt the reality of any contained in this volume. They relate principally, but not ex- clusively, to such as have taken place in the Presby- terian church, and are very interesting. There is no room to question the remarkable operation of a divine influence in the recent conversions at Kilsyth ; and if a spirit of prayer was more perseveringly cultivated on behalf of Christ's ministers we should soon witness greater things than these, in a more extensive and continued entrance of souls into the Redeemer's kingdom.
THINGS NEW AND OLD ; or, RecolUctions by a District ViHtor, in Prose and Verse. Hamilton and Co.
Brief sketches of some interesting scenes and cha- racters, given with much simplicity, force, and feel-
POPERY UNVEILED. 87
iBg; and interspersed with poetry, easy and flowing as the prose. It is one of the most pleasing books of the kind we have met with ; and the profits being exclasively devoted to charitable purposes, we have every inducement to commend it to our readers. The cholera recollections are remarkably striking, and the whole are evidently the production of a truly spiritual and benevolent mind, delighting in its work of mercy and love among the poor of this world.
TRANSPLANTED FLOWERS; or, Memoir of Mrs. Rumpff and of the Ducheu de Broglie, daughter of Madame de Sta'el. By Robert Baird, Religious Tract Society.
Vert interesting, and peculiarly adapted for the higher classes, among whom these eminent Christian ladies moved. Both were shining lights — both were flowers, first transplanted from the gaudy parterre of fashionable life to the earthly garden of the Lord, aad now blooming, after a brighter transplantation, in the heavenly paradise. The little book is elegantly got up ; and we hope it may find its way to the bou- doir of many a thoughtless child of fashion, with a blessing from on high.
POPERY UNVEILED, in Six Lectures. Religions
Tract Society.
Whoever thus unveiled the enemy of Christ to the view of this people has done a most important ser- vice, and done it admirably. Sober, serious, argu-
88 REVIEW OF BOOKS.
mentative, and beautifully scriptural, we have here a small book of great things. So far as our warmest recommendation can promote its wider range, so far it will go; for we really have dwelt on its pages with no common satisfaction. God be praised for the bold faithful stand his spiritual servants are enabled to make against the foe so basely helped onward by political apostates, and connived at by timid, igno- rant, or lukewarm ministers !
An almanack, called *' The Protestant Almanack,'' has been published in Liverpool by Mr. Crisp, Which contains a greater quantity of matter appropriate to its title than we could have supposed a single sheet would comprize. It is embellished with portraits of Martin Luther, Queen Elizabeth, and William the Third, with an immense deal of letter press. It is also published, we believe, as a book. Protestantism in every garb ought to be placed before our popula- tion ; for, since Popery has now gained access to the senate, the council chamber, the palace, and the pul- pit, we must expect the people to be in all ways seduced ; and therefore be diligent to spread the shield of sound instruction between them and the foe-
The second volume of ' The Children's Missionary Magazine' is published, and is full of pleasing, yaluable matter.
S9
THE PROTESTANT.
According to the general impressioo, this dawning year will be one of no common character : there is a degree of expectation manifested on the part of the Jews throoghoat the world, that this, their returning year of jobilee is pregnant with mighty changes and extraordinary events; and assuredly at this period of oar dispensation the Jew is the key*note in accord- ance with whose vibrations the whole chord mast be strack. All Christians who are not catpabiy negiect- fal of their daty, in omitting to study the clae which God has graciously given in the prophetic pages to guide OS through the mysterious maze of present scenes, must assuredly know that the time to favour Zion, yea, the set time, is very nearly come; and there is not a truth made plainer to the Bible-reading believer in that blessed volume than the glorious fact that while the national restoration of Israel shall be symptomatic of a shaking that will cause all earth's kingdoms to totter, the spiritual repeiving of them again will be to the Gentile church as life from the dead. The day of scoffing reproach is well nigh past : and when Israel ceases to be a bye-word and a scorn among the nations, then shall those who have dared to avow their conviction of the literal mean- ing of the Lord Jehovah's words of promise, and who have laboured and prayed with a confident belief that their hope shall not make them ashamed — then
90 THE PROTESTANT.
dhall they also cease to be a derisioo to their bre- thren. To see Israel beginniDg^ to ripen for the har- vest of glory, and Babylon the great for the vintage of wrath ; to mark how, amid the wonderful changes of late years, the Lord is evidently preparing a way for his ransomed ones to pass over, and kindling a farnace for his church, not to destroy but to refine and brighten, and beautify it for himself— oh, this is so sweet, so precious a privilege that well may it reconcile us to the empty mocks or the harsh reproofs of those who* deem us fools, and our expectations a dream.
There never was a season when Christians had greater encouragement, if they would but perceive it, to be stedfast, immoveable, abounding in the work of the Lord. With one hand to throw a shield over the Jew, with the other to aim a vigorous thrust at Papal Rome, is the position that promises to him who assumes it the richest, the speediest, the fullest reward of his labour. Babylon is taking to her much of her ancient power, and openly practising her wonted arts, and preparing again to enact the mur- derous abominations that will surely cause her to come in remembrance before God. The Jew is stea- dily setting his face towards the Zion of his love — the land that has been his fathers', and is at this moment his own, though neither they nor he may, for centuries past, have possessed a pebble or a grain of sand upon that sacred soil. God's word is not yea and nay : He expressly gave it to Abraham and to his literal seed for ever; and though long, long banished from his possession, it is his — it never was another's— «nd the strangers that have polluted the sanctuary shall ere long be cast out, never more to
THE PROTESTANT. 91
defiJe its hallowed precincts. With such a streak of joyous light yisible even now beyond the darkened scenes that gird ns roand, and stretch into a gloomy distance of political turmoil, ecclesiastical confusion, and a chaos of jarring elements, we can look on the present, and face the future with something more than complacency : we can lift .up our heads and look up for the promised redemption.
^Yes,' adds my uncle, * and we may go forth to work in whatsoever department of this wide field the Lord sees good to call us to, with strong hand and cheerful heart. Oh for the zeal of him, the brother so recently, so suddenly called to his Master's presence to receive the approving word " Well done I " What a vast number of years that man lived, if time were measured by the amount of employment in God*s service ! Few, very few, at fourscore years can say they have wrought, bearing the burden and heat of the day, as long, as> ardently, as effectually as David Nasmith had, when at half that age he was called to rest and to triumph for evermore in the presence of his beloved Lord '
* Indeed, indeed he was *Mn labours more abun- daot " than any man I ever knew ; and that in a line the least ostentatious, the most discouraging of all. His was the task both to go and to send others into the streets and the lanes of great ungodly cities; and teach publicans and harlots to press into the kingdom of heaven. How sweet was his tranquil, cheerful aspect !— how warm the glow of his brotherly love towards every child of God ! How tender his concern for perishing souls ; and how utterly free, bow far removed from all narrow, all sectarian, all party-spirit ! Truly the world was his field ; and his
92 THE PROTESTANT.
large open heart embraced every fellow of his na- ture. When he erred — and who does not err? — it was from excessive gailelessness of heart, and almost an inability to distrust others. He was the parent of many seals, called oat of the depths of Satan's kingdom through his instramentality.'
' Ay/ interrupted my uncle, * and many more will yet be born to God through it to call his name blessed. Our little magazine has been privileged to work in one of the most important of all the many yaloable undertakings that our dear brother set on foot: and by yoar readers perhaps in no character will he be more affectionately remembered than as the originator of the London Female Mission. If no other monument of his compassionate zeal for lost sinners existed, that would suffice*'
* And he died poor, uncle: he who has led the heart-stricken widow and pining orphan to an Almighty Husband and Father, while tenderly shel- tering their weak heads, and nourishing their fa- mished bodies by the ever ready bounty of his hand •—he has left a widow and fatherless little ones, per- haps to know the privations from which' —
My uncle sternly interrupted me. ' Niece, don't libel yoar countrywomen. The bare fact that David Nasmith has bequeathed to the Christian ladies of England, Ireland, Scotland, a helpless family, is enough. If an appeal be needed, let London, Dub- lin, Edinburgh exhibit the horrors of their most de- praved districts, and say, ** Here was the scene of your brother's labours : these were the beings whom, in the Spirit of his Divine Master, he came hither to seek and to save." Oh no, such a stain can never be found resting on our land as that David Nasmith's
THE PROTESTANT. 93
bereaved survivors should have a pang added to their natural sorrow which the grateful hand of Christian bounty can avert. Fear not for them : rather let us fear lest the example of what man can do, and therefore what he ouffht to do for Christ, should rise against us to condemnation. It is an awful thought, that even he of whom we speak was, what he felt himself to be, an unprofitable servant, wholly destitute of any plea before God, save only that of the atoning blood and spotless righteousness of the Saviour in whom be lived and died rejoicing : and yet among us there are many who would secretly parade their fractional half hours of light employment in sTome good work, as a very meritorious thing before God and man.'
* Well, God grant that we may all strive to follow Nasmitb as he followed Christ! Uncle, the re- membrance of his sweet loving spirit almost makes me shrink from the subject of controversy.'
* Nay, ray dear, that good man's life was one vigoronsly-sustained controversy. We are not all called to the same post ; every part of our fortress most be guarded, and every troop of the enemy put to flight. If in the providence of God he had been called to a direct encounter with Antichristian doc- trine, trust me he would have acquitted himself as zealously and well as he did in combatting the more openly practical abomination of drunkenness and licentiousness. We may well pray for a portion of his spirit, for even in controversy the man of God should not rudely strive, but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient, in meekness instructing them that oppose themselves. Such was eminently the example of our departed friend.*
' Uncle, there is a section in our church who
94 THE PROTESTANT.
would have excluded that man from the pale of or- thodox Christians/
' Our church disclaims them, aud repudiates with abhorrence their arrogant assumption. Rome Is their proper atmosphere, and thither let them go. Our truly Catholic church, like the apostles on the foun- dation of whose doctrine she is built, embraces with the arms of loving recognition all who partake in the like precious faith ; wishing grieice and peace to all them that love the liord Jesus Christ in sincerity. Our divisions are indeed matter of much grief to such as can discern the blessedness of unity, and the immense advantage that its breach gives the enemy ; but there is no surer approach to Antichristian pre- sumption than the assumed possession of an exclu- sive holiness in any one branch of a church consisting in many different hoodies. Great is our offence in this respect: not that I allude to our own communion, which, if fairly tested, I believe to be one of the most candid and least bigotted of all-y-always excepting the party before alluded to — but there is a general disposition to seek the pre-eminence and an inclina- tion on the part of each to cry out concerning his own congregation of worshippers, *' The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord are these." To be sure if men conscientiously think themselves right in disputed matters, they will, in the same degree consider others In the wrong : but I would there were greater humility among us.'
' That haughty spirit which goeth before a fall is but too manifest on all sides. Men's passions and prejudices seem to run higher in proportion as the ex- igencies of the time call for mourning and humilia- tion before God. There is too little now practised of
THE PROTESTANT. 95
vhat Christians in former times foqnd so indispen- sable a preparation to the conflicts, indi?idaal and collective, that they were called on to encounter — retirement and thought. Yoa know, uncle, I an^ any tbiog bat an unsocial animal ; yet I do think that re- ligioas professors in our own day live too much after the fasbions of a world which they abjure. I do not say that their habits of visiting, ^nd other trifling pnrsoits, tempt them to curtail the hours that should be devoted to scriptural reading and prayer, because I have no right to judge them harshly ; but I do think mach precious time is squandered in various unpro- fitable ways, that ought to be employed in serious coDsideration, not only over God's word, but also on the pages of history, political and ecclesiastical, com- paring what has been with what is now, and ponder- ing on what the signs of the times, taken in connexion with the sure word of prophecy, lead us to expect. From a school of such study many a valuable fellow- helper would arise to strengthen the hands of those watchmen who are already sounding the alarm.'
' It is quite true, my dear ; and for a perfect model of what you recommend, take the speech of our gifted McNeile at Sheffield, which followed that of McGhee, recorded in our last month's paper. The evil habit of circQmscribing our view within a narrow range, when we ought to regard it with a bird's eye, embracing all within the horizon, as mapped out before us, is a very serious hindrance in our path. The annals of the blessed Reformation, at home and abroad, the events connected with our own histoiy, from the period of ^Dgostine's mission, who came from Rome to force ber fetters upon our independent national church ; ^Qd more particularly the days of the Stuart dynasty.
93 THE PROTESTANT.
witb the whole course of the mystic Babylon's ini- qaitous doings throaghont the world — these are sab- jects which we ought diligently to study for ourselves, and to draw from them many valuable hints for suit- ably informing the minds of the humbler classes, now panting for what they term useful knowledge, and most foully abused by the artifices of those who not only turn religion into rebellion, and faith into fac- tion, but history into a lie, to serve their own par- poses. Read by the pure, steady light of God's word, history is a precious thing : yet I think that, except as a school exercise, it is very partially attended to by your sex — very rarely forms the topic of those con- versations, for which your inyeterate love of visiting gives such endless opportunity ; and still more rarely is it taken advantage of, to interest and inform the young of our humble class, whom you instruct. How often might the drowsy faculties of a school-child be roused, and the memory indelibly impressed, by some judicious application of an interesting historical fact, brought to illustrate the scripture that would furnish so invaluable a comment upon it ! Do you not agree with me ? '
' I do, indeed sir; and can from experience attest the justness of your remark : for I have frequently tried it, and always with success. Perhaps oar hint may be acted upon, to the advantage of some poor children who now, supplied by evil men with works calculated to do dreadful harm, are deceived through the ignorance that would thus be remoYcd. Blind- folding is a favourite plan of the great enemy^s : and oars ought to be, in all possible ways consistent with godliness, to circumvent him.'
THE
CHRISTIAN LADY'S MAGAZINE,
FEBRUARY, 1840.
HELEN FLEETWOOD.
VL
'So, yoa have come among as, ma^am, to try the comforts of the factory?' said one of the neighbours to the widow Green.
* I baTe come to seek employment for these chil- dren, and for myself also ; but more in the hope of gaining an honest livelihood than of finding greater comfort than we enjoyed in the country/
' The country ! ' ejaculated the other, a man of most cadaverous and care-worn aspect, * Why a hreatb of country air, and a day's liberty, such as a pig-driver gets, is worth all that the best of us know in this vile town/
' Bat to those who are willing to work, such a mar- ket for their labour is a great advantage.'
' Them that are most willing to work are not al- ways the most able,' returned the man : * and to my
FSBBUABT, 1840. H
98 HBLBK FLBBTWOOD.
mind it's a cannibal sort of life to be eating, as one may say, the flesh off our children's bones, and sack- ing the yoang blood oat of their ^eins/
* Hold your tongue, Tom Soath,' said Mrs. Wright, angrily, ' What business have yoa to talk so, having four children in the mills every day.'
' Tes, and three in the untimely grave, where yoo, neighbour, have five, besides the poor maimed thing yonder — and all through those murdering mills.'
'You are a discontented man. South,' said the other visitor, a decent looking woman, * but certainly you've had cause to complain.'
* Ay, havn*t I, Mrs. Johnson ? I entered my younger children on the faith of these new acts, with their fine promises about schooling, short hours, inspec- tors, and all that. Bad as matters went, they told me it was because the acts hadn't time yet to work — all was soon to be fair and right ; and so I neg- lected an opportunity of taking my poor femily back to the blessed country labour, and here we may all die in ignorance and sin, as we live.'
Alarmed as the widow was by the former part of this speech, the conclusion called forth a stronger feeling, and she said, ' Oh, don't fancy that the mercy of Him who alone can remove ignorance from the mind and wash away sin from the soul is con- fined to any place. The cry of want and penitence will reach Him as soon from the lanes of a town like this as from the village green.'
' I don't deny it, my good lady ; bot people who would become fit company for angels must begin by getting out of the way of devils.'
' Meaning your neighbours, I suppose? ' said Mrs. Wright, crimson with anger.
HELBK FLBBTWOOD. 99
' He doesn't mean that,' interposed the other wo- man : ' he is talking of the mills, and the wickedness that his poor children are learning there.'
* They hav'n't mnoh to learn, Fll be boand,' re- torted Mrs. Wright.
'Ah, thafs too trae,' exclaimed South. ^They are going to min as fost as they can drive.'
* Notwithstanding yoor good example.'
'Don't scoff at me, neighbour Wright. I know my example is none of the best : but if I see myself to be in a bad way is that any reason I shoald not wish my children in a better ? With my bed-ridden old mother, and wife in a galloping consumption, and myself hardly ap to the little work I can getf and not a hand's torn at any other business for them, I can't take them out of employ. What can I do?'
' Do yoa send them regularly to the school ? ' asked Mrs. Green.
' What school? This act mocks us with an order that every child should go to school twelve hours in the week, and have a ticket for it; but when it comes to the pass, how do they manage ? Why they give them an hour's leave or so at such times as no school is open, or else when there's only schools within reach where the masters and mistresses won't re* oeive the little dirty wretches, covered with the filth of the mills, among their children. Then, to make oat the twelve hours, they tell them to go to school on Sunday mofning, afternoon, and night ; as if the poor creatures did not want a day's rest, to say no- thing of play : of course they won't go.'
' But bow do they get vouchers ? '
* They forge them fast enough, but in a great many
H s
100 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
infills they are allpwed to slip in without any, and the owners that have a conscience above that, tarn off the yonng hands, rather than the work should be stopped. Then the children must go to the silk-mills, where they are taken in at any age, and worked to death.'
' Can ail this be possible ? ' asked the widow.
' It can't be denied/ said Mrs. Johnson, shaking her head.
* But sorely the inspectors must discover such de- ceptions as to the schools, and punish them?'
* The inspector comes once a year, and is bound to advertize his coming in the newspapers : so they take care to have all right just then. But if a com- plaint is made, and proved too, this fine law allows the father or brother of the offender to try the cause, and gives him power to dismiss it, if he likes. I'll tell you what: within the memory of that girl, the law made the lowest penalty for working overhours, or for other such offence that was proved against a mill-owner, ten pounds, and forbade a near relation to try it : bat now, as I told you, the worst case may be let off for half-a-crown, or set free, as the magis- trate likes. So much for our rights, and the redress of our wrongs ! '
The widow felt confounded: she looked at the children, then at her daughter, but spoke not. South, with the readiness that we all feel to expa- tiate on ills when a fellow-sufferer is present, re- sumed.
' Then, in the case of ill-usage, you see the master usually contrives to shift the blame from himself to the managers or overlookers, or spinners: he don't order the children to be beat; he don't see them
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 101
beaten ; aod so he gets off, and the poor things have no real protection anywhere.'
By thi& time the three little Greens had drawn near the speaker, and were gazing in his face with looks of bewildered alarm : he observed it.
' Ab, God help ye, poor dears ! Little pleasure will yon have, except in the ways of sin/
' Fm not going into the mills/ said Willy ; ' but Mary is. Will Mary be beat ? ' and his lip began to quiver.
' Never fear/ said Mary, stoutly ; ' neither master nor man shall beat me: and as for sin, I won't go into any sinful company.'
* Ton can't keep out of it, my poor child.'
* If it IS in the way of duty, sir,' said Helen, mo- destly, * and we pray to the Lord to watch over us, and enable us to watch also, we shall be kept from evil ways, though we may be forced to have evil com- panions/
Mrs. Wright tossed her head with a very scornful sneer. South looked at the two girls alternately, and muttered, * Two more lambs for the shambles/
' Come, come, neighbour/ said Mrs. Johnson, * you we too disheartening, quite. To be sure, not one S^irl in fifty keeps her character clean; and to be sore there isn't a small tradesman's wife would not think herself disgraced to take a factory girl for a servant : but what so many do doesn't look as bad as if only a few did it. I have seen some that turned oot decently after all. My nephew married one, and she did very well/
* Tes/ returned South, ' and died at the birth of her first child, as everybody said she would.'
'The worst things,' proceeded Mrs. Johnson,
102 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
whose objection to discouragements was not Yery consistent, ' the worst thing is the accidents. Ton most think of poor Sarah there, and take care of the machines.' ' What machines? '
* Everything is done by machinery ; yon see, they are great things, ever. so high and bi^, all going about and about, some on wheels running np and down the room, and some with great rollers taming about as fast as the steam can drive them ; so yon must step back, and ran forward, and daok, and torn, and move as they do, or off goes a finger or an arm, or else yoa get a knock on the head, to remem- ber all yoar lives. As to sitting down, there's no sach thing.'
' No sitting down ! ' cried all the villagers in a breath.
* No, no,' responded Sarah, in a melancholy tone, * no sitting down.'
* Ah, poor soal !' said South, * it was standing and standing all day long that makes yoa unable to stand for the rest of your life.'
At this juncture Wright entered, and looked with some surprise at the party. * Why yoa seem as if you had just run away from an earthquake, good people.'
' Pshaw ! ' replied his wife, * it's only Sooth at his old pranks of making out grievances to frighten my mother about her tender chicks.'
* And our good mother of course takes it ^11 for gospel,' returned Wright, forcing a smile.
* No, not gospel at any rate,' said Mary : * for there is no good news in it, uncle.'
< Gospel means truth, my dear.'
HBLEK FLEETWOOD. 103
'The gospel is tratb, ancle: bat the word means "good news,"*
Mrs. Wright sharplj remarked, ' Ton need not set np, Miss Green, to teach year elders and betters : this comes of filling yoang heads with conceit/
Maiy was ready with a reply; bat the widow inter- posed. * I should be 9orry, Sarah, to hear a child presoming to teach ; bat in this case Mary only an* swered her ancle according to the sense of the wordi withoat knowing he ased it with any other meaning. It is indeed good news, and the blessed certainty that it is also trath, unfailing troth, is what makes it better than the best of news. God grant us all to receiye it, not only into our minds by hearing, but into our hearts by faith ! '
* Grandmother,' said Sarah, * what is the news that you call so good ? '
Before the old lady could reply, Mrs. Wright torned fiercely upon the girl, and exclaimed in her loudest tone of anger, * If you dare to meddle or make with any of these canting tricks, I'll bundle you out of doors, to crawl through the streets, and beg your way.'
* Will yon so, mistress mine 1 ' exclaimed her hus- band, in a tone no less angry than her own : ' you should bundle out yourself first, I promise you.'
A Tiolent altercation ensued, in which South acted as pacificator on grounds of propriety and respecta- bility, while Mrs. Johnson poured oil on the flame, in her endeavours to quench it. Several times the ^idow attempted to speak, but in vain : and Helen, seeing poor Sarah trembling greatly, went over to soothe her. This turned the mother's ire upon her, ' Stand ottl ' she vociferated. ' None of your hypo-
104 HELEN PLEETWOOD.
critical ways here. You wheedled yoarself in, to eat the bread of my poor brother s orphans, beggar as you are ! Bat you shan't interfere in my house, I promise you/
All reply to this savage speech was prednded by Sarah falling from her seat in conTulsions. The widow told' Helen to take the frightened children into their room, and then with an energy that would not be repressed, while the two men raised and supported the struggling sufferer, she ex- claimed, ' Daughter, as you value a mother's bless- ing, desist from this violence. Your enmity against the gospel the Spirit of God can alone remove : bat I have a right to interfere between your evil passions and the children under my care : and oh,' she added, as the blackening face of the girl gave evidence of the danger she was now in, ' is it not enough to see your own child sinking into an early grave, but will you stand between the Saviour and the soul that he died to redeem ! '
The entrance of the two boys now increased the confusion. Charles had evidently been drinking to a pitch of excitement, and Johnny looked more alert than h6 had yet done. The elder, who loved no living thing but Sarah, and was really fond of her, no sooner beheld her condition than he rushed for- ward, and demanded what they had been doing to his sister.
* 'Tis your mother's work,* answered Wright ; and the young madman instantly seized a heavy missile, which he would have flung at her, had not Mrs. John- son caught his arm, and South, leaving his hold of Sarah, wrested it from him* A short struggle enabled the man^ to confine so weak a creature, and he pro-
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 105
ceeded to take the only yengeance within bis reach, by uttering a volley of dreadfol imprecations and threats directed against his mother*
' Hold yoar tongue, yon fool/ said Wright, ' the girl is coming to ; and yoa'li frighten her off again. Here, lend a hand, and speak coaxingly to her: she'll mind yoa best.' He winked to South, who, seeing the effect of these words, released his captive, and the boy's whole attention was immediately di* rected to his sister. Supporting her head on his shoulder, he whispered the kindest encouragements he could think of: only darting now and then a fero* clous glance at his mother, who stood in sullen si- lence, apparently unmoyed by a scene that dread- fully appalled the widow, and alarmed even the neighbours, to whom, alas ! it was not new. South, seeing the danger pretty well over, drew the old lady aside, and said in a low voice, * Now, ma'am, as they wished you to think I was making worse of the matter than I need do, just judge for yourself by what you see before you. There's your daugh- ter, as nice and respectable a young woman as ever came among us, turned into a stone, as I may say, towards her own children, by hardening her heart to their sufferings, that she might live on their toil and rain. There's her husband, a quiet good-natured man, doating on his children, but forced to wink at what frets his very life ; and only interfering when anything so bad as this happens. There's the cripple, her legs useless by the over fatigue of always stand- ing at the frames, her arm gone, by being caught in- the machinery, and she in a decline from fits brought
on by her sufferings. Her sister least said is
soonest mended : only I can pretty well guess what
106 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
sort of company she is in all this time. That boy is a deyil incarnate ; drinks, and swears, and cheats, and seems to hate all good for the sake of hating it. The little fellow he is leading in the same way; and it's a mercy for the others that they died young. A short life, and a sad one they had ; poor things, they are gone to heayen to be rewarded for it all. And now, Mrs. Green, have I said more than yoar own eyes can see to be the troth ?'
The widow conld make no reply : her heart was overwhelmed with terror and distress. Meanwhile Sarah seemed to be entreating her brother, who after some objection whispered to his father, and he re- turned an answer accompanied by a half-smile which drew a grin upon Charles' coantenance. The boy then resolately exclaimed, ' Grandmother, poor Sarah was so pleased with the singing this morning, she wants to hear more of it— nothing else will serve her now. Please to call Miss Helen and the yoang 'nns, and let's have a devoot Psalm.'
The widow hesitated, and looked in the flashed scowling face of her daughter : bat Charles reiterated the reqnest in a more peremptory tone, and Sarah, in reply to her query, said she wished it very much. She therefore summoned the children and Helen, whose pale looks bore witness to their past alarm, and Charles, who seemed delighted thus to annoy his mother, ranged them before Sarah, whom he still sup- ported. * What shall we sing ? ' asked Mary : Helen whispered a reply ; and they immediately began, in the softest tones of their sweet voices,
There is a fountain flUed vdth blood. Drawn from Emmanael's veins.
For some time Charles kept his eyes on his sister's
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 107
face, smiling at her delight, which she expressed by most eloqaent looks, and frequently pushing his arm, as if to keep his attention awake. As the singers proceeded, howeTer, and Helen's voice in particular proved how dee|>ly she entered into every word of that exquisite hymn, his eyes became riveted on them, his features lost their dark expression, and the power of sacred melody for a few moments triumphed OTcr the evil spirit that troubled him.
' Sweet, sweet and beautiful cousins,' said Sarah, 'how I do love your faces and your songs.'
'We'll sing again, shall we?' said little Willy, and a lively hymn,
Ck>me, let lu join oar cheerful songs.
When they had ended this. South, whose tears were starting, hoarsely said, 'Bless you, sweet dears; if ever innocence and a cotton- mill went together, may yoQ be innocent still !'
Mrs. Wright, who either from policy or some other caase had assumed her wonted composure, gravely addressed the widow. 'It has struck me, mother^ that as yon don't send the little boys to the mill, yon nught turn a good penny out of them by letting them >iBg ballads in the street.'
' Or make an engagement at one of the small thea- ^,' added Mrs. Johnson, who seemed to take it quite seriously.
'Never mind their impertinence,' said Charles to the party he was now pleased to patronize, ' give us one more song.'
'Shall it be the evening hymn ?' asked Helen.
'Not until we have read and prayed, my love,' re- plied the widow, hoping by this means to introduce
108 HELEN FLEETWOOD,
the scripture and evening worship, at least for once ; — but the words put all in motion. Mrs. Johnson, in a great bustle, turned to look at the clock, protesting she had no notion it was so late ; and the rest took advantage of her rising to shew in various ways their ntter disinclination to any such procedure. The widow had hoped that South would second her pro- posal, but he was one of the many who see the dis- ease, and loudly complain of its effects, and even talk of the only remedy, without desiring to know any thing experimentally of its power. She had, there- fore, no alternative but to join in the general good night, and to retire.
' Granny,' said the youngest boy, as he climbed on her knee, 'this Sunday was not like our Sundays at home.'
* Only while we were singing,' remarked Mary ; ^and a great mercy that they let us; for cousin Charles was like a wild beast, and would have done somebody a mischief.'
' Hush, Mary, you must not speak harshly of your poor cousin, but pray for him.'
' Oh,' exclaimed James, ' I shall never bear the sight of him after the words he used to his. mother. I heard them, and a great scuffle too ; what were they doing?'
'No harm was done, my dear. I was indeed shocked at what you speak of, but it is the grace of God alone that makes yon to differ, so far as you do, from others who have not been so well instructed.'
* So Helen told him,' observed Mary, • when he got into a passion at Charles's bad words. I wonder what Richard would have done if he heard anybody speak so to you, granny?'
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 109
' Dear Richard ! ' said the widow, glad to change the sabjecty 'I trust this has been a day of peace and blessing to him.'
ThjB children took up the theme, and went oyer the details of what they supposed to have been their bro- ther's employments through the Sabbath hours. This restored their cheerfulness; and they gratefully joined in those exercises which had been rejected in the ad-> joining room. The evening hymn, chaunted in a low tone, closed the day ; and the children could not re- press their satisfaction that they were to spend no more Sabbaths in that house.
* Mind,' said Mary, as she repaired to her little bed, * mind, Helen, you call me in good time, as if we were going to milk old Buckle's cows.'
Helen forced a smile. ' I will Mary; and though the streets of M. are not much like bur own sea-shore, the path of duty is always pleasant, for the Lord shines upon it.'
' I think Helen has turned preacher,' said Mary to herself, * I never heard her talk in this way before* I wonder if the mill people will mind her. If they don't treat us with proper respect I shall make more dast among them than all the machines that old South talked of. Oh, it is all for want of a little proper spirit that the work-people are made slaves of. I can shew them a better plan.' And the poor child fell ^leep to dream of conquests achieved in an imagi- nary mill.
110 HELBN FLEBTWOOD.
HELEN FLEETWOOD.
VII.
Long before morning had broke on the dall misty town of M. the widow Green and her family arose to pray, preparatory to the departure of the two g^rls. Gladly woald the aged woman have accom- panied them to the innermost scene of their laboars^ bat this, she had been assured, was oat of the ques- tion. However, to send them alone through the streets was not to be thought of; and after seeing them swallow a few mouthfuls of bread, she took Helen's arm, grasped Mary by the hand, and closely followed by the two boys, who would not remain, softly quitted the hoase.
The air was frosty, and consequently to them more congenial than the foul, dank atmosphere that usu- ally prevailed in those pent-up thoroughfares. It breathed comparative refreshment^ and imparted some buoyancy to their spirits. Helen was entering on her future task with a clearer view of its probable evils than any other of the party had taken; but strengthened by a determination to do and to suffer uncomplainingly whatever might be before her. She had spoken traly her prevailing thought when re- minding the widow of the cross that every Christian must needs bear, and of their past exemption from all deserving the name. She now realized the daily
HBLBK FLEETWOOD. Ill
takings np of that crosf, and her only solicitqde wai to be foand followiog Christ ander its burden. She would indeed ha^e preferred any species of drudgery among the rural scenes that floated before her mind's eye, with their endearing recollections, in all the heightened beauty of deep contrast ; but had' the choice been her's, she would not for one moment haye entertained a thought of deserting the post of sacred duty beside her benefactors, for the sweetest delights of her own loved native hamlet. In all Helen's pictures of earthly happiness, that family ever occupied the foreground; and an enjoyment unshared by them was a dream that never entered the affectionate girl's imagination.
Poor Mary, who intended to work such wonders in the factories by her unflinching resistance of all ag- gressive doings, did not feel quite so resolute under the chilling influence of a raw dark morning, as when, in her snug bed, she had watched the flicker- ing candle that cast its ray on the page her grand- mother was studying. Gladly would she have been spared the trial that now drew near ; but no outward sign of such misgivings was apparent. On the con- trary, she endeavoured to trip with a gait as lively as when bounding along the eastern eliff towards old Buckle's shed ; but that was impossible. However, she bore up with a sprightly air, frequently turning to cheer her brothers with the promise of bringing home at night a full, true, and particular account of her expected adventures through the day.
At length they reached the mill, and there they found a pale, sleepy, little crowd, who, like them- selves, were somewhat too early, shivering in the ungenial air* A large lamp was burning over the
11:2 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
entrance- gate, and the morning's light had began to throw a doubtful streak across the sky, blending with its sickly glare. Many curious eyes examined the strangers, and some questions were directed to Mary, whose communicative looks invited them. ' You are too smart/ said a little girl, surveying her dress ; ' I doubt your fine clothes won't hold long.'
' Fine clothes ! ' responded Mary, in astonishment. ' I never wore fine clothes in my life : and this is my common milking-dress.'
' It*s too go6d for the mill,' rejoined the other; and the bystanders confirmed her assertion, both by their words and appearance. Mary stoutly main- tained her ground. * Neatness and cleanliness are never out of place,' said she ; ' they make the poorest child look respectable ; and so my granny has often told me.'
A burst of rude laughter followed this speech, and the voice of a grown lad exclaimed, ' You'll soon forget your granny's sayings, and learn things more to the purpose, my fine little madam.'
The next moment' the gate was thrown open, and a sort of rush ensued, in the midst of which the Wrights were seen elbowing their way. Phoebe cast a glance of disdain on her relations as she passed, and took no farther notice. John nodded; but Charles, after apparently overlooking them, and hurrying on, stole back, as if more than half reluo- tant to have anything to do with them, and in a hesitating manner said, * I promised Sarah to see you in ; so come along, for I can't stop a minute.'
At the door, the widow was told that she must go no further, unless she had work in the mill ; and so great was the press just then, that she scarcely knew
HELBK FLBBTWOOD. 113
bow the girls had been disengaged from her reten- tive graspy and borne inward by the living tide, while she, with the boys, was obliged to tarn back. Leaving to Mary's recital the adventures of the former, we will accompany the latter to their apart- ment at Wright's, where they hastened to poor forth in earnest prayers the solieitade of their hearts for objects so dear to them, laanched on a scene of wbicb they only knew enongh to render them more anxionsly cnrioas as to its details. The widow felt so many misgifings, that she clang more closely to the assorance of being able to withdraw her children whenever she pleased ; -and already she was secretly weighing the respective merits of different plans, 'Opposing this to fail, as she conld not bat fear that it would. The dress, langaage, demeanoar of the young people whom she bad seen at the mill-gate, was anything bat prepossessing : and the mnltitade of men and women, but chiefly men, whom she re- marked repairing to the different factories, were very unlike what her fancy had pictared of an indastrioas, thriving population. She had lived too long, and seen too mnch of human nature, to expect the ab- sence of vice and misery in any class, more especi- ally among the lower orders densely peopling a large town: bat that ensnaring pamphlet, with the glowing repiesentations of Mr. Stratton and his friend, had spread a colouring over this particular scene not so easily dispelled, even when the naked reality began to ibrce itself on her unwilling perception, confirm- ing the purport of Soatb's remarks, which she would fain have referred to the promptings of a discon- tented mind. After a dull breakfast, the two little boys went to
PkbRVART, 1840. I
114 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
talk to Sarah, who was not well enough to leave her bed ; and Mrs. Green at once commenced an earnest and serious, though affectionate, remonstrance with her daughter, on the evident neglect of parental duties, which could only issue in the ruin of her children. The representation was silently heard to its closing appeal, which referred to tho different ine of conduct pursued by the speaker towards her own family when young. ' I know that very well, mother,' answered the other, somewhat softened ; ' and I'm sure no children ever had kinder or better parents than we; but a country life makes things come easy enough that one can't think of doing in a town.'
' If yon mean those things that I have alluded to, scriptural teaching, prayer, and watchfulness over the young ; surely they are rendered eyen more ne- cessary where temptations abound, as they plainly do here.^
' Ay, but you can't keep your eye on the children, as you do in the country.'
' Supposing it to be so, Sally, ought not that to make you more diligent in teaching them to remem- ber that the eye of God is never withdrawn — that he is ever about their path, and spieth out all their ways ; and that no darkness can cover them from his piercing sight?'
' It would not be enough that I chose to teach, if they didn't choose to learn.'
The widow felt that she who uttered this remark was a living illustration of its truth : however, she persevered* ' You, my daughter, have one part to perform, they another. God requires of you to point out to your children the way they should go : and
HELEN FLEETWOOD* 115
whether they will hear, or whether they will forbear, yoa are boand to tell them their doty.'
Mrs. Wright grew impatieDt ; she heg^n to fidget, to look at the clock, and to mutter inaudibly : her mother resamed. * My dear child, I will not detain yoa long ; I am aboot to remove from your house, and oar fatare meetings may not be so freqaent as I wish. Only give me this satisfaction before I leave 700: promise that yoa will ask help from above, in the very difficult work you have too long neg- lected, of correcting and guiding those poor young people/
' Whaf s «the good of asking for what I could not use if I had it?' said she, peevishly.
* He who gives the help will also enable yon to nse it.'
* Mother, it's all folly to begin now. I have such a set to deal with, that you might as easily torn this old table into gold as alter them for the better. You saw the way that undutiful fellow treated me yester- day.'
' It was a dreadful scene : but had you commended him and yourself to the divine care for the day ? Oh; Sally, had you honoured the Sabbath in God's hoase and in your own, and, as far as in you lay, constrained your family to do the same, Satan would never have obtained such an advantage here.'
Mrs. Wright now became irritated : * I'll tell you my mind fairly, mother ; bad as it was, I'd rather have it so than make my house the gloomy place you would wish it to be — filled with long faces, and dis- mal voices, drawling out melancholy psalms, and texts, and prayers all day along; breaking down the natural spirits of the children.'
I 2
116 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
Just then, a soand issued from the other roosi, of two merry voices carolling a lively rural ditty, ac- companied by Sarah's laugh. The widow, consider- ing this the best answer to her daughter's coarse and unjust remarks, remained silent.
' Well, mother, I*m sure you mean it all kindly ;' said Mrs. Wright, returning from the cupboard, to which she had gone in some haste, ' but stay a few weeks, and you'll understand the difference better than you do now.'
' I cannot understand better than I do now that we must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ, to give account of the things done in the body. Oh that I could persuade you, my poor Sally, to taste and see how gracious the Lord is to those who call upon him — how pleasant is that ser- vice which you account hard and severe : and what great gain there is in the godliness which you des- pise ! '
' Mind me now, mother : if you don't make some- thing of those boys, by setting them to work, all the gains of your godliness won't keep yon long from beggary.'
' I intend them to work, because idleness is sinful and dangerous ; and because we are bound to seek God's help in the way of honest industry, not that of slothful expectation ; but I will not place them in a factory yet.'
' Do as you please : you'll find you must.'
The widow now went to take leave of the poor girl, whom she found looking much more animated, and who welcomed her most eagerly.
' Dear granny, I am sorry and not sorry for your going away. I cannot bear to part with you all;
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 117
bat joa will be more comfortable in a place of your own/
^ We will often come to see yoa, my dear : and now tell me, Sarah, do yon know who has afflicted yoa thas ? '
' It was partly done by the machine, ma'am, and partly by the overlooker that used to strap me, and kick me when I nsed to get too tired to work.'
A chill crept over the widow as she thought of her dear children ; bat she went on : ' That was not my meaning, my love : who do you think has ordered these afflictions for yoa ? '
Sarah remained silent, looking perplexed. Willy said, in a soft tone, * It was God, coasin/
*I don't believe it was,' she qaickly answered, turning her full eyes upon him.
* Why not ?' said James.
* Because Helen Fleetwood told me that God is very good ; and I don't think he would order me to he hurt in this way.'
The two boys looked at their grandmother, who, greatly affected, said, ' My dear child, God's mercies often come to us in a very strange shape ; and I trust yon will yet find that even these hurts were ordered by his great goodness, for your everlasting benefit.'
' Hush ! ' said the girl, glancing to the door, where her mother now appeared to ask whether a neighbour, who had a leisure hour, should assist in removing the loggage : the offer was gladly accepted, and in ano- ther hour the party had entered their new abode.
The table was scarcely spread for dinner before Helen and Mary hastened in, their clothes already somewhat the worse for a few hours wear fn a mill, but with fresh colour, smiling faces, and excellent
118 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
appetites. * Ob how nice/ cried Mary, ' to have a home of one's own again ; and how neat yon have made it look !' She was soon assailed with qnes- tions, to which she replied, that she liked the mill greatly, bat wonld not begin her stoiy then, as they had only a qaarter of an hoar oat of their dinner hoar, some cleaning being reqaired before they went to work again. Accordingly, dinner was soon dis- patched, and away they ran, with an alacrity that dissipated mach of the widow's uneasiness.
In the evening, Mary commenced her promised recital. 'When Charles Wright harried us away from yoa, granny, I was so diszy with the crowd aboat as that I hardly know how we managed. He behaved civilly, for him, and took as to a man and said something; and the man bade as come along with him. So Charles left as, and we went on, and all I coald make oat was that I should be a plecener/
* What is a piecener ?^ said James.
' Oh, yoa'll hear presently. Well, after going throagh a good many places that I coald make little oat of, it was so dask, and we walked so fast, we came to a room, and the man pat me in there, and went off with Helen, before I knew what I was aboat, and what a sight I saw ! Nothing ever frightened me so much.'
' Why, you said nobody should frighten you in the mills,' remarked Willy.
' Nobody did frighten me, though the man that took me from the other looked as cross and spoke as gruff as old Buckle ; but only think, boys, what it most be to see ever so many great big things, frames upon carriages on each side of the room, walking up
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 119
to one aaother, and then walking^ baok again, with a hoge wheel at the end of each, and a big man taming it with all hiB might, and a lot of children of all naei keeping before the frame, going backwards and for- wards, piecening and scaTcnging — ^why, we all stared yesterday when that Mr. South said there was no sit- ting down; bat nobody would even think of it. Move, move, everything moves. The wheels and the fiames are always going, and the little reels twirl roand as fast as ever they can ; and the pulleys, and chains, and great iron works over-head, are all moving; and the cotton moves so fast that it is hard to piece it quick enough ; and there is a great dast, and such a noise of whirr, whirr, whirr, that at first I did not know whether I was not standing on my bead.'
'How funny r said James, laughing, 'but what was your work like ? *
' Why, you see, the frame goes sloping up so, and the bottom edge is about as high as this little table ; and the upper edge has got two rows of little rollers, and over them several other rows, that stand up ; and there are a great many cotton threads reaching from the bottom to the top of the frame ; and while the machine moves about, the threads go running up, and twist round .the little rollers above. Now the threads being thin and fine, they often break, and I have to keep a {p^eat watch, to get hold of the two ends when one breaks, and put them together, the same as in spinning.'
' It is spinning/ said Helen.
* Tes, it is ; but not a bit like Mrs. Barker's wheel and distaff, with only one thread to mind* The man at the wheel is the spinner, and when the frame
120 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
comes up the room he has to set his hand against it and push it hack, which is pretty hard work. The joining, or piecening, is easy enough when you get used to it.' . ' And what is scavenging ? '
' Oh, that made me laugh. You see, bits of cotton wool will stick to the thread, and they mustn't go on the reels ; so there is a little girl huddled up under the frame, and she snatches off ail the loose wool, and throws it down so fast ! and when the machine runs back, if the little scavenger did not bob and duck, and get very low, she would have a fine knock on the head.'
' Poor thing ! ' said Helen, ' she can never stretch herself out, hardly ; and she is almost choked and smothered in the dust of the light cotton bits that she has to pull and scatter about her.'
' I did not think of that,' replied Mary, ^ it amused me to see her so frightened and all in a bustle, so I laughed, and the spinner laughed to see me ; and he is like old Buckle, not so cross as he looks.'
' Did the scavenger laugh ? ' asked James.
' No ; she seemed angry, and muttered : I am sorry I was so thoughtless, granny, I will not laugh any more at her.'
* I hope not, my dear : all this is new to you, bnt you may find it very fatiguing before long ; and then how would you like to be laughed at by others ? '
* Nobody shall laugh at me.'
' You could not prevent it, Mary. Remember how often I have told you, that the choice of what we are to be and to suffer is not in our own hands. It be- comes us all, at all times, to submit humbly to what-
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 121
ever God sees fit to lay upon as ; and to help oar companions to do the same.'
' Yes, granny ; I will always snbmit to God ; bat I need not let my fellow-creatures domineer over me.'
* If the Lord makes them the means of afflicting as, Mary, it is to Him we submit. Bat we may not reason about it, since we have a positive command, '* Submit yourselves one to another." '< Be clothed with hamility.'' " Resist not evil." There are many more saoh passages in the Bible.'
Mary said nothing, bat she looked anoonvinced. Helen remarked, ' There is no resisting in a mill, for nobody can stop the great wheels always kept goiog by the steam. My work is among much bigger machines than Mary's, in the carding«room, where the cotton is palled out and prepared for the spinners.' '
* Do yoa walk about?' asked Willy.
* Yes, a good deal. There is plenty of bustling, and crowding, and harrying, but the work does not seem very hard. Phoebe Wright is in the same room.'
* is she civil ? ' Mary inquired.
* I hope I shall do nothing to make her otherwise,' answered Helen : and the widow felt that the qaes- tion had been evaded. In fact, Phoebe conld not restrain for a single day her bad feelings against the fSJitl whom she had scoffingly introduced among her new companions as a mighty great saint ; who sang piabus by way of payment for above a dozen years' boaid, lodging, and clothing, which a silly old woman bad given her at the expense of her own grand- children, now forced to leave a respectable home in
122 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
the country, and to work in the factories for bread. The first part of the information of coarse excited mnch laughter, the latter no less indignation : and poor Helen fonnd herself at once marked oat for the contempt and dislike of the people around her. She hoped it might wear off; but whatcTer ensued she resoWed in the strength of the Lord to sabmit, and never to giieye her friends by commanicating the trial to which their kinswoman had sabjected her.
Bat as time wore on, this was more difilcalt than she had anticipated ; for Helen Fleetwood with all her advantages was only a poor frail mortal, like others. Often did this determination of keeping her month as with a bridle, while the wicked was before her, cost a most severe struggle ; often did the silence she was constrained to keep from good words fill her with pain and grief. When she had once or twice attempted to reason with her persecutors on scrip- tural grounds, and found that her remonstrances were received with shouts of derision, and her quota- tions from holy writ blasphemously parodied by a few who, being the worst, of course took the lead, she felt that in this instance the pearls were trampled under feet by beings ready to turn and rend her, and she forbore to inflame their bitter hostility. Yet her compassionate heart longed to repeat wl^at might, she thought, be blessed to some poor children around her. The majority of her immediate com- panions were of her own and Phoebe's age, and seem- ingly hardened past all fear or shame; but some interesting and modest-looking little girls were mingled among them. Her greatest annoyance how- ever by far, was from the boys, who were often set on to insult her in ways more trying than the rest.
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 123
Still she endnredy as seeing Him who is invisible ; but when retaming to her home, when meeting the affectionate smiles of its beloved and loving inmatesy most galling was the restraint tiiat withheld her from claiming their ready sympathy. It woald have been so soothing to tell ont her sorrow to that maternal friend, and to listen to the simple bat sweet comforts that even the children conid supply. James would have found many an apposite text in his bible, and Willy have repeated or sang to her the hymns most suitable to such a case. But she saw the burden gradually increasing on her best earthly friend ; she discerned in Mary a growing spirit of discontent and disobedience; and she resolved, instead of adding her calamities to the general stock, to take a double share of those which oppressed her benefactress.
One week was sufficient to develope thus far Helen's position in the mill. Mary's was worse, inasmuch as she wanted the wisdom and the strength that Helen derived from on high. Impetuosity, self-confidence, and irritability were the little girl's prevailing dis- advantages ; her excessively open temper, and love of talk, rendered them evident to all about her, while her unsuspecting warmth of heart made it easy to win Mary's affection, and to impose on her credulity. A little flattering went far with her, if so adminis- tered as to suit her natural love of pre-eminence ; no child perhaps was harder to drive, but none more easily led. It may be supposed that such a charac- ter invited the various attacks of those who, amid the sameness of their disagreeable employment, were glad of any thing to diversify the scene : of others, who felt nettled at what frequently assumed the ap- pearance of a conscious superiority over themselves ;
124 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
and of that numerous class whose inherent love of mischief, or desire to reduce all to their own low level of morality, induced them to assail a new comer with temptations, mocks, or malicions ill-offices, jast as occasion or their own caprice might prompt. To say that all her companions belonged to one or an- other of these descriptions woold be saying too macb ; bat whatever good leaven there might be in the lump, was hidden beneath the aboanding evil, and worked unseen, as to any influence upon the mass.
The widow, as yet, saw nothing of all this : Helen's griefs were carefully hidden, and as the ground which little Mary had at present taken up was that of a very rare and perfect example among her comrades, she sustained the character at home with some sao- cess : but the old lady was beginning to see that a life of idleness would prove equally injurious to her boys with one of more general exposure: already they had made some unsuitable acquaintance in the street, for she could not cage them like birds in a narrow apartment — and by sundry pranks within doors had added force to the landlord's remarks on the folly of keeping them *like born gentlemen, with nothing to do. ^Tis no concern of mine, mistress/ he added, ' but yon seem such a respectable, indus- trious body yourself, and too sensible for any silly pride, that I do wonder you can't see the mischief of spoiling the lads for life.'
' But I want to find some .other way of living for them, rather than the mills ; and if I don't next week I shall send them to school.'
' Well, ma'am, you are the best judge ; but you must pay pretty high for a school where they can learn more than they know now ; and I can't see the
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 125
use of going over the same things twice. Boys get as idle at school as any where else, when they've no more to learn. As for employment, if you have friends among the gentry, not being mill-owners, yoa may get them into some service : or with a good round sum, you can bind them to a trade. But, as I said, 'tis no business of mine ; and as long as I get my rent, you're all heartily welcome under my roof.'
The last words sank deep ; for the rent of such respectable places was high ; and the widow had made some calculations that proved they must all, 'ere long, work for their daily subsistence. The Sa- turday afternoon brought in the earnings of the two gills; and she feltit was unjast to let them labour alone for the whole family. She therefore spoke to her landlord, who readily promised to obtain admis- sion for Willy into a silk-mill ; and pleased at what he considered a very sensible use of the advice he had given, the old gentleman offered to procure a little work at some sort of simple manufacture, such as netting, for James to do at home, until she could make up her mind to engage him also. The Sabbath found them all most thankful to enjoy its privileges unmolested; and poor HcIqu especially longed for the refuge of those courts of the Lord's house which were doubly and trebly endeared to her by the last few days' experience, and the too jast anticipation of what was yet to come.
In the course of the week Mrs. Green had found a Sunday-school far superior to that which she had before seen, and a ministry better suited to her need. Of both these the party availed themselves, and had scarcely finished their comfortable meal, and entered upon the sweet subject of their village home and
126 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
absent brother — when they were surprised by a tap at the door, followed by the entrance of Charles Wright, who civilly asked whether his coming was an interraption. 'The addition of another of my grand-children to our Sunday party must be a wel- come one/ replied the widow, drawing a seat near her own for this unexpected guest ; who, after pajring* some compliments on the very neat and pretty abode» proceeded with no small embarrassment to open his commission.
** Great and precious promises ** — ^yes, not only greats but precious too. Do you ask me h&w precious? Do you require an account of their value ? Look only to one text, '* Ask, and ye shall have; seek, and ye shall find : knock, and it shall be opened unto yoa/' Here is a cluster of promises in one verse : try if yoa can estimate the value of these alone, and then I may be able to give ,you some idea of the value of all these ** great and precious promises " so thickly scat- tered throughout the whole word of God. — Rev. F, Elwin*
127
THINGS OF OLD. No. I.
MIND AND MATTER.
Few persons will deny that the stady of antiquity is an interesting parsuit; fewer still will assert that it is not a beneficial occupation for the mind ; bat with these points I am not at present concerned, my object and my earnest desire is to shew that this study of antiquity, its records and its traditions, is highly nse- fal to the cause of our common Christianity.
A large view of ancient times and things is essen- tial to the proper formation of that mental chart of history (or, more correctly, of the Divine dealings with mankind), which each of us should endeavour to possess, and into which we should insert, each event of time, in its proper place, and in its due pro- portions.
In the minds of many persons, some one event or other occupies nearly the whole of this memorial scheme, to the exclusion of all, or at least of many others; and thus a narrow, prejudiced notion of the past is formed> derived from a part of its details, and not from the whole. Parts of a system are never viewed properly when viewed alone ; their most im- portant feature is their relative proportion and fitness to the whole.
128 THINGS OF OLD.
Let US take an illastration from a more familiar subject. Imagine two spectators ; the one seated by the side of a magnifice9t river, which is jast about, perhaps, to merge itself in the bright and boandless ocean. He sees its beauty and its breadth, be ad- mires its majestic flow, its verdant banks, its romantic scenery, — but that is alL
The other spectator we will suppose to be placed upon the top of a lofty hill ; before his eye lies, as in a mirror, the whole course of this mighty river, from its source, among the craggy clefts of the mountains, to the spot where it falls, broad and sweeping, into the sea. He sees it small at first, then gradually in- creasing,— here lost in a lake, there creeping through a morass, anon dashing over the brow of the cliff, a noisy cataract, — until spreading widely and bearing all before its tide, it rolls majestically through the rejoicing plains, and by the side of the stately cities, hastening to pour itself, in full and swelling magnifi- cence, into the bosom of the tumultuous ocean.
I do not ask my readers which of these two ob- servers most enjoys his prospect ; but which has the best idea of the river's course and progress ?
It is the same with the stream of time, that resist- less flood which bears us all onwards to the shoreless ocean of eternity. From the high ground of reading and research we command a clear connected view of its course, from its early Commencement in the wilds of a world now perished for ever, through its vari- ous windings among the fields of many nations, and past the renowned cities of Damascus, Jerusalem, Nineveh, Babylon, Rome^ and Byzantium; we see all these objects in their relative proportions, in their real situations ; and far beyond we discover, by the
THINGS OF OLD. 129
aid of prophetic visioD, and in a dimmer distance, the anion of the river with the sea, — Time swallowed op in Eternity.
It is my intention to embody, in this and a few fol- lowing papers, some extracts concerning antiquity, from Yalaable writers, whose works may not, perhaps, be in the possession of many among my readers ; thus attempting to clear and enlarge that mental view of the past enjoyed by some of the yonnger ' Christian ladies' who peruse this magazine.
The great division of creation, as far as it is yet known to us, is that into things which belong to the spirit, and those perceived by the senses ; or, in other words, the separation of all things into the two grand classes of mind and matter.
The first and eternal existence was the Divinity himself, an infinite, omnipotent mind ; and His first creation is presumed to have been that of other minds, finite indeed, and immeasurably inferior to Himself, yet in certain respects resembling Him. They were holy, wise, and happy ; but they did not all remain so. Some of them * sinned,' and ' kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation.' Concerning the cause and the nature of this fall, the following ac- count is given by Sharisthani, an Arabic author of the fifteenth century, who quotes it from the old dis- ciples of Zoroaster. I doubt whether a clearer nar- rative, or one more consonant to the incidental no- tices afforded by scripture, could be found in even a Christian writer.
* Light produced several beings, all of them spi- ritual, luminous, and powerful ; but their chief, whose name was Ahninan or Arimanius, had an evil thought emUrary to the light ; he doubted^ and by that doubting
FiBBVABT, 1840. &
130 THINGS OF OLD.
he became dark. Hence proceeded all evils : dissen- sion, malice, and eTcrything else of a nature contrary to the light.' Bjr < light' the Arab means the Divine Beneficence, always termed light by the oriental sages, in strict accordance with scripture. See 1 John i. 5, 8. John i%, 5, &c.
Sach, then, having been the event among spirits, — among beings consisting only of mind, — a new crea- tion next ensaed. A new form of subsistence was called into being ; matter was produced ; and '' God created '' the visible '^ heavens and the earth/'
We are not expressly told by the inspire^ historian whether the heavenly bodies which are unconnected with our solar system were formed previously to the sun and moon, or at the same time with them. The mention of *' the stars" (Gen. i. 16,) has been consi- dered to imply that they were then created, along with the sun and moon. The Hebrew gives no sop- port to the notion that the planets only are thereby intended; for the word there employed is the same always used to denote those glittering bodies which fill the visible heavens by night, whether planets or fixed stars. We shall enter farther into this subject hereafter.
Be this as it may, the production of matter was a mighty event in the history of creation, and called forth many new and amazing conditions of being. Hitherto, all existence having been comprised in the class of mind, time and space had been unknown to those beings who composed that purely spiritual uni- verse. But now a change took place. All had pre- viously been eternity ; but here time began. Periods and revolutions commenced ; and not only were the bounds of time appointed, but those of space were
THINGS OF OLD. ItJl
fixed also. Distance measared the extent of the new creation, and d^uration assumed ity existence* Ano- ther fresh and wondrons property of this material for- mation was motion. ' This was the first existence of motion ; for we can have no idea of motion previously to matter. It requires extension, shape, impulse ; all qualities of matter alone. The motion of spirit is a contradiction in terms. What can be the motion of bodiless intelligence?' (Crol^s Divine Providence, p. 19). And again, {Ihid. p. 49,) ' If to spirits matter were a new conception, motion, which altogether de- pends upon matter, must have been equally new.'
Tertnllian {Apology^ c. 22,) has a curious passage on this subject. *• Every spirit may be said to be winged, on account of its swiftness ; for they can be here, and there, and everywhere in a moment; the whole world to them is but as one place*
How different, then, nay, how opposite are the cha- racteristics of matter to those of mind ! The former entirely corporeal, — the latter all mental : the one, even wlien inhabited by a soul, slow, sensual, slug- gish,— the other spiritual, swift, intelligent : the one a cumbered, or even an inanimate substance, — the other a pure, unmixed intellect : matter limited by impassable bounds of space and time, which touch and repress it at every moment, at every movement, — mind free, aye, far freer than the winds of heaven, unfettered by limits which, to its nature, have no existence ; to it all the world is but '* as one place," and all time as only a point amid eternity.
If then such be the nature of mind, even of created and finite mind, what should be our conceptions of the creating, infinite mind of the Eternal? Space is indeed annihilated to Him who is at once every-
K2
192 THINGS OF OLD.
where present ; and what is time to that Being with whom '^ a thoasand years " are bat " as one day/' or even *' as a watch in the night?'"
A beaatifal allasion to the Divine Omnipresence is made by Dante, (one of the most scriptural Chris- tians that ever escaped and exposed the pollations of his mother-charch of Rome,) in his exquisite ver- sion of the Lord's Prayer.
' O Padre nostro, che ne cieli stai, Non circorucrifto, ma per piii amore Che k primi effetti di lassik ta taai,"—
(Din, Com, Pwrg, 11.)
thereby implying that the immediate presence of the divine glory is not confined to the highest heavens by space, or any other limit, but is induced to dwell there by a supreme love to the heavenly spirits and angels, the first creation of his power. He is not called ' Our Father in heaven' because he is not also present upon earth, but because it hath pleased him to manifest his power and majesty in a higher degree to the spiritual, celestial essences, than to our dim corporeal eyes.
Little indeed is all that we can conceive of Him from his works of creation, or even from the word of bis revelation. We know that He is everywhere, that he can do all things, and knows all things ; but what do we understand by these brief, yet unfathomable expressions? Can our limited spirit, rendered yet more helpless by the '' cage of flesh," in which it is imprisoned, conceive the idea of a Spirit pervading all things ? We speak of it, in established and con- ventional phrases, but can we, for a moment, enter- tain such a thought, in reality ? No ; for such an
THINGS OF OLD. 133
effort we mnst oarselves become infinite; no mind can realize such a property withoat possessing it.
Of the divine power, glory, wisdom, we can bat faintly imagine; ^tbey are more than haman, they are boundless,' we say, and there we stop, for we ean say no more. God has not been pleased to make known these His attribntes to ns under any fixed terms or descriptions whatever. There is bat one passage of His word in which He has deigned to reveal himself, by an explicit declaration. *The only word in which God ever defined His nature is Love.*— l>i». Prov. p. 9.
X. Q.
The civil mischiefs which may arise from Puri- tanism are to be watched with equal vigilance, and repelled with equal vigour as those from Popery. But the difference between the religious errors of each is immense. I have always regarded Popery rather as an impious and impudent combination against the sense and rights of mankind, than a species of religion ; while the differences which divided us from the Dissenters were of so trifling a nature, that their nuikinp a schism rather than conform, and our hazard- ing one rather than to indulge them in their scruples, will be the eternal opprobrium of both churches. — Bishop Warburtan,
134
STANZAS.
Lov'sT thou the page where moves along In pomp of words, the pride of song? And are thy daily musings ted, With visions of the mighty dead ? Deem'st thou that there a charm is found, Above mortality's dull round ? Deep of that spring thou drink'st in vain, 'Twill soon be thine to thirst again !
Or, is it by thine own fire-side Thy hopes with folded wings abide ? Content, with glad, yet patient song, To cheer life's daily hours along ? And still the burden of their strain, Heard at each pause — again— again, Does one sweet thought recurring come, * To love and be beloved at home ! '
Ah, deem not thou thy lowly hearth Safe from the stotms that sweep the earth ! For know, that day in following day, Must steai some charm of life away; And mark a change, though p'rhaps unseen, Twixt what is now, and what has been ; Or death, with, sudden touch, deface Each household picture's tender grace !
STANZAS. 135
Though wisdom's earthly lamp is bright, Thou followest but a meteor-light ! Though sweet the voice of love may be, ^Tis but the syren's song to thee, If on the earth it bids thee rest. Nor seek a home more truly blest, A rich inheritance above. Of perfect rest and perfect love*
Thine earthly joys from earth must pass. Like flowers amidst the nc^w-mown grass, Which, though they waved in evening air, When dawns the day they are not there ! Let better hopes thine heart engage, And may thy lines of heritage Fall in that fair and pleasant place — The kingdom of thy Saviour's grace !
M. A. S. B.
We believe, because God hath said it. The unbeliever accuses us of folly in this matter; but to me it seems more of folly that man should sit in judgment on God, than that he should humbly believe that his Maker hath dealt with him with a **love ihsii passeth knowledge." — Rev, T, Dale.
136
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
SARAH.
No. II.
Among the many figares used in scripture, to set forth the probationary state of God's servants in this world, there is none more striking than that in which, under yarious manifestations, it is represented as a pilgrimage. And what is a pilgrimage? It is a painful, toilsome journey, began with sacrifices, per- severed in with sacrifices, sustained by the hope of abundant recompense, and by the ultimate rest and refreshment of home* There is this, difference be- tween a pilgrim and a traveller. The former has but on^ object in view when he sets out on his journey ; the latter has many. The traveller inquires how he may vary his way, so as to take in all that can please the eye and gratify the taste in nature and in art : the pilgrim asks which is the direct road to the shrine where he expects a blessing. The traveller endea- vours to secure to himself the greatest amount of comfort, and the greatest freedom from personal in- convenience on his journey : the pilgrim thinks not of bodily hardship, or if he thinks of it at all, it is as of one of the voluntarily-incurred consequences of his condition. The one goes forth seeking to enjoy ; the other to attain. The one will gladly make a long circuit to avoid peril or loss ; the other will be
FEBfALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE. 137
willing to incur any danger or difficulty, rather than be delayed in his journey. Neirertheless it may so happen, that, without going out of his road, the pilgrim will occasionally meet with a bower of re- freshment, where he may sit and repose after the fatigues of the way,> where he may bathe his parched lips in the pure tranquil waters, and lie down fearless and undisturbed in the quiet enjoyment of the bounty and beauty ardund him.
The analogy holds good with respect to the spir- itual pilgrim. Heaven, and the rest which re- maineth after its attainment, are the objects which he has inYiew; for the acquisition- of which he is content to forego many present delights, and to en- dure mach present hardship and self-denial. Still, though resolute not to wander from his way at the call of ease or appetite, he finds, as he journeys on- wardy that all is not barren. On the contrary, he is often surprised at the full provision made for him, and breaks forth into rapture whenever by the power of the Holy Ghost he receives ^ome earnest of the promised blessing, some glimpse qf the heavenly rest. £ph. i. 13, 14.
Who can describe the emotions which must have filled the hearts of the pilgrims of Mesopotamia, when they reached their first halting-place in the land of Canaan 1 The wearisome journey was ac- complished, the Syrian desert passed, and Abram and Sarai b^eld the land '* which they should after receive for an inheritance." It was in the beautiful valley of Sichem that they first pitched their tents ; probably i|i the anticipation that this was " the rest and the refreshing'' provided for them, and that here they might dwell for ever. However fertile the
138 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
plains of Mesopotamia which they had left behind, the approach from the heij^hts of Gerizim or Ebal, whose rocky acclivities shot in the vale t>f Sichem, must have been sufficient to convince the pilgrims that the land of their futare sojoarn was '' a good land and a large, a land flowing with milk and honey, the glory of all lands." But was this indeed the promised inheritance ? Coald they pitch their tentd in this delicioas spot, assured that it was the country to which they had been called ? They were not left to doubt it. *^ The Lord appeared nnto Abram and said, Unto thy seed will I give this land/' This land with all its goodly mountains, its brooks of water, its fountains, ever-flowing, ever fall^ that spring out of their silent depths in valleys and hills ! This land, with its forests of fir and cedar, its clustering vineyards and its olive groves ! How- far the promises of God exceed in their fruition all that the heart could anticipate beforehand of their fulness ! *' The Lord had said unto Abraham, Get thee from thy country to a land that I will shew thee/' Abram obeyed, and went forth not knowing whither he went ; and assuredly he and Sarai mast have encountered many a dreary waste, must have endured the heat, and thirst, and weariness of the desert march, before they could pitch their tents upon the fertile soil of Canaan : but now how abun- dant is their recompense! Their eyes behold the earnest of the promised possession ; they rest in peace beneath the shadow of the tree of Moreh,^ they dwell in the land, none making them afraid.
1 The word translated " plain of Moreh,*' Gen, xii. 6, is supposed to mean *' tree of Moreh/' to which reference seems to be made, ch. XJOSY, 4. Joshua zxiv. 26. Judges ix. 6.
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE. 139
'' Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive the things which God hath prepared for them that love him." This is the declaration of scriptare concerning the comforts, consolations, and refreshments, provided for the believer, while on his way to the city of habi- tation. Other language is used to describe the joys of the eternal world. The *< things prepared " are such as the natural eye has not seen, nor the natural ear heard, nor the natural mind conceived of; but God has revealed them to his servants by his Spirit. They are '• the consolations of Christ " — ** the joy of the Holy Ghost '' — " the peace which passeth under- standing'' — " the hidden manna " — " the living foun- tain springing up into everlasting life.'' And greatly indeed does the Christian stand in need of such hea- venly refreshments ; for the way of repentance that leads unto life everlasting is a rough and dreary way, and full of dangers and' privations. The pilgrim upon that road has to encounter the heats of tempta- tion, the chills of earth liness, the storms of trial, and the weariness of perpetual watching and combat with *' the enemy in the way." Yet for all these there are seasons, when reposing upon the well- groonded hope of some promise of inheriting eternal life, and favoured with some earnest of the '' pur- chased possession," the divine assurance comes home to his heart, in all the realizing power of a direct and personal revelation — " Unto thee will I give it" And upon that altar, which has been sanctified and Oiade acceptable by the blood of the atonement, the sacrifice of praise to God is offered, '* the fruit of his ^ips giving thanks to His name."
£ven so did Abraham hallow the hour, when,
140 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
amidst the rest and refreshment of Sichem, the Lord appeared unto him and said, ** * Unto thy seed will I give this land : ' and there builded be an altar ante the Lord, who appeared unto him." What an epoch was this, not only in the history of Abraham as an individual, but of the world itself. Nearly four hun- dred years had elapsed since the last recorded '' altar unto the Lord " smoked upon the summit of Mbunt Ararat, and the blessing of God descended upon the only household that had survived the wreck of all the families of mankind. Great and many were the pro- mises made to the sons of Noah on that occasion : — the territorial occupation of the earth, the sovereignty of the creatures, and the assurance of exemption from the judgment of a second deluge : — promises, to the truth and faithfulness of which every succeeding age has borne witness. From this period until the be- lieving patriarch collected his household around the altar of Sichem, we read of no similar manifestation of man's recognition of God as the director of his way, the controller of his movements, the giver of bis life, the sustainer of his being. Men may have con- tinued for a while to call upon the name of the Lord ; but when Abram builded his altar, it was the only ex- isting shrine where the true God was invoked by bis creatures: — ^the one lone spot of all the earth where, morning by morning, the voice of joy and praise was heard from the dwellings of the righteous. We are not left to conjecture whether Abram was a solitary worshipper beneath the roof-tree of Moreh, or else- where in the many places which he consecrated to the service of Jehovah : — we know that he obtained peculiar approbation from God, for commanding bis children and his household after him *' to keep the
FEBCALB BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE. 141
way of the Lord/' to bow the knee before Him, and make mention of His name. What a beantiful and affecting service must that bave been, when, for the first time, the pilgrims of Mesopotamia assembled round the altar of Sichem ! There stood the patri- arch, in the twofold character of head of his house- hold, and their priest also. There, too, stood the childless Sarai, perchance masing in her heart con- cerning the divine revelation so lately received, ** onto thy seed will I give this land :" and there stood Lot, with all that train of homeborn servants which had accompanied him and Abram from Meso- potamia, *< the soals they had gotten in Haran:" — there, where in the same valley, aboat five centuries after, the tribes of Israel, newly put into possession of the promised land, assembled " to hear all the words of the law, the blessings and the cursings.'' It was by no unforeseen coincidence that Joshua selected the same spot for the erection of Israel's first altar of sacrifice, as that where the patriarch himself had made his public profession of the service of Jehovah. Neither was it a matter of choice on his part, but an act of obedience to the express command of God, declared long before by the mouth of Moses.. "On the day when ye shall pass over Jordan, into the land which the Lord tby God givetb thee, thou sbalt build an altar unto the Lord in Mount Ebal; and thou shalt offer burnt-offerings thereon unto the Lord thy God ; and thou shalt offer peace-offerings and shalt eat there, and rejoice before the Lord thy God." (Dent, xxvii.) And so we find the descend- ants of Abram taking possession of the land, in the very spot where the promise of God had been sealed QDto their believing progenitor; and we find them
142 FEMALE BIOGRAPRr OF SCRIPTURE.
like him, gathered together with their families in a solemn act of worship ; for not only are *' the elders, officers, and judges, and all the congregation of Israel recognized as present at this great sacrifice, bot mention is also made of '* the women and the little ones, and the strangers that were conversant among^ them."
What a contrast between these two worshipping assemblies! In the first we behold the head of a single family, in a land of strangers, establishing the service of the one true God among his relatives and dependants; treasuring up the scanty revelation of His will, and following with patient hope the' lead- ings of His providence through faith in the Divine promises : and in the last, we behold his seed, multi- plied as the stars of heaven, triumphantly taking pos- session of the promii^ed land, rich in the recorded will and worship of God, and rejoicing in the fulfil- ment of those 'Yery promises which their believing progenitors saw only ** afar ofl^," but which they were, fully persuaded of and embraced, by means of that faith which gives evidence of things hoped for, though yet unseen. Such are the blessings attendant upon the family altar ; such is the faithfulness of God in keeping covenant and mercy with his servants to a thousand generations.
The darkness which covered, the nations has in part been dispelled, . and now in place of the one family altar, there are thousands of worshipping households, daily drawing near to God, in the way of his own appointment, by means of the one perfect and sufficient sacrifice. But it would be too much to sup- pose that in every such assembly all are the true ser- vants of the God whom they profess to serve. How
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE. 143
many a Christian family so occapied might find their prototypes in that which was collected round the altar at Slcbem. One of that household, perhaps, like Abraniy confessing himself a stranger and pil- grim apon earth, devoted to the service of that God who hath called him to the hope of a heavenly inhe- ritance, and commanding his children and his house- hold after him to keep the way of the .Lord, to do justice and judgment: — another, like Sarai, a model of conjugal and matronly duty, but defective in faith, and through that deficiency too often contributing to mar the peace and harmony of her household: — the younger member, like Lot, wearying of the pilgrim's life, thirsting for the acquisition of this world's good; for a settlement in the land, and an intercourse with ' its ungo/lly inhabitants. And the servants also : some few like Eliezer, profiting by their privileges, bowing down the head and worshipping the God of their master ; fulfilling all their service heartily as unto the Lord, and becoming instrumental in conveying bless- ings to the families they serve : and others, like those disorderly herdsmen mentioned Gen. xiii. 7, who, in full opposition to the known habits of their employer, and to the precepts of the God of peace, spend their days in strife and contention with their fellow-ser- vants, bringing dishonour on the religious profession of their master, in the sight of his unbelieving neigh- bours, grieving his heart, and causing disunion, sepa- ration, and loss in his household.
God is the author of the. family, and of all the blessed results that flow from that master-contrivance of Divine wisdom. He is the God of all the families of the earth, though all do not know him as such. Bat there is now, as formerly, one family peculiarly
144 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
dear to him. The name which is above every name is apon them, the name of Jesas, *' of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named.'' While strangers and pilgrims below, they appear few and feeble compared with the aborigines of the soil, the children of this world : but in that day, when the Captain of their host, the heavenly Joshua, shall arise to lead them into that rest which remaineth, they will have become a great moltitade w|iom no man can number. The years of wandering com- pleted, the waters of the Jordan passed, — they shall enter with joy and gladness into possession of their heavenly inheritance ; they shall dwell there, and go no more oat, for theif rest shall be glorious.
Lydia.
DiEU nous a daigne exprimer Tunion spiritnelle aa Sauveur par des symboles les plus touch antes. II la peigne, dans les Ecrituies Saintes, sous les figures de Tunion des rameanx k Tarbre, des membres k la t^te, de la femme k son man. * * * Je ne tais pas comment il a plu au Sauveur de faire cette union intime entre Soi et son people; mais yiprouve que je ne suis qn'un rktne fl^tri, sans dtre uni k J6sus, comme mon cep ; que je suis une membre morte, si je ne suis pas uni k J6sns, comme ma t^te ; que je suis une &me veuve, sans dtre unie k J6sas, comme mon Epoux Eternel. — Dean of J .
145
A PRAYER,
AS BELITBRBD BEFORE A SERMON AT LONG ACRE EPISCOPAL CHAPEL, ON THE 8tH OF FEBRUARY, 1829, BY THE LATE REV. WM. HOWELS, M.^.
O THOU infinitely great and blessed God, whose love and coDQpassion are commeDsurate with thyself; this glorious troth is revealed to us in the most compre- hensiye manner in the gift of thy Son, to deliver and redeem us from this world, and to communicate the gift of thy Spirit, to invest us in a love which is to raise us from all the ruin and depths of the fall, and to preserve us in a state of purity and holiness, and consequently of peace for ever and ever. May these sublime truths constitute the delight and glory of our lives. We have been too long feeding on the trifles of time jand sense ; enable us to ascend above them and to live in thy presence; forgive us the wickedness of our past lives, and do thou be pleased, in the spirit of true religion, to lead us into the re- cesses of our hearts, to weep over our own sins and the sins of our nation, and at the same time to re- pose implicit confidence in thy promises, in thy mercy, and in thy love. Enable us to make a holy and wise use of all thy providential dispensations. Bless us at the present moment.: and, O thou God of heaven, be pleased to have mercy upon Britain, make her depart from iniquity, and cause thy church
FbBKVABT, 1840. L
146 A PBAYEIU
in every part of ber to fall down before tbee in dast and asbeSy tbrowing tbemselves upon tby covenant mercy, and raising a mighty bulwark of prayer for fbeir land. O forgive usj we beseech thee^ and let us not see the crown of England robbed of its brightest jewel, and thy enemies tahing the lead in our eounciU* We dare not prescribe any means ; at present we see none ; but tboa canst still disperse the dark doad banging over our beads. O preserve to us the con- stitution of our forefathers, O thou God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob : — thou bast commanded thy church to call upon thee in the day of trouble. Be with us, then, and preserve us ; lead us into our own bosoms, and make us remember that the sins of thy church are the most provoking and insulting to thee ; that judgment begins at the household of God ; that thou cbastisest thine own family before thou horlest thine enemies into destruction. If we are to smart for our sins, O lead us into the glories of true reli- gion, pour upon us thy Holy Spirit as a spirit of grace and of supplication, dispose thy church through- out Britain to wait upon thee, to be ceaselessly engaged in prayer. Hear us, O thoti blessed and merciful God, whilst we ask everything in the name and for the sake of Jesus. Amen. — {Extract from '. Prayers of the late Rev, Wm, Howells,* publis/ied by Hatchards, Piccadilly.
TO MEMBERS OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.
It is hoped that Others will be printed from this, and circulated throughout the length and breadth of the land.
147
FRENCH PROTESTANTS. No. II.
THE COLPORTEURS.
We are taagfat by oar Lord, that, thoagh the sower goes forth to sow the word of life, yet that the pre- cious seed may fall on the waste and barren groand, and strike no root; bring forth no frnit: o^ght we then to expect, that from every seed committed to the earth, the blade of corn mast arise? No; the eye of man cannot spiritaally discern between the waste places and the good groand : let then the pre* cioas seed be every where scattered ; this is the com- mandment of the Lord of the harvest; it is for him to give the increase. We walk by faith, not by sight : '* one soweth and another reapeth : ** those who laboar most earnestly in the cause of Christ are not always permitted to behold the>' plants of the Lord,'' which spring from the seed they themselves have sown ; and it is a Christian daty to preach the gospel to ail the world, even if it were rejected by every human being who heard it.
The labours of the colporteurs are instances of the faith which looks for encouragement to the word of the Lord, and not to the evidence of sense. From country to country, from village to village, from
LS
148 FRENCH PROTESTANTS.
house to house, where their steps never trod before, where they never may tread again, they go distribat- ing everywhere the Bible, and exhorting the people to walk by the light of this lamp of salvation.
The missionary who goes into heathen lands finds them overshadowed by the gloom of paganism. Like a mighty forest, whose giant trees have for ages past excluded the light and warmth of day, it casts a deadly shade on the life of man, intercepting and perverting the natural blessings and endowments of heaven. The nations of Europe, however, dwell not in darkness such as this : the forest has been levelled to the earth. But how? By the force of human reason? No; the light which modern philosophy does possess, it has drawn from the revelation which it denies: the knowledge which instructs man no longer to bow down before the vain idols of his own worl^manship, and conveys to him the idea of one Great Being, the Creator and Upholder of all this materia] world, was not obtained by the profound researches of the reasoning sceptic, but derived by him, however unconsciously, from Christianity.
A country in which the great doctrines of our faith, though disregarded and disobeyed, have long been known and acknowledged, is in a very different position, with regard to the reception of the gospel, from a heathen land.
The colporteurs, whose labours in the latter would be useless, have been found in the former among the most successful means in reviving, by the help of the Lord, the dormant spirit of Christianity.
The profound ignorance upon religions subjects which prevails among all classes of French society, is well depicted in the following passage, extracted
• »
FRENCH PROTESTANTS. 149
from Mr. Hartley's Treatise on the ' Progress of the Reformation on the Continent.' * Melancholy, how- ever,' says that aatfaor, * as has been the inroad of infidelity amongst Protestants, its yictory has been far more complete in Roman Catholic conntries. It appears to me, that almost the whole body of the male population in France and Italy are without any faith in the divine origin of Christianity. If we except the priesthood, the female sex, and a portion of the lower orders, the rest of the commnnity have appeared for a considerable period not only to be without the faith of Jesus Christ, but scarcely to be- lieve the immortality of the soul, orxthe existence of a Supreme Being. There are millions in France, and other Roman Catholic countries, who have never read the Christian scriptures in their lives. I once met with a professor in the University of Paris, who confessed to me that he had not read them ! '
It is to remove this ignorance that the labours of the colporteurs are directed, and the united voices of their Protestant brethren bear witness to the import- ance of their sphere of labour. * The want,' says one of the Protestant agents, * in which I stand of a colporteur is very great : I do what I can, but the prejudices of Popery are strong. Our brethren do what they can, as they have an opportunity; but their number is small. We want a person, impelled by a proper motive, to sell the scriptures ; to obtain entrance into private houses for the purpose of re- moving unfavourable impressions, destroying preju- dices, and interesting the people in favour of the true gospel, and paving the way for the minister. We believe the scriptures are in many houses, but not read ; and that we are, generally speaking, re-
150 FRENCH FfiOTBSTANTS.
spected : bot onr dootrines are not known, nor oar objects anderstood : we want in onr work a colpor- tear/ ' Le Golportear Chr6tien/ says tbe Rapport de la Soci6t^ Chr6tienne de Boardeaax, ' Men qaa- Iifi6.poar son odnvre, est, bumainement parlant, an des oaTriers les plus atiles k Textension da regne de Dlen. C'est lui qui sillonne p6niblement la terre encore incalte, et y r6paDd cette semenoe qa' aprds lai llnstitatear, TeTangeliste, et le pastear yiennent caltivar, et dont ils recaeillent les fraits aveo actions de graces enyers celai qui les a fait germer et m4rir a sa gloire.'
Tbe oooapation of tbe Colporteors, bowever, will be better anderstood by a few extracts from tbeir joamals ; tbe following is from tbat of a colportear named Kilfenbein, and dated from Lyons. ' Of tbe persons wbo baye been discbarged from tbe military bospital, some bave come to tbe boase to acknow- ledge tbeir tbankfalness for Bibles received, and bave sent otbers. An officer of tbe tbird ligbt foot, many sergeants and corporals of different regiments in the garrison, read witb interest tbe boly scrip- tares, and otber works of a profitable kind. In tbe number are some Protestant soldiers.' I received a letter from a corporal of tbe 41st regiment of tbe line, in wbicb be says : * On the first day of oar march I was, very unwell, bat my courage did not fail me, God gave me such hopes of meeting my parents. On the day after my arrival, I mentioned to them the happiness wbicb I bad in meeting yoa in tbe hospital, and your success in pointing out tbe way of salvation ; you may imagine bow happy I found myself in explaining that which you bad pre- viously communicated to me.' What Christian heeirt
FRBKCH PR0TBSTANT8. 161
will not rest with pleasare on that pietnred scene in the French peasant's cottage ! the son repeating to the aged parents the lessons of gnoe, learned on his sick-bed in the hospital! those parents, too, who probably scarcely knew before that there was a Bible, or ever heard mention of the name of God* Henry Lefebvre, who laboars in the nmthern dis- tricts, in one of his jonmals writes thus : * In the inn where I slept there were three young women, who were about to play at cards ; I asked them whether it would not be better to read a chapter in the gospel, or to sing a hymn ? They and others who were pre- sent approved, the cards were thrown aside, and we snng some hymns, which gave me an opportanity also of making some suitable remarks/ It must be obvious to every reflecting person, that a vast source of good is opened, by persons thus travelling in every part of a civilised and populous country with the Bible in their hands, ready to offer it to all who are willing to receive it, and accompanying the gift with exhortation and instruction. The word of God has even been carried to Algiers, by those who heard it first in a French, hospital, from the lips of the col- porteurs.
It has been said above that the very existence of the Bible is unknown to some of the French Pea- santry; we might say, probably to far the greater portion : nor only so, but it is unknown at Paris, even amongst those whose occupations would seem to re.nder sueh a fact impossible ; as an evidence of which we have the following anecdote : — At one of the suburban villages of London, lived a small shop- keeper, named T ; this man happened to be
chosen constable, an oflSce from which he used, in
152 FRENCH PROTESTANTS.
vain, every eodeayour to be excusedy being aware that it would involTe him in considerable difficalty and distress.^ The village was one in which neither the laws of God or man, with regard to the Sabbath, were obeyed ; T-— - felt, when he became constable, it was his daty to insist npon the shops being closed^ and the outward appearance of business, at least, put a stop to, on the Sabbaths This end he steadily pursued, though aware of the consequences he should draw down upon . himself, and which came in the desertion of his own shop by those whom he had thus oflfended, and the ruin of his little trade. The Euro- pean Missionary Society being applied to, appointed him one of their agents in Paris, whence be has since continued ; it is by him that the following fact is related. In the course of his visits he met with a person who requested him to procure a French
Bible. T not having one, went to a shop in
Paris ^ purchase it. 'We aslted for a Bible ; it was an unusual request: the woman who kept the shop did not think she had such a thing: after long search, however, she produced a copy, not of the Bible, but of a Roman Catholic history of the Bible ; perhaps it may be said that there was nothing remarkable in not finding a Protestant version of the scriptures at a French bookseller's ; but this was not a version of the scriptures at all, not even a Roman Catholic version.* The agent objected, * that was not the Bible.' ' Not the Bible ! * exclaimed the woman, very angrily, ^ do you think I do not know the Bible ? * T— — >, of course, persisted in his assertion, upon
1 The name of fhe person and of the village are both known to the writer, although not mentioned, having been heard at a private meet, ing, in the house of a friend.
FRENCH 7B0TBSTANT8. 153
which the womao grew yet more angry, and deeUred that for twenty yean, she had kept a bookseller's shop in Paris, and never seen any other Bible tlian that!
The spirit of Protestantism, rejecting all human doctrines and traditionary records, rests its faith only upon the Bible. It would therefore fain carry this lamp where it deems the light of saWation to pro- ceed, to eVery comer of the habitable earth ; it would baYc its sacred words repeated in every language pronoonced by the tongue of man, that' all may ** know the Lord," according to His own word, — " Search the scriptures, for in them ye think ye have eternal life, and they are they which testify of me." May he bless the labours of his servants, and cause the knowledge of his word to overspread that fair kingdom, whence it has been so long proscribed, yea, even almost banished.
.B.
[If any of our friends are disposed to lend a little aid to this work of tlte colporteurs, we can inform them of a most providential opening for the employ* ment of a large number, where the men are ready for their work, and nothing wanting but funds to carry it on.— £d«]
154
ON THE PHRASEOLOGY OF THE NEW
TESTAMENT.
No. I.
By L. H. J. tJ
In the excellent preface to the aathorized version of the Holy Scriptures, drawn np by Dr* Smith, after- wards Bishop of Gloacester, depated to perform this task by his fifty-foar brother translators, we find the following passage : —
' Reasons inducing us not to stand curiously upon an
identity of phrasing.
* Another thing we think good to admonish thee of, gentle reader, that we have not tied ourselves to an uniformity of phrasing, or to an identity of words, as some peradventure would wish that we had done, because they observe that some learned men some- where have been as exact as they could that way. Truly, that we might not vary from the sense of that which we had translated before, if the word signified the same thing in both places, (for there be some words that be not of the same sense everywhere,) we were especially careful, and made a conscience, ac- cording to our duty. But that we should express the same notion in the same particular word, as for ex- ample, if we translate the Hebrew or Greek word
PHRASEOLOGY OF THE NEW TESTABfENT. 155
once by purpose, never to call it itUent ; if one where journeying J never travelling; if one where think, never suppose; if one where pain, never ache ; if one where joy, never gladness, &c. ; thus to mince the matter, we thought to savour more of cariosity than wisdom, and that rather it would breed scorn in the atheist, than bring profit to the godly reader. For is the kingdom of God become words or syllables? We might also be charged (by scoffers) with some unequal dealing towards a great number of good English words. So if we should say, as it were, unto certain words, stand up higher, have a place in the Bible always ; and to others of like quality, Get yon hence, be ba- nished for ever — we might be taxed, peradventure, with St. James' words, namely, '* To be partial in owsehes, and judges of evil thoughts.* '
Nothing can be more sensible or more just than the preceding remarks, or more in accordance with the usual procedure of the inspired writers, who are by no means nice or curious in their quotations from the Greek of the Septuagint, or their translations from Hebrew into Greek.
Still it is very desirable to know the precise and exact import of words. The Greek scholar * soon perceives this when reading the New Testament in the original tongue, for he will frequently find that an English word occurring twice or oftener in the same passage, is the representative of different Greek words, resembling each other indeed but by no means alike. This will be evident from some examples shortly to be adduced ; and the object of the present
1 Amongst GT9tik§ehiolan I am confident I mayinclnde many of the it^en of the Christian Lady's Magazine, as the .dellghtM aooom- pUshment of Greek and Hebrew is daily gaining ground amongst the dianning and better half of haman Und.
156 PHRASEOLOGY OF THE NEW TESTAMENT.
papers is to point oat these differences wlierever they are so remarkable as to throw a new light upon any passage of scripture^ or to shew in more striking colours the " mantfbld wisdom of God*' A right knowledge of the true import of words will also fre- quently prevent us from basing argument or contro- Tcrsy on the supposed identity of words which in reality differ.
»
REST.
A most striking instance of this is to be found in Heb. iv. 1. — Let us therefore fear lest, a promise being left us of entering into his REST, any of you should seem to come short of it. ver. 3. For we which have believed do enter into REST, as fie said^ As I have sworn in my wrath, if they shall enter into my REST : although the works were finished from the foundation of the world. For he spake in a captain place of the seventh day on this wise. And God did rest the seventh day from all his worhs. And in this place again. If they shall enter into my REST. Running oyer the parenthesis to the 11th yerse — Let us labour therefore to enter into that REST, lest any man fall after the same example of unbelief — ^and now turn- ing to the verses in the parenthesis, which contain the explanation of what the rest is, and the analogy between it ; and the Almighty's rest from the works of creation as well as the rest of the Israelites, after the wanderings in the wilderness, — we read in the 8th verse — For if Joshua had given them REST, then would he not afterward have spoken of another day.
Now the word rest has occurred six times as a noun substantive and once as a verb ; and when, in the 9th verse, we find, as a corollary to the proposi- tions contained in the parenthesis, — There remainetk
PHRASEOLOGY OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 157
therefore a REST to the people of God, — the English reader naturally concludes that the word rest is the same throughout the passage ; but this is not sp. The word rest throughout this chapter, (excepting only in the 9th verse, which is, in fact, the key-stone to the whole argument) the word in the original is turoMowTis {anapausis) cessation from toil, turmoil, and disquietude — rest. It is the same word which our ever-blessed Redeemer uses in that address which sounds so sweetly and so tenderly in the ears of the oppressed and ' wasted with misery *> — Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy-laden^ and I will give you REST; and it is the same word which sounds with so awful an import in Rev. xiv. 11. — And they have no REST night or day, who worship the beast and his image ; and whosoever receiveth the mark of his name. But the REST which St. Paul (Heb. iv. 9.) logically proves to remain to the people of God is something more than an anapausis* The word here used occurs but this once in the New Testament. It indeed sig- nifies all that anapausis does, but it embraces a much wider signification. It is aaBfiariffnos (sabbatismos) a Sabbatism ; that blessed rest of which the earthly Sabbath (precious privilege !) is a faint and imper- fect fore-shadowing. This most important view of this passage opens a sweet field for meditation and reflection — a vein of ' fine gold ' which I will not cause to ' grow dim,' by unnecessary comment. But I must venture humbly and with diffidence to sug- gest that this passage offers a striking corroboration to the Jewish tradition, that the seventh millennium (or period of a thousand years) of the world's dura- tion is to be the season of the accomplishment of the glorioul promises to the church.
138 PHRASEOLOGY OF THE NEW TESTAMENT.
The next passage to which I woald call attention is of an opposite description: it is one where the same Greek word is represented by different English words.
St. Paul, in the second e))istleto the Corinthians, v. 2, looking forward in strong faith to the glorious period of the resurrection of the saints, says. For in this we groan; earnestly desiring to be clothed upon with our HOUSE which is from heaven. And St. Jude^ in the 6th verse of his epistle, speaks of the angels who kept not their first estate, (or principality) hut left their HABITATION.
Now the connexion between these two passages is by no means apt)arent in our translation, but in the Greek we find that *' house '^ and '* habitation " are the representatives of the word ounrniptoy, {oikete* rion,) which no where else occurs in the New Testa* ment It must be observed, moreover, that ** tlie earthly house of this tabernacle,** spoken of by St. Paul (2 Cor. V. 1), immediately preceding the verse already quoted, is oMia (literally home), not Queirniptw^ as in the second verse.
I do not presume to draw any conclusion from these two remarkable passages, further than to express my opinion that the future resurrection-state or home, unto which St. Paul so earnestly desired and groaned to attain (compare Phil, ill* 11), is to be a similar state to that from which certain angels fell, which is confirmed by our Lord (Luke xx. 36), wbo there says, speaking of those *' which shall be accounted worthy to obtain that world and the resurrection from the dead/' says that they cannot "die any more: for they are
PHBASEOLOGY OF THE MEW TESTABfEKT. 159
equal vnio the angeU; and are the children of God, being the children of the resurrection, (See also Mark xii. 25. and 1 Cor. vi. 3.)
The analogies in the preceding passages I have not before seen noticed. The word on which I am now going to offer a few remarks has been often com- mented on, and its trae meaning pointed out ; but that meaning is so important that I cannot pass over this opportnnity of allnding to the word.
" AvoffOty Again, or from above."
John iii. 3. Except a man be bom again^ he cannot tee the kingdom of God, It will probably be known to most of yoar readers that the word again is in the original Ajft»e&f (andthen)^ the primary signi6cation of which is **from above ^* and is thus translated in the Slst yerse of the same chapter — ^O aa^w ^px^iJMfos^ He thai Cometh from above is above all; and again, He that Cometh from heaven is above alL
Bat oMi^cr is also an adverb of time, signifying from thefirsty or beginning, and thas we are told that they who will enter into the kingdom of God were " chosen in him before the foundation of the world.*' (Eph. i. 4.) Compare also Rev. xx. 15. with Rev. xvii. 8.
The third signification which may be given to on»9ffF is that of the authorized version— again.
To meditate upon this passage, however, with profit and edification, we should allow our minds to em- brace the three significations — Except a man be born again, from above, and by the sovereign power and electing mercy of God, he cannot enter into the king- dom-^ he cannot even see it.
160
ON SUNDAY SCHOOL TEACHING.
May the new year, recently nsfaered in, have brought with it an increased interest in behalf of the children of oar land. How many yoang ladies are there whose talents and piety (consecrated to the glory of God) might be nsefally employed (on that portion of the Lord's day not engaged in the public services of the day) in teaching in Sunday schools already esta- blished, and making efforts to establish them where there are none. Oh! my dear young friends, as a Sunday school teacher, I ask, will you not help for- ward this blessed, this Important work? Will you not do what you can to sow ffood seed, while the enemy is so busy sowing tares ? Popery is on the increase. Infidelity is on the increase. Shall we sit still and do nothing. Let me entreat those who have hitherto done nothing to further this work, to ask themselves one question, (if professing to follow Christ), Why am I not a Sanday school teacher? And if it should pleasp God to make this humble ap- peal a means of stirring up any one to join themselves to the ranks of those who are labouring amongst the young, to Him be all the glory who has said, "Suffer the little children to come unto me;" ''My word shall not return unto me void."
A Lover of Babes.
161
EXTRACT
FROM THE THIBD ADDRESS OF THE HERTS REFOR- MATION AND PROTESTANT ASSOCIATION.
Let as be assured of the certain trtumpA of the gospel of Christ over all its enemies ; this will animate us to intercessory prayer* It is predicted of our Lord, ** He shall not fail nor be discouraged till he have set judgment in the earth, and the isles shall wait for his law.'^ Every changing scene of Providence, all the subtle schemes and politics of men, all the stub* bornness of evil, all the temporary triumphs of his enemies, only prepare the way for the wider, deeper, fuller, and everlasting triumph of Christ our Lord over every Antichrist opposing his truth and grace, and all his purposes of love to man. In the assured conviction of this we are taught by our Lord to direct oar first and chief prayers for this glorious issue, '' Hallowed be thy name ; thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven."
It may farther quicken us more largely and fully to unite in fervent prayer, to remember that the Papists have formed a Society to pray for the convert sum of England to Popery. They profess to feel that prayer is the mightiest engine for working on the human mind, and they are patting this engine to work in their way, by addresses to the saints, and by idolatrous masses. Let their zeal, not ac- cording to knowledge, stir us up with scriptural wisdom and enlarged love, fervently to pray to the
FSBRVABT, 1840. M
162 HBRTS PROTESTANT AS|SOCUTION«
Father of our spirits, the God who is a Spirit, and who reveals himself to us as light and love, and to whom we may always, hy Christ, have access through one Spirit, that he would effectually succour his true church in these her last conflicts with his enemies.
The ways by which prayer will express itself are various and multiplied. It is not requisite here to enlarge upon these ways. All the passing events which come before us, such as the assembling of Par- liament, the Queen's marriage, and public measures affecting our common Protestantism, will furnish the Christian with fresh occasions and calls for interces- sion. Let the same desire which marked the dying prayer of our good King, Edward YI. come more into our daily prayers, *' O my Lord God, defend this realm from Papistry, and maintain the true, religion, that we and all thy people may praise thy holy name, for thy Son Jesus Christ's sake." Private prayer in our closets is to b& first attended to. In this we can freely enlarge according to our time, circumstances and knowledge, as Abraham did for Sodom, and Daniel and Ezra for the Jews. Earnest intercession, not only for our country and its deliverance from those sins which bring down God's displeasure, and that system of corruption and tyranny which is equally dishonour- able to Christianity and enslaving to all its adhe- rents, should first be made ; we should also enlarge our prayers, that God's people, now immersed in Babylon (for never let us forget there are real Chris- tians ensnared by this apostacy), may come out and be separate from it, and escape those last plagues which God has predicted. (Rev. xviii. 4.) Prayer in the family gives the Christian parent or master ano- ther opportunity of fulfilling this great duty. Let the welfare of the Protestant churches be more and more
HERTS PROTESTANT ASSOCIATION. 163
thoagbt of by as in domestic worship, and an increas- ing Tolame of prayer, lilce holy incense, ascend from ail the families of the faithful through the land in behalf of onr country. Prayer in social and reli- gious Meetings, may well be made to include petitions and intercessions on a subject so vitally connected With our national prosperity, and the ultimate success of every other religious, or charitable, or social object of interest. In times of apostacy and avowed wickedness the servants of God should and will often meet together to encourage each other in God's ways, and they will be spared and blessed in doing so. (Mai. iii. 13—18.) In public worship the church of England has important Protestant anni- versaries, especially the 5th of November and the Queen's Accession, when there are suitable prayers for those interesting occasions. Let those days be more observed by us. Our church also leads us con- stantly to pray that God would deliver us '* from all false doctrine, heresy, and schism,*' which are the very characters of Popery in our country. It leads us also to pray that it may please God to *' bring into the way of truth all such as have erred and are deceived ; " and well may we include our erring bre- thren of the Roman church in such petitions.
Let us only really feel the unutterable and primary importance of that high and positive duty and that g^at privilege of prayer, which is in the power of e^ery faithful Christian, and let us in all practicable ways **lift up everywhere holy hands without wrath and doubting,'' and soon the present clouds would pass away, and the Sun of Righteousness in fuller splendour than ever shine on our beloved land, and make us the salt of the earth, and the light of the world.
M 2
164
CHARITABLE SOCIETIES.
No. I.
** The poor ye have always with yon/' was the de- claration of one who saw at a glance the world in all its conditions^ present, past, and fatare, of happiness and misery. He knew, that so long as earth remained the abode of sin, it would also be the abode of sorrow ; and that his people should ever meet in their pil- grimage some to claim their sympathy, some to whom, having freely received, they might freely give. And while he pleaded the cause of the poor, and preached his gospel peculiarly to the poor, never did he for a moment suggest the thought, that before the glory of the latter days a time would come, when the poor should cease out of the land.
More than eighteen centuries have passed away, and still there are poor. Their number is not smaller, nor their wants less pressing, in England than in Judaea. And the Redeemer's commands re- specting them remain unrepealed, and shine in the same page with those promises of divine forgiveness, which form at once the motive and example for human mercy.
Christ has not changed— the Bible has not changed — the wants of the poor have not changed : but neither has man's nature changed. That still remains as
CHARITABLE SOCIBTIBS. 165
ever, cold and selfish, adorned with the name of Christianity, but uninflaenced by its power. So that except where heavenly grace has descended into the seal, or an aneasy conscience sought peace in its own efforts, men, though Christian in name, have left their poorer brethren as wretched and miserable as they were when heathen.
Still the gospel has shone amidst the darkness of human nature. It has illuminated and warmed many a heart, and melted the icy chains in which the breasts of men are bound by nature. Its unmeasured mercy has imparted something of its own kindly glow to all who have received it, rendering them, at least in will, lighthouses to cheer and gladden the world in which they are placed.
Every advance of true religion, every triumph of the gospel over the power of the prince of darkness, has a natural tendency to increase the number of those lighthouses, and brighten the lamp within them ; 80 that in our age of scriptural knowledge we may well expect peculiar illustrations of Christian bene- Tolence.
It is not, therefore, a matter of surprise that vari- ous societies for charitable purposes should spring up in every part of the land. We have a right to look for District Societies, and Benevolent Societies, and Clothing Societies, and other similar institutions, having for their object the relief of the spiritual or temporal necessities of our poorer brethren. It is scarcely a matter of congratulation that they exist ; it were so deep a disgrace if they existed not.
The mere existence however of such societies is of little use, unless they effect their proper object. If in any respect their aim be wrong ; if their princi-
166 CHARITABLE SOCIETIES.
pies of action be unsoand ; if their practice be formed on another model than that laid down in scriptare — it is not enough to say that they are inefficient, or even that they are useless. They are worse than useless, they are positively injurious ; for such socie- ties are the window, through which the scattered rays of Christian benevolence are admitted into the dwellings of sorrow — the reservoirs which collect the treasures of skies and brooks, again to distribute them in channels through the thirsty land — the heart into which the rude supplies of vital energy are col- lected to be thence discharged through the arteries into every part of the system ; and if the windows be too contracted — the reservoir unsound — the heart in- active, they only obstruct the transmission of water, and light and life, and prove the sources of misery rather than of blessing.
It becomes therefore an object of interest and im- portance to examine well whether these powerfiii engines are planned, and framed, and worked in such a manner as to effect the intended good and avoid incidental evil. For it is idle to expect satisfactory results from the machinery, if the wheels are clogged, the pios loosened, or the valves improperly adjusted. From such a state of things nothing can follow, but complete failure and the gradual wearing away of the machine itself.
The class of societies to which I have alluded, and which may be all comprehended under the general name of Benevolent Societies, differ from that other class of Auxiliaries to Parent Institutions, as in many other respects, so especially in this, that they differ from one another. One Bible or Missionary Association is an exact type of all other Bible or
CHARITABLE SOCIETIES. 167
Missionary Associations. Bat with Benevolent So* cieties the case is very different. Almost every in* stitation, with many features of family resemblance, has some distinguishing characteristic, which di- vides it from all others, sometimes to its injury, sometimes to its advantage* It would therefore be unfair to include all such societies in one sweeping sentence of praise or censure ; and to examine the details of each separate one apart is evidently im* possible.
But as we are able, without censuring either par- ticular individuals or whole eommunities, to take notice of prevalent errors, so, while approving the general plan of these societies, and not throwing blame on any specific member of the group, it may not be difficult to trace the rise and growth of evils gradually spreading into the system, infecting per- haps one part fatally, another slightly, and a third scarcely at all ; yet insensibly poisoning the life and vigour of the whole frame.
L.L.
This 53rd chapter may well be called the Gospel of Isaiah. Subtract names of places and of persons, (Herod, Pilate, and so forth,) from the four evan- gelists, and they scarcely give a more minute pic- ture of Jesus' sufferings than does this chapter, even down to . the particulars of his burial. — Rev. F. Goode.
168
THE INFANT DANGEROUSLY ILL TO ITS
MOTHER.
With Jesa's arms around me,
With Jesas ever near ; Though pain and sickness boand me.
My mother, canst thoa fear ?
I see thee watching nightly My harried breath as now ;
I feel thy loved hand lightly Upon my chill damp brow.
Yet One who loves more dearly
Is watching o'er my rest, And He who seeth clearly
Will govern for the best.
Though pangs succeed each other, Each struggling for my breath,
Fear not, my own loved mother, He hath the keys of death.
And oh ! if he should call me
To all the joy above, Could greater bliss befal me
Than share a Saviour's love ?
THB INFANT TO ITS MOTHER. 169
I've heard thee speak in angaish
. Of friends who left life drear. Bat, there I coald not languish
O'er broken links held dear.
The struggle of the spirit,
The warfare for the crown, Unfelt, I should inherit
The bliss without the frown.
Tet, mother, he may leave me
To bless thine anxious prayers ; Bot though the grave receive me,
'Tis love that crowns or spares.
Ah ! seek to mingle sadness,
lyith trust in Jesus' love ; And we shall meet in gladness,
My mother dear, above.
Alice Gbraldine.
Let God alone to do His own work. There n^ver was, apparently, a more grievous day for the church than this, on which her Head was slain, and His humanity lay in the gloomy grave. But had the church had eyes to see it, this was the most glorious of all days to her; her redemption was accom- plished, her leader had said, ' It is finished ! '—12tfr. F. Goode.
170
LETTERS TO A FRIEND.
IV.
ScoTUy Hibernia, Irelanda and Ogyg^a were names given to Ireland. The sons of Milesias called it Scotia in honour of their mother, Scota, who was slain in a battle fought at a mountain in Munster, called Sliabhmisy A.M. 2737, before the birth of Christ 1296 years. This is said by the best of the early Irish historians. Others of a later date, attribute the name to other causes ; but all agree that it was called Scotia Major, and Scotland Scotia Minor.
Scota was the daughter of Pharaoh, king of Egypt, and the mother of Gad el as, from whose name the Irish language is called Gaelic, or Gelic. He was one of the eight sons of Milesius. From another of whom (Ebejrns Fionn) Ireland was named Hibernia ; and from his fifth son Ir, being the first of his race buried in the island, it was called Irlanda.
The name of Ogygia (which signifies a very ancient thiug) was given by reason of its remote antiquity. Plutarch calls it Insula perantiqua. The Gadelian monarchy lasted 2468 years.
Policronicon and other foreign authors, call the Milesians, or posterity of Gadelns, Scyti, or Scy- thians. Sir James Ware says, ' The learned know how common the name of the Scythians is among ancient writers^ and it is a received opinion of the
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 171
most diligent enquirers into the antiquities of Ire- land, that the European, or Celto Scythians, divers times sent colonies into Ireland/' From these Scy- thians proceeded that race of kings which ruled Ire- land so long; in number 181, all of the same bloody in a direct line from Milesius and his son Gadelus.
The Scythian language is one of the most ancient, and found to be the same aa the Irish language.
Scota was the daughter of Pharaoh Cingris, whose grandfather was the great Feniusa Farsa, king of the Scythian nation, who applied himself to the study of letters, and the knowledge of the several languages which the confusion of Babel introduced into the world 60 years before, according to the account of cbroniclefs of great antiquity. The number of lan- guages was 72.
* From the confusion at the tower of Babel, Till Finiosa Farsa from the north arrlyecU Was sixty years.'
He founded a university at Magh Seanair, near Athens, where Niul, his second son, was born, and educated for twenty years. All which time Fininsa Farsa remained president over the schools, and in- vited to them all the youths of the adjacent countries ; that they might attain the knowledge of the universal langoages. At the invitation of Pharaoh Cingris, Nini went to Egypt, in order to instruct the youth of that country, and the king was so much pleased with his learning and wisdom that he gave him his daughter in marriage, a princess of rare beauty, &c.
Niul erected schools and seminaries of learning in Capicirunt, and taught the sciences and universal languages to the Egyptian youths. Pharaoh Cingris was the king of Egypt who, with all his host, was
172 LETTERS TO A FRIEND.
drowned in the Red Sea ; and by his successor, Nial, with his family and adherents, were driven oat of Egypt, according to the account of Walsingham, in his Hypodigma. ' The Egyptians being oYerwheimed by the Red Sea, those that remained drove out a Scy- thian prince, who resided among them, lest he should taJce advantage of the weakness of the government, and make an attempt upon the crown. When he was expelled the country, with all his followers, he came to Spain, where he and his people lived many years, and became numerous, and from thence they came into Ireland/
At the time of a great scarcity, when, by reason of a long period of dry and parched weather, provisions failed in Spain, these people, having much confidence in the courage of their soldiers, resolved on seeking out a more plentiful land to dwell in, of which, by force of arms, they might acquire the possession. To this they were in some measure directed by the pre* diction of the chief among their priests, or Druids, Caicer by name, * that the posterity of Gadelas should obtain possession of a western island,' which was Ireland.
After much consultation, Ith, the son of Breogair, was despatched to make the discovery, and he arrived upon the northern coast of Ireland with 150 resolute men.
Before he proceeded to explore the coantry, he offered sacrifice to Neptune, but there were inauspi- cious omens.
The landing of such an army attracted a number of the inhabitants, with whom they had no difficulty in communicating, their language being Scythian, as well as their own, all being of the same race, the de- scendants of Magog.
LBTTEBS TO A FRIEND. 173
The language of Nemedias, the Scythian, and his people, and consequently of the Firbolgs and the Taatba de Danans,* were the same.
Ilh left one-third of his men to gaard his ships, and with the remainder, and his own son Lngha, he advanced into the island, escorted by the people who came to meet him with nnsnspicioas coartesy, and giving him all sach information as he required. He, in return, satisfied their inquiries by telling them who he was, and from whence he came. Being de- sirous of knowing something of their government and rulers, he was directed to Oileach, a northern dis- trict on the confines of Ulster, where he had a con- ference with the three kings who divided the land amongst them, and at this time had met by mutaal agreement, in order to. decide about a rich possession of jewels which had been beqaeatbed to them by a relative, in so uncertain a form that they were at a loss to find out whether only one or each of the three might claim the inheritance, they being brothers. After a short conference, Ith gained their entire con- fidence, and they submitted themselves to his deci- sion in regard to the subject of their dispute,
Ith carefully concealing the real motive of his visit, told them that stress of weather had driven him upon their island, and that as soon as possible he would take his departure. Instead of which he made all possible delay, traversing the country to the difierent residences of the three princes, where he was hospitably entertained, and by his wisdom,
1 There is a mistake in the spelling of ttiis word by tbe printer in the former numbers of the Magazine. Danau» instead of Danans. Then are fonnd many other mistakes in the orthography, oi the Irish chiefly.
174 LETTERS TO A FRIEND.
discernmeDt, and learning, gained more and more their esteem. He gave them much good counsel, setting before them the abundant cause they had for living in tranquillity and unanimity among them- selves, under such advantages as were rarely to be found ; a country so fruitful, sufficiently watered with ever- flowing rivers and streams, the air so balmy, the woods, hills, and dales so luxuriant in foliage and verdure, so that no other country could be compar- able to it for pleasantness and beauty.
At length the time came when Ith said he mast return to his own land, and he took leave of the three kings, each in their turn, who were the sons of Gear- mada of the Tuatha de Danans. But his praises had stirred up in their mind strong suspicions that he had some concealed intention of possessing him- self of that which he so greatly admired, and that they should feel the effects in the intrusion of a foreign foe, which, no doubt, on his return he would collect. In order to prevent such consequences, they hastily summoned a number of followers equal to those by which their visitor was attended, and unex- pectedly fell upon him in the rear. Ith stood the attack with unexampled bravery, and forced a re- treat, until he came to a place afterwards called Muigh Ith, from the e?ents of that day. Here his little army faced about, and after a desperate and bloody conflict, they escaped to their ships, bearing with them their leader, mortally wounded.^
1 By some it has been said that this account of the invasion of Ircr land most be a fabrication, by reason of the art of navigation being anknown, as also the use of the chart and compass ; and that there was no such thing as shipping known in the world at that period of time when it is said the Milesians invaded Ireland. But this assertion is founded in the grossest ignorance : for since the deluge there has at
LBTTEBS TO A FRIEND. 175
least been some kind of shipping:. Noah's ark was a grreat ship, built by the order and under the direction of the Almighty } and this yessel may have served as a model for other vessels, whereby, soon after the flood, men passed from island to island, peopling different nations, accordingly as Divine Providence marked out for them the bounds of thtir habitation. Several islands, far remote in the seas, were inha- bited by the increasing posterity of Noah, long before the use of chart or compass was discovered. To deny this, would be to deny what the most early accounts aiBrm. And cannot that God who endowed man with intelligence and the means of inventing the (diart and com- pass, be his pilot without them ? Great and small ships are mentioned in the Bible. St Paul sailed in a large ship, since there were on board S76 souls. There are many records in Irish historyf of Africans who, at several periods of time, visited Ireland, and gave accounts of cer- tain stars worshipped by the mariners as their good or evil guides over the deep and distant seas.
Euaebius and otiier historians speak of the Grecian fleet before Troy, and of much shipping and long voyages, 1249 years before the birth of Christ, when the use of diart or compass was unknown. Why then should the Gadelians be excluded, who were accounted an ingenious, adventurous, and warlike people, from seeking out an island for their babitatirait
We do not hear« of chart or compass to guide St. Paul over a dan- gerous and tempestuous sea. * The stars Castor and Pollux were their compass. And we hear of the storm which Jonah for his disobe- dience encountered at sea, 802 years before Christ. David, in speak- ing of the great and wide sea, says, *' There go the ships." Psalm civ. 25. And again, " They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters ; these see the works ct the Lord, and his wonders in the deep." Psalm cvii. 23— -30.
The awakened sinner sees that throughout the extent of the universe he hath not a single friend-— even an angel cannot befriend him, though he may look down with all the anxieties of pity and sympathy. Nature cannot befriend him ; and even God himself must be his enemy— then he feels that he is indeed poor, that he hath not a single friend to flee udto. — Rev. Dr. Cooke.
I^bftto of iSoolts;^
«THE FLOWER FADETH/' Menurir of Sarah Jane Isahella Wolffs eldest Daughter of the JRev^ M. S. Alexander f Professor of Hebrew and IMbi- nical Literature in King's College, London, and Mis- sionarg to the Jews. Written by her Father. Wer- theim; Uatchards.
Delightful as it always is to trace the unfolding of a blossom which the Lord has prepared, that he may gather it in its opening beauty for himself, there is a rich enhancement of the delight when, that blossom has sprung from a natural branch of the good olive tree, again grafted in, by the mercy of God, upon the true stock of faithful Abraham* The parents of the dear young girl, the subject of this brief memoir^ and of whose infant beauty and sweetness we have a very touching recdllection, are both wholly of the race of Israel, '' beloved for the fathers' sake,'* and *' accepted in the Beloved/' They are devoted servants of Christ,
POPISH FACTION IN IRELAND. 177
long and deservedly endeared to the church : and even in recording a few most interesting facts re- specting his yoang danghter, Mr. Alexander has kept in view that which is the prevailing desire of his heart, that his '* brethren after the flesh '' should be saved.
Sarah evidently was a child of God from the first : her short coarse was very bright : its close exceedingly beautiful: and she now rests before the throne of Him who was pleased to take on him the seed of Abraham, that he might become a light to lighten the Gentiles, and be the glory of his people Israel. The memoir is written with great simplicity, to make it more profitable to the young. It is a sweet little book ; and we trust that by its means the bereaved parents will see much good springing out of their heavy afSiction.
A DISCLOSURE of the Principles, Designs,, and Machinations of the Popish Revolutionary Faction in Ireland. By John Ryan, Esq. M.R.S,L,, Au^ thor of " The Life of King William III; " " The History and Antiquities of the County of Carlow.*' 9fe. Sfc. Edwards, London ; Bleakley, Dublin.
If Mr. Ryan were not himself a native Irishman, we would not notice his book. Not that he has failed in the promise held out in the title ; for, alas ! the picture is as just as it is appalling, and no one can deny the facts which, trumpet-tongued, speak for themselves. What we should demur at is the ex- tretiae severity of the author's remarks on the race from' which he springs, as a people. In an English-
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178 REVIEW OF books:
man or a Scotchman, even of a line long naturalized in Ireland, we should call it an anti-national preju- dice ; but as Mr. Ryan avows himself of the abori- ginal race, his name also importing it, we want to plead with him a little for his brethren after the flesh ; and in him with a very large class of valuable men.
As to the Popish priests and the demagogues of Ireland, if Mr. Ryan would enumerate all their dis- covered villainies, and multiply the sum total by the frauds of the priesthood and the lies of O'Connell, we would certify that the final product fell short of the reality. No language is too strong, no censure too sweeping, for the denunciation of those selfish deceivers who do Satan's work, and almost overdo it, for the sake of his present wages in filthy lucre and personal aggrandizement. We plead not for them : but the victims of their cupidity, the tools of their murderous plots, form a very difl'erent and truly pitiable class. Mr. Ryan has powerfully shewn the absolute control exercised by the crafty priesthood over their ignorant dupes — more ignorant he makes them out to be than we have reason to suppose them : he also gives lengthened specimens of the irritating, inflammatory productions by which their passions are kept in a state of perpetual excitement, prepared for any work of violence against their Protestant neighbours. Admit the facts of their ignorance, their susceptibility, and their natural proneness to superstition, and behold them as being carefully, from the cradle, fostered in these things, and kept from whatever could tend to enlighten their eyes, to inform their minds, or to soften their asperities — we ask what other result can possibly follow than what
COTTAGE DIALOGUES. 179
we see and deplore? Mr. Ryan is every whit as hot in a good cause as his poor perverted coantry- men are in a bad one: he is all earnestness, zeal, devotion to the laws and government. In his natural state he woald have made a formidable Ribbonman ; and the happiness that he cannot but feel in pro- moting the right cause, so heartily as he does, by means of that truly Irish temperament to which lakewarmness is abhorrent, should render him a powerful pleader for his misled people ; anxious to bring into the ranks of good order those whom we assert to be, if rightly directed, one of the most generous, kind-hearted, and intelligent races on the fsLce of the earth.
We appeal to Mr. Ryan's book for awful proof of what misgovernment is doing in Ireland by its wicked connivance at Popery ; and we appeal to the author for his aid in bringing to bear against the confederated enemies of his country that which alone they dread — a scrlpturar education for their sons.
COTTAGE DIALOGUES. On the Gospel of St, Matthew. By D. H. W. Baisler.
We perfectly agree with the author as to the diffi- culty of finding books suited to the circumstances of children and the poor, the language of which is not aboye their comprehension. We have frequently made the experiment, by questioning such indivi- duals as to the meaning of words iu common use, but to which, as we anticipated, they could attach no meaning. In the volume now under review we
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180 REVIEW OF books:
meet with nothing of the sort : the langaage is simple enoagh to be intelligible to any little child in a charity-school, and at the same time sufficiently pleasing to attract readers of all ages.
Sound doctrine is, as it ever ought to be, the foundation : practical obedience ja shewn to be the superstructure for which that foundation is given to us. Being particularly pleased with the book, we tested it farther by placing some copies in the hands of the classes whom it is intended to benefit : and we found these most despised, though often best qualified of critics, unanimous in awarding to.it the pre-eminence to which we thought it entitled. If this volume meets the acceptance that is justly its due, we are promised a continuation on the three other gospels. The dialogues are quite in the narra- tive style, interesting and entertaining.
THE POETICAL WORKS OF THE REV. R. MONTGOMERY, A.M. Oxon, A new edition, revised by the Author, VoL VI. Symington and Co., Glasgow.
This is the sixth volume of the elegant edition which we have before had the pleasure of noticing. It con- sists of one poem, '* The Messiah.*' Among the nu- merous striking beauties of Mr. Montgomery's poems, we consider some descriptive passages in this of sur- passing brilliancy ; for instance, that which pourtrays the closing night after the finishing work of our re- demption on Mount Calvary. Often reprinted, we cannot introduce these pieces as new to our readers: but we hope thci author will ere long enable us to
PHOTBSTAKT EXILES OF ZILLERTHAL. 181
point to some effort or his still more matured judg- ment, and more enlightened piety ; for the servant of God is ever progressing.
THOUGHTS OP PEAOE FOR THE CHRIS- TIAN SUFFERER. A Selection of Short Pas- sages from Scripture and Sacred Poetry, Hamilton and Co.
The solace of a Christian sufferer's painful hours, and very well adapted to soothe those of many others among God's chastened children. It is a very pleas- ing little selection, and appropriate throughout to the purpose for which it is designed.
THE PROTESTANT EXILES OF ZILLER- THAL ; their Persecutions and expatriation from the Tyrol, on separating from- the Romish Church, and embracing the Reformed Faith, Translated from the German of Dr. Rheinwald, of Berlin* By John B. Saunders. Hatchards ; Nisbet and Co.
Our readers are already acquainted with the outline of this story. It is here given in full, with a very pretty engraving for a frontispiece. We have only one objection to make : the translator says in a note, quite at the commencement, that '* throughout this narrative the word Catholic must be taken as synony- mous with Roman Catholic, or anti-Protestant;" and 80 having been induced to call evil good, and to put sweet for bitter, he continues to compliment his Pro- testant readers by informing them in every page that
182 REVIEW OF BOOKS.
they are heretics, by conceding to Popery the term Catholic. We are resolved never to let this danger- ous inconsistency pass unnoticed; and having ex- pressed our regret that the word Romanist was not employed where Romanist is to be understood, we acknowledge it to be the only drawback on mnch gratification experienced in reading the little history. It is, very properly, dedicated to Queen Adelaide; and the fact is with equal propriety brought forward of our own King, William lY. having been the first to move in the cause of these affiicted Protestant con- fessors. The mischief perpetrated by the useful- knowledge-mongers of England is clearly shewn; and a good lesson may be gathered by some who call themselves staunch Protestants, from the contents of the narrative.
We have seen the Protestant Magazine for 1839, in a neat volume ; and a 'broad sheet containing the thirty-nine Articles of our church, in most conspicu- ous type, published by Mr. Baisler: also several numbers of the new Protestant French journal, '' L'Esperance," which fully deserves the encourage- ment of English Christians ; and the new series of that valuable periodical, ** The Dublin Examiner ; or Church of Ireland Magazine,'' which is now stamped, and so rendered transmissible by post.
183
THE PROTESTANT.
* You cannot feel tbis as I do/ remarked my ancle, as I completed tbe fixing of a band of crape round bis hat ; ' it IS true you retain a yivid recollection of the royal lady for wbose decease we are now called on to display tbe symbols of mourning ; but you are not, like me, carried back to the period of that lady's youth, when, with all tbe ardour of a young sailor, I looked upon tbe blooming family of my king, and gloried in tbe privilege of being commissioned to de- fend them from tbe approach, yea, from tbe appre- hension of danger. My old heart feels the severing of every link in that chain of by-gone days, when England stood a queen among the nations, and her sceptre indisputably ruled tbe waves.'
' And will she not, in that sense, rule them still, uncle?'
* It is to be hoped she may ; but her flag has been repeatedly insulted, and her once-dreaded thunders set at nought. I do not wish to dwell upon that theme now, niece ; if God be still for us, we may yet, as of old, defy the world in arms, and that He has not forsaken us I desire to believe.'
* Look at the recent interpositions in our favour. Have we not just seen a populous town saved from fire and the sword by one unarmed watchman putting thirty armed rebels to flight?'
* Ay ; and where, I pray you, did that occur?' said
184 THE PROTESTANT.
my uncle, with the utmost animation ; ' at Sheffield, than which no town has more manfully stood forward on Protestant principles ; at Sheffield, where the gos- pel, the pure gospel of Jesus Christ is preached from every pulpit of our church ; in Sheffield, where those responsive cheers so lately recorded in your pages, rang to the reiterated no popery watchword of M'Ghee, and to the masterly exposure of that ac- cursed system by our eloquent M*Neile. ** Them that honour me, I will honour,*' saith the Lord. I do conscientiously helieve that a Protestant Asso- ciation is, in these days, the best safeguard of any neighbourhood.'
' I believe so, too ; and you well know that if that shield be withdrawn from the neighbourhood where I dwell, I was not consenting to the purpose or deed of those who flung it a\9^ay. Never was anything of the kind more firmly established. God so blessed the efforts of a few individuals whom it was my privilege to bring together for the purpose, that not only was the Association formed, with one of the county mem- bers at its head, but the most numerous, most ani- mated meeting ever seen there took place in the very large public room usually devoted to such purposes. We were enrolled as one of the earliest branch asso- ciations of the Society ; and we sent up two petitions to the legislature, one of which roused O'Connell himself to oppose, though unsuccessfully, its recep- tion. To this day I know not when, how, or why our branch association disappeared ; it was burked, uncle — put to death secretly and unfairly, and in the absence of its parents and first friends. I call God to witness that I am guiltless of what I consider to have been a most unprotestant act ; and of the whole
THE PROTESTANT. 185
party who first joined me in setting it on foot, I am certain there is not one who would have aoquiesced in its destruction, could he have averted it.'
* Wait a while, my dear: wait till all our pulpits become Protestant, like those of Liverpool and Sheffield, and you will see the like results. Mean- while rememher it is accepted according to that which a man hath, not what he hath not : and if in this matter it can be said of you, " She hath done what she could," be thankful.'
' I am so : the consciousness of that serves instead of bolts and bars to my humble cottage, and weapons of defence against those deluded men who are now terrifjring the land, even if they be not commissioned to pass a sword through it.'
* In truth, the '* pestilence'* of Popery, the ** noi- some beasts " of Socialism, and the '* sword " of Chartism seem only waiting the divine permission to ravage these islands. The seasons menace us with ' famine ' too in the literal sense, and spiritually there is nothing wanting to famish us, if while the dissent- ing bodies become political zealots the blight of Pu- seyism rests on the church. That the land has sinned against the Lord by trespassing grievously, no one but an infidel can dare to deny : and if he sends his '* four sore plagues," we need no addition to what even now exists : merely that power Should be given to the present evil to spread and enlarge itself. So it was in impious France: so, if we repent not, will it be in faithless England.!
' Indeed, I know nothing to which Puseyism may so aptly be compared as to a famine. God appoints his ministers to feed us with the finest of the wheat flour, and with honey out of the stony Rock. That
186 THB PROTESTANT.
bread is Christ, the bread of heaven : wheat, sown in the soil of oar earth, and ripened, and bruised, and shattered, till no form or comeliness remained, that by it our son Is might be fed, and nourished up into life eternal. The stone, the sure foundation-stone, chosen of God, elect, precious, whereon alone we may safely build ; the Rock of which all his Israel drink, smitten and wounded, that refreshment sweeter than honey might flow forth to as. This is what the stewards of God's mysteries are commanded to divide among His people — the portion that their heavenly Father sends them. But the Paseyite teachers have another gospel : they first adulterate onr bread, then gradually withdraw it, substituting the wretched messes whereon Popery starves her victims. Their rock is not as our Rock : it yields not the honey of sweet assurance, pardon, and peace, and joy in the smitten Saviour, but the bitter apple of man's miser- able doings, his penances, his will-worship, and vo- luntary humility. It, most aptly, turns away from the people the priest's lips that should keep know- ledge for them, and bids him mutter and gesticulate to an imaginary something hung up at the east end of the building, and that something we are left to conjecture must be the Popish pix, containing the rubbish of the mass-wafer, which no doubt will be restored when they have famished us a little lower, and taught our empty stomachs to crave whatever may present itself.'
* They certainly have taken one step towards the restoration of the pix,' said my uncle : * for in the new pattern church at Skipton, we are told that a piece of furniture called the credence is placed within what they are pleased to term the ahar rails,
THK PROTESTANT. 187
whereon to set the * sacred vessels and sacramental elements^ previous to oblation.' In scriptural charches it has been deemed saffieient to have a table always standing there, ready for the celebration of the Lord's sapper : bat this contrivance of a separate place for the elements before consecration, is Sjrmptomatic of a design to provide as with another to bold the bread after it is consecrated, a perpetual object of idola- trous veneration to the famished souls who must be content to look on such an empty shadow instead of receiving Christ into their hearts by faith through the hearing of the word duly preached.'
* What is meant by the expression, ' previous to oblation,' as applied to the sacramental elements ? '
* To a Protestant, it means nothing : there are in the communion service of our church several obla- tions mentioned. In the first instance it is connected with the word alms, in the prayer for Christ's mili- tant church : and that it is meant to express the same sort of offering is apparent from this, that in the rubrick it is directed the deacons, churchwardens, or persons appointed for the purpose, shall receive the alms and oiher devotions of the people in a decent bason : it is likewise ordered that when there are no alms and oblations the words shall be left out : yet, that such omission does not imply an absence of the act of communion is evident from this, that the min- ister is directed to lead in this prayer, after he shall have placed the bread and wine on the table. Again, the Lord is intreated, after communion, to accept our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving; which may l>e called an oblation; and shortly after to accept us, oor soul and bodies, which we offer and present unto Him as a reasonable, holy, and lively sacrifice.*
188 THE PROTESTANT.
^ It seems then, that the oblation, preyions to the offering of which the elements are to be kept on the credence, is the putting our alms into the bnson or plate/
' Yes : but these gentlemen will tell you, one and all, that the bread and wine, being consecrated, are offered ap to God, as symbolical of the body and blood of Christ : if they can venture to use the term symbolical, seeing they have asserted, as you noticed in your last number, that an episcopally-ordained minister has power to perform the miracle of trans- forming the sacramental bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ/
< Nay, if they first transform, or transubstantiate the elements, and then make an oblation to God of what is so transformed, we have the Popish mass complete ! '
' All but the recognition on the part of the people, by an act of prostrate worship, and this we cannot withhold, if they succeed in persuading us that Christ is bodily present/
' It is an awful spectacle to behold the deadliest errors of Popery thus creeping back : but the rubrick of our prayer-books is, I should think, a sufficient safeguard against these abuses. The cautionary re- marks, appended to the communion service set that matter at rest/
* True : and as they cannot shake off the anti- popish testimony so wisely and skilfully interwoven by our martyred reformers with every part of the service-book which they left us, these gentlemen now openly impugn the reformers themselves, appealing from them to the mystic dreamers of an age when divine truth was becoming clouded with man's super-
THE PROTESTANT. 189
stitioas fancies, and that glorious beam was already in part obscared which never burst forth again in its pristine splendour till, at the blessed reformation, it prevailed, and chased the shadows of darkness far away.'
' '' God is the Lord, which hath shewed us light ; " and if we suffer men to place an extinguisher on the flame that he has graciously kindled to illumine our paths, we must expect to grope at noon-day as in the dark, and to abide all the consequences.'
' Man cannot extinguish the sun, my dear: he will shine forth, and all who love the light will rejoice in it. The worst that can as yet be done is to shut us up with our own consent in a building the darkness of which is made visible by the wretched glimmering of human inventions. If we consent now to the pro- cess, we place within the grasp of our fellow-men a power by which, as in the days of Mary, they may force us into dungeons, and leave us no alternative but popery or death.'
' How strikingly illustrative are some of the present doings, uncle, of what we are warned to take heed of! You know, the churches, in their original state, as planted by the Lord, are called '* golden candle- sticks," and the angels, or chief pastors of those churches are likened to *' stars," — bodies of pure, brilliant, unextinguishable light, the immediate workmanship of God himself. As if to mark the striking contrast between such a church and one framed after the devices of our zealous friends who pant to restore what they absurdly call primitive order, we have two huge wooden candlesticks, gilded Xo resemblf go\6, but possessing not one property of that precious metal ; and crowned, not with stars,
190 THE PROTESTANT.
bat with cotton wicks, which any idiot's hand may li^ht, and any infant's breath extingaish ! Verily, they furnish ns with a poor type of the types that in the early Jewish charch foreshewed the glory that was afterwards revealed, and the revelation of which for ever did away with such shadows.'
* And to render it more striking, these same can- dles are lit np in the blaze of the mid-day sun. The more I ponder on the subject the less excuse can I find for such as are led away to follow a palpable absurdity, in the face alike of revelation and of natu- ral reason.'
' We must pray that God will recall from these paths of error as many of his ministering servants as have strayed into them, and withhold the rest from entering. We shall best insure our own safety by interceding for theirs.'
*■ And now, niece, what have you to say on a sub- ject whereon ladies, loyal, English Christian ladies, cannot well be silent — the approaching marriage of our young Queen?'
' I say, as a lady, that I fervently wish her all hap* piness : as a loyal English lady, that I desire to see her majesty, with the partner of her choice, sur- rounded by a host of devoted subjects, and placing the court of England where our queens have been wont to keep it, in the zenith of purity and honour : as a Christian, I pray from my inmost heart that the Lord our God may purge that court of all unholy leaven — banishing far from the smiles, from the presence of my Queen, the enemies of that country which God has deputed her to govern for Him, the assailants of that church over which He has ap- pointed her the nursing-mother.'
THE PROTESTANT. 191
' Ay, I trost the yoang prince will not disgrace his noble lineage, nor act in any Instance a part unwor- thy the descendant of Martin Lather's illustrious, in- trepid protector ! '
^ Uncle, you said when J[ wound this crape around your hat, I could not enter into all your feelings. Perhaps you failed to sympathize in all mine — per- haps you thought not of another house of mourning, nearer in its locality, and scarcely farther removed from the tender concern of English hearts, than that of Hesse Homberg. Perhaps you did not remember one who shone in beauty as in rank, gracing the court of our beloved old king when the princess Elizabeth adorned it too.'
^ No, no : if I could forget the family of Hastings at this especial juncture, I should lack a principal clue to some of God's recent dispensations in this land. The fact is, I fear the entanglement insepar- able from that subject: wait until the Lord in his merciful providence has removed from about the person of our sovereign the actors in that doable tragedy, and then we may venture to give utterance to our feelings without incurring the stigma of dis- loyalty, of which we are wholly guililess. Within twenty-four hours of each other, those souls winged their flight ; and while in dutiful, unfeigned attach- ment to the daughter of my good old king I wear these symbols of mourning, there's not a pulse in the heart which throbs beneath that does not sympathize in the anguish so patiently sustained by the noble, the loyal, the oppressed and bereaved house of Hast- ings.'
*She forgave all: led by "the path of sorrovv" to '* a land where sorrow is unknown," she has fol-
192 THE PROTESTANT.
lowed her child. Like you, uncle, I curb my ex« pressions : but I wait in trembling dread the issue of this unparalleled crisis in our national history : for the Lord has more to require at our hand than many of us may choose to remember. In the midst of these judgments, may He cause his mercy to shine forth.'
This passed some days ago, and my uncle has since been in a fever of excitement concerning the recent extraordinary proceedings of the House of Commons. He says there never was such a crisis in the whole history of English liberty; he keeps a record of every name that appears on the list of the minorities, calling them Runnymede men, and mak- ing remarks that I dare not publish, until it be de- cided how far the privileges of the Hon. House extend, where the boundary of their power — ^if a boundary it have — is situate, and whether the supre- macy of the law, and liberty of the subject, in which we and our forefathers have been wont to boast our- selves, be a reality or a dream.
THE
CHRISTIAN LADrS MAGAZINE.
MARCH, 1840.
HELEN FLEETWOOD.
VIIL
' First, then, graDdmother/ said Charles, ' mother is sorry she hadn't time to pay yoa a visit yet.'
' I did DOt expect it, my dear : I knew it was a busy week with her as well as with me.'
' All right ; * responded the lad, whose affectation of the man was rendered more nncoath by his ap- pearance, and the strange contrast it formed to the real manliness of Richard, who never aspired to be more than a boy ; * All right ; bat ma'am, every body is not so reasonable, and there's poor Sarah fretting like a fool about it. Nothing will serve her bat the fancy that we've all quarrelled, though we told her you were ill, and all sorts of lies, to pacify her.'
The Greens were horrified, and shrank back as
March, 1840. O
194 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
this anprincipled declaration was made, eyidently oq purpose to shock them ; bat the widow's steady gaze seemed to abash the yoang profligate, who hastily added, ' We wanted to keep her from making her- self ill ; bat she set her heart apon sending a mes- sage to yoa, aod getting an answer ; and so to save the ninny any farther moaning I came about it myself.'
All the party now looked complacently at their gaest ; James sidled up to him, and said, ' I do like yoa for being so kind to poor Sarah.'
* All irery fine, my little gentleman-at-large,' re- plied the other, with a patronizing stroke of the boy's head.
* But what is the message you have been so kind as to bring us? ' asked the widow.
"Pon honour, I believe I've forgot it! Oh — ay — let's see ; 'tis precious nonsense I know. Ah, I re- member now : why it seems you'd a kick-up last Sunday with old South concerning some word that you couldn't agree about'—
' It was gospel,' interrupted Willy : * Mr. South said it meant truth, and we told him it meant good news.'
^ ' And granny proved that it was both,' added James.
' Bravo, bright memories ! ' exclaimed Mr. Charles, theatrically, ' there's nothing like rustic genius. Well, grandmother, the poor girl's fancy was tickled by this learned debate, and she wants you to send her word by me why this same gospel, whatever it may be, is good news.'
Painfully disgusting as was the studied, sneering levity of the boy, his message rejoiced them all. The
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 195
widow began, in her most striking and affectionate manner to gi?e sach a reply as she deemed suitable no less to his case than to Sarah's ; bat after a minate he stopped her.
' Oh, mercy, ma'am! sorely you don't expect my poor knowledge-box to hold all this, and to carry it safe through the streets all the way home without spilling I Make the answer as short as you can : any thing will do for that simpleton.'
' Charles,' said the old lady, kindly but solemnly, * I cannot allow you thus to jest and trifle with a sub- ject so awful — a subject no less important to you than it is to Sarah and to us. You have done a most brotherly thing in coming here on such an errand: do not spoil all by your unsuitable be- hayiour/
The boy coloured with anger, and seemed about to rise; but did not. Suddenly recollecting himself, he said, * Come do it your own way, and I'll take down the heads:' then producing a bit of pencil, he opened the cover of a dirty song-book, so as to display the many offensive things that were already scrawled on it The widow calmly closed the disgraceful volume, and laying upon it a piece of clean paper said, ' Now, proceed to make your notes.'
Affecting to suppress a laugh, and putting on a &ee of mock gravity, he looked up for his instruc- tions.
' We are all sinners,' commenced the widow, re- pressing, by a look that she had seldom worn, the jeer that seemed about to pass his lips : * we have the eye of an all-seeing, all-holy God continually upon us ; and every thought of our heart is known to him. Pride, falsehood, uncleanness, intemper^
o 2
196 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
ance, wrath, envy, all these are terribly sinfal : and so IS every act, every word, every feeling, that is not according to the holy will of this just God/
It was evident that Charles, though he scribbled away, was not taking it down faithfully : but he could not help hearing it, and with this she resolved to be content.
* The wages of sin is death : God has declared it ; and that death is not the end of an existence, but an eternity of torment hereafter.
' Every one of us has sinned : every one lies under this condemnation.
' When we were thus helpless, thus condemned, God accepted a ransom for our guilty souls, even the precious blood of His only Son, who became man that he might suffer and die on the cross for oar iniquities.
' This sacrifice is sufficient before God, to atone for all the sins of all the sinners upon earth, from the creation to the judgment-day : but it is only made effectual to them that believe, and come repentingly to ask it.
* We are so blinded and hardened by sin that we can neither believe nor understand, nor serve God, without the aid of the Holy Spirit : and this aid is given to all who for Christ's sake implore it.
* Christ having suffered for our sins, and risen from the dead, now lives, at the right hand of God, to in- tercede for us : and all manner of sin and blas- phemy shall be forgiven to them who come to God by Him.'
The energy, the vivacity with which the old woman detailed these important heads of doctrine, speaking deliberately, and pausing after each, while her hand
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 137
placed on his arm seemed anxioas both to arrest his attention, and to decide his movements, quite over- awed for a moment even the dissolute young scoffer whom she addressed. At length he looked up, and with somewhat of his usual pertness remarked, ' So then, this is all the good news we have bad such a fuss about ? '
' Not all,' replied Mrs. Green : < but this is enough of it to make you happy now and for ever, if you re- ceive it into your heart by faith.'
' Oh, many thanks to you, it is no affair of mine : the silly girl yonder sent me upon a fool's errand, that's all. However, I am much obliged to you, ma'am,' he added more respectfully, * for the trouble you've taken. 'Tis one thing to answer a question when a body asks you, and another to come preach- ing into people's houses vt^hether they will or no.' Then crumpling the paper, and thrusting it into his pocket, he shook hands with the old lady, nodded to the rest, and placing his hat on one side of his head, walked out, whistling a jig.
' I'm glad .he came,' remarked James ; ' and to tell the truth I'm glad he is gone.'
' I wished him a hundred miles off,' said Mary,
* till I found he brought a message from poor dear Sarah. He interrupted us talking about Richard ; and indeed if I wasn't thinking of Richard, Charles would always put me in mind of him.^
* How can you say so, Mary,' exclaimed Helen ;
* how can Charles Wright possibly remind you of our own dear Richard ? '
< Just the same, Helen, as a dark, dull winter's day in this foggy town makes me think the more of the warm bright sunshine of our morning walks by
198 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
the seaside, with the little waves dancing to the tanes the birds sang.'
' But remember, my love/ said the widow, ' that what yoa complain of, both in the place and in your cousin, is owing to the absence of light The bright sun in the firmament cannot dart his rays through the thick mists that hang over this town, or it would be very different ; neither does the brighter Sun of Righteousness shine upon poor Charles to drive away the unlovely darkness from his cha- racter.'
'Charles is ugly enough,' observed Mary; 'but Sarah is much worse crippled than he ; yet I think her quite a beauty when she looks so fond at us, and thanks us for shewing her any little kindness, and asks questions about the Lord Jesus. Well, I hope now we shall have the rest of 'the Sunday to our- selves.*
But this wish was scarcely uttered when another tap at the door ushered in Mr. South.
< Glad to find you so comfortable at last, neigh- bours: I thought rd come in for a bit of chat; but 'twas hard to make out your lodging. I met Charles Wright in the next street; he told me he had no idea where you lived.'
' Oh, what a wicked story-teller he is !' cried Mary, ' why he has just left us.'
' Ay,' muttered the visitor, with a shrug, ' that's factory morals ; he didn't like me to suppose he had been in such good company.'
* It was owing to you that he came here, Mr. South,' said Helen, ' and I dare say granny will tell you all about it.'
Thankful for such an opening, the widow took the
BBLBN FLEETWOOD. 199^
hint, and succeeded in making her new friend listen to a pretty full statement of truths that he would as willingly have been excused from hearing ; but she was not one of the inconsistent Christians who put their candle under a bushel when those who most need to have the light placed before them enter into the house. As a guest in other places she was neces- sarily sometimes under comparative restraint, and tiierefore she preferred her own home, where full liberty of speech prevailed on the subject most im- portant ; contenting herself with the conviction that those who loved the theme would enjoy it; while those who loved it not, were in the way of profit if they staid, and free to depart when they chose.
South, however, came to talk about the mills, and resolved to let the old lady have her say first, in the hope that she would then listen to him. He was dis- appointed ; for wheb, on her coming to the end of her lecture, he began his discourse, she mildly but decisively interrupted him. ' Excuse me, neighbour, but this being the day of rest from worldly labour, we must hallow it by shuttiog out all worldly thoughts and subjects too. If you will join us in reading and conversing over the bible, in our hymns and prayer, we shall be most happy to have you make one of our party : if not, don't be offended, neighbour, that we most go on, even if it be the means of our losing your company.'
* Oh, ma'am, I'm sure it would be a great pleasure to me to join you in all those good things, if you think a little rational talk so wicked on Sunday; but I have outstaid my time already, and must bid you good bye.' ' Dear granny,' said Helen, ' how glad I am you
200 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
got him to listen so long. Poor man ! I fear he has a very uncomfortable home, and that was why I was so bold as to speak about Charles' message/
' If he tells it again/ remarked Mary, ' Charles will get finely laughed at, and that will make him more spiteful than ever.'
* Then perhaps I did wrong,' said Helen, looking distressed.
' No, my dear child, you did perfectly right. It is our duty to use whatever opportunities God gives us of being faithful to others, for their good: conse- quences belong to God.'
* You know, granny, the apostle warns us against doing evil that good may ensue ; but I am afraid I often hold back from doing good for fear evil may ensue — that is, something unpleasant to myself or to those I love.'
^ We are all tempted to do that, Helen ; but we must pray to be made valiant for the truth, and never to shrink from declaring it. The fear of man often bringeth a snare.'
Helen deeply felt that it did ; and she laid up in her heart the counsel now given by the friend who little knew what was passing in her thoughts. She had, at the moment of speaking to South, been almost withheld, from the apprehension of a fresh burst of malignity on the part of Phoebe, if he should repeat it at Wright's; but she overcame the suggestion, and boldly called forth what she hoped would profit the poor man. He was not an ill-natured person ; and though on the same afternoon he saw some of the family, nothing passed his lips on the subject. Oar poor cottagers, meanwhile, enjoyed their Sabbath exercises in peace ; attended an evening service, and
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 201
closed the most oomfortable day they bad yet passed ID M. with the united voice of taneful praise.
Next day, the landlord brought tidings of what he called fine lack: there was an excellent opening for Willy in a silk-mill not very far off, and the per- son under whose charge he would be was a friend of his own. ' Just the sort of man for you, Mrs. Green ; for when I went to his house last night, they were singing psalms as load as they could bawl, and I had to come away without seeing him : however, I met him this morning, and he's ready for the boy.'
This was an inducement not to be slighted, and when, on a short interview, the widow found Mr. Parkins a serious man, with every appearance of being what the landlord represented him, she com- mitted Willy to his charge ; while James was half reconciled to remain at home by the old geqtleman's assurance that he was to have some very nice em- ployment, which was realized the next day by his bringing in a few tools, with sandry bits of wood, and instructing the boy how to set about making small articles for sale.
The widow visited her daughter ; but Sarah, after mach suffering, had been ordered an opiate, and was in a soand sleep. She therefore got no information as to the result of Charles' mission, of which his mo- ther evidently knew nothing, by her apologizing for not one of the family ever going to see them yet. Mrs. Wright seemed salky and downcast, and the manner in which she received a present that her mo- ther insisted on making, in return for the trouble and expence incurred by entertaining so large a party, proved that money was jast then highly acceptable. She brightened up as soon as the gift, after many
202 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
pretended objections, was safely deposited in ber tea-caddy, and became so sociable that the widow hoped to lead her to listen to spiritaal counsel ; bat here, as osnal, she was disappointed.
We mast now leave them to take a peep into the mill of the Messrs. Z.
Mary had described the .spinner to whose wheel her frame was attached, as looking equally cross with old Buckle, but being, like him, better than his looks. This was true ; the poor man was soured by a life of extreme labour, and his health so materially affected as to increase the gloom of his countenance ; but he was not habitually ill-tempered. With the rest, he could enjoy any variety in his monotonous path ; and Mary was so unlike all her companions, that she afforded him frequent amusement.
The little scavenger whose feelings the thoughtless girl had hurt on the first day was now become her special proteg6 ; and woe to the person who should inflict any needless annoyance on Katy Malony, such woe at least as Mary Green's most eloquent and energetic rebukes could inflict. She had, for a won- der, met with a heart quite as warm as her own, a poor, persecuted, solitary child, simple as a babe in the cradle, but sensitive to an extraordinary degree, and gifted with that power of attachment which, like the ivy to its supporting oak, clings round the object of its grateful veneration, and would rather perish than be torn from it. Besides, poor little Katy had been struck by the respectable dress and deportment of the new pieceuer, and readily yielded her a degree of deference quite delightful to Mary Green who, although she would have been really distressed at the idea of being thought proud, had more than the
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 203
average share of that corrupt principle withiD, and dearly loved to be regarded as a saperior. The ex« pression of Katy's oplifted eyes, as she peered through the whirling threads at her companion above, and the pretty soft brogue, an accent quite new to her protector, in which she uttered ' Miss Mary, ma'am,' were more gratifying to her than she was aware- of, from the deep respect that they implied : while the zealous devotion of the scavenger in pick- ing frona Mary's can the woolly particles that often covered its contents, to the total neglect of her own poor portion, and the eagerness with which she vo- lunteered every possible good office, shewed that love was the root from whence all sprang.
Katy's extreme simplicity, together with some oc- casional mistakes which they were pleased to call Irish balls, rendered her quite a butt to those around her. She happened to be the only one of her race in that part of the room ; and having but lately come over, that is, about a year before, she was considered fair game for the very poor witticisms of her neigh- bours, whose attempts at correcting the Irish girl's phraseology sometimes diverted Mary beyond bounds ; for she was too well instructed not to discern that the teachers were frequently further astray from ac- curacy than their pupil. This she failed not to point out, often with so much humour as quite to overset the spinner's gravity, and to provoke unmeasured resentment on the part of the mortified persons, which they usually contrived to wreak upon poor Katy, as the most effectual way of making Mary excessively angry. Her occasional reports of these matters, cau- tiously as they were given, convinced her grand- mother that she was in a very unsafe position be-
204 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
tween the two parties, as regarded her own humility and forbearance ; but Katy became, from her reci- tals, an object of such interest to the household, that no one could wish to check Mary in her generous line of conduct towards the poor desolate little crea- ture.
There was a press of work ; nobody could afford to go home to breakfast, even of those who lived, like the Green's, within five minutes run of the mill; and all took their cans, Mary's always replenished with bread and milk, Katy's with sometimes a spoonful of stirabout, sometimes a broken crust, and not unfre- quently empty.
* What are you doing there at my can, you little meddling fool? ' said a big girl to Katy one morning.
^Sure, then, ^tisn't your can I'm touching, at all ; 'tis Miss Mary's own.'
* Miss Mary forsooth ! Why don't you say Lady Mary ? '
' Lady Mary's can,' repeated Katy, with great sim- plicity.
An immoderate roar of laughter followed, in which the spinner joined ; Katy blushed, and looked indig* nant, for she was sure the laugh was at her expence. Just then Mary returned to her frame from the far- ther end of the apartment, and a general shout was raised of, ' Room for Lady Mary.'
' What's all this riot about,' said the overlooker, approaching with no gentle aspect, ' take care yoa don't get some sauce to your breakfasts,' and he drew a strap that he was preparing to fix to some part of the machinery through his fingers.
'What does he mean?' asked Mary, in a loader tone than was prudent.
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 205
'Hush!' whispered Katy, 'it's a bobbyiog we'll get, ma'am, if we ben't quiet/ ^ A bobbjing ! '
* Yes; that's a strapping ; a very sore thing it is.* And the little girl writhed as if under the recollection of such discipline.
' Nobody shall bobby me, Katy ; and nobody shall bobby you ', so make yourself easy. How nicely yon have picked my mess ! it was all over flue, for I saw it : come, let's see, what have you got fo;* yourself?'
* Mine's all done. Miss,' and she shewed her empty tin ; it had evidently contained nothing bat water, a few drops of which had trickled down the sides.
' Here now, hold it quick^ Katy, I have plenty to spare.'
* Oh no, Miss, avourneen, I've had all I want, and wby should I be after robbing you ? '
' Do as I bid you : there, sup it up : I wonder,' sbe added, looking round, ' which of all you would have refused it.'
To this challenge no reply was given, but it excited much anger, and before the day was past Mary was made to feel it through her poor little friend.
Many of our greatest blessings, the deprivation of which would rob life of its best earthly comforts, are enjoyed from day to day without a thought on the peculiar mercy that makes them ours ; or an attempt at computing the amount of painful loss that their withdrawal would entail upon us. Among these every-day advantages is the protection afforded by those equal laws that recognize the right of English- men of every class, every age, to the fullest protection both of person and property. Those enactments which make the rich man's house his castle embrace
206 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
with equal eflSciency the poor man's hovel. The former is guarded from depredations which the latter mighty by dint of physical force, commit ; and he in his tarn is alike shielded from any despotic use that his more lordly neighboar might be disposed to make of superior wealth and influence. Even the domestic sanctuary is overshadowed by this all pervading genius of our beautiful constitution ; and if the prescribed prerogative of parent or husband overpass its legitimate hounds, and offer violence to that im- maculate principle, the liberty of the subject, magis- terial authority steps in to arrest the uplifted hand by the certainty of retributive infliction should the blow fall ; or with that infliction if it has actually fallen.
Is there any exemption from this privilege of pro- tection among our country people in the bosom of their own free England ? Does slavery, such as our law repudiates, and to which the very act of inhaling^ British air is supposed to be fatal, dwell and reign over thousands in our most public, most populous cities ? This question must be answered by an ap- peal to facts : and should the charge that so it is be substantiated by the evidence adduced, the next in- quiry is, Shall this state of things be allowed to continue?
207
ESSAY ON THE TRANSFIGURATION.
BY THE REV. DANIEL BAGOT, B.D., OF EDINBURGH.
No. I. — THE TIME.
** And after six days, Jesus taketh Peter, James and John his brother, and bringeth them up into a high mountain apart."
The transactioDs of our blessed Saviour's life can never lose their interest. The believer will always love to meditate upon them, with feelings of ardent and adoring gratitude ; and assuredly more sublime subjects of contemplation, or in which he is more deeply concerned, cannot possibly be discovered. His birth, baptism, and temptation, his agony and bloody sweat, his cross and passion, his glorious re- surrection and ascension into heaven, will continue to afford, even throughout eternity, inexhaustible materials of reflection to bis ransomed people. These were the prominent and critical events in his earthly history, by which the attention of angels was more peculiarly attracted, and in which there seemed to have been a more than ordinary expenditure of the power and love of our divine Redeemer. These were the several arches of that bridge of life across which the humanity of Jesus travelled from the manger to the cross, and the deity of Jesus, shrouded by his humanity, from his pre-existent glory with the Father
208 THE TRANSFIGURATrOK.
to his sabsequent exaltation at the right hand of the Majesty above. And these have been especially re- corded for oar instraction, that we through patience and comfort of the scriptures might haye hope.
Nor is the splendid scene of the transfiguration less important or attractive than other events in the life of Christ. It is too frequently referred to in the New Testament, to allow us to think lightly of its yalue. It is related by three evangelists — Matthew, Mark, and Luke ; it is referred to as a well authenti- cated fact by John, in the first chapter of his gospel, where he says, ^* We beheld his glory, the glory as of the only-begotten of the Father/' And the apostle Peter alludes to it in terms which cannot possibly be mistaken, where he says — " We have not followed cunningly-devised fables when we made known unto yon the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but were eye-witnesses of his majesty. For he re- ceived from God the Father honour and glory, when there came such a voice to him from the excellent glory, This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased, and this voice, which came from heaven, we heard, when we were with him in the holy mount." Here the apostle contrasts the reality of the Saviour's transfiguration with the cunningly-devised fables of metamorphoses of heathen gods, related by profane authors ; and bears his testimony to that glorious event as a real transaction to which he was an eye- witness, and not as a visionary scene. The apostle James was so soon martyred by Herod that he left no written testimony. We have here, then, five wit- nesses to this event, clearly proving its great import- ance, as it stands connected with the Saviour's work. Let us then, in a spirit of devout and bumble adora-
THB TKAKSFIGUBATIQir. 209
tkni, mutate on this divine tranaactioo; and do tboQ, O Eternal SpiriiC! ander whose •operinten- denoe the If an of Sorrows travelled throagh the dark- ness and desolation of his saSertngs in the flesh, enable ns to approach this mfolime and mysterioas subject with feelings of depend a nee on thy goid- ance; impart to as the spirit of the Patriarch , when he said ** Sorely the Lord is in this place ; this is none other than the honse of God, this is the gate of heaven."
la reading the inspired history of the Savionr's transfiguration, the first oireomstance which natorally arrests oar attention is the specific mention which is fliade of the time when it occorred. ** After six days Jesus taketh Peter, and James, and John his brother, and bringelh them up into a high mountain apart ; and was transfigured before them/' Not one of the events of the Saviour's history was out of place. The time when each occurred was selected and ar- ranged long before, by the infinite wisdom of Jeho- vah. As there vras a special season, called the *' fulness of time;" determined for the great mystery of the manifestation of the Godhead in human flesh, so every incident that occurred during the life-time of the Man oC Sorrows took place in its own proper and appointed season. There are some remarks con- nected with this part of the subject from which we may derive some profitable instruction.
It was very soon after the apostle Peter had given expression to his remarkable conviction of the divi- nity of his Saviour. The words which contain his confession of faith are written in the preceding chap- ter, in the 16th and 17th verses-^'^ And Simon Peter answered and said, thou art the Christ the Son of the
IIabch, 1840. P
210 THE TRANSFIGURATION.
living God.'' No man ever yet acknowledged the glory of the Saviour, and recognized him as the Son of God, who was not richly rewarded by divine grace. Our confession of faith in the divinity and saving power of Jesus now, shall be recompensed by our being privileged to see the personal glory of the Redeemer hereafter.
It was, also, very soon after Jesus bad told his dis- ciples of his approaching sufferings. It is written in the 21st verse of the preceding chapter that *' Jesus began to shew unto his disciples, how that he mast go onto Jerusalem and suffer many things of the elders and chief priests >and scribes, and be killed, and be raised again the third day/' The apostles were, no doubt, dismayed by this announcement, whieh came into collision with their fondest hopes and expectations at the time, but Jesus was so touched with a feeling of their infirmities, that he supplied an antidote to their sorrow, by giving a distinct representation and prophetic type of the glory into which his sufferings were to conduct him.
Jesus was transfigured very soon after he uttered the memorable declaration which occurs at the end of the previous chapter : '' Verily I say unto yoa, there be some standing here which shall not taste of death till they see the Son of man coming in his kingdom." This declaration is connected with the account of the transfiguration by. all the Evangelists who related that event, by Matthew, Mark and Luke. And it is evidently prefixed as an introductory pre* face to that account, as is manifest from the narrative being immediately introduced by all the three by the word ^* and.'' This declaration should, therefore, be looked upon as a solemn and prophetic announce-
THE TRANSFIGURATION. 211
ment of this event, and the transfiguratii^n was a liiring and substantial commentary upon this an- nouncement, analogous to that which he will give to his people hereafter of all that the scriptures say of bis majesty and glory, when he shall make them eye- witnesses of that glory which they now appre- hend only by faith. The transfiguration is a fore- taste and exhibition of Jesus coming in his kingdom, when he shall appear in the glory of his Father, and of his holy angels, and in his own glory. So that Christ not only spake of glory, but he gave a repre- sentation of it. Neither had the apostles, on this occasion, nor shall any of his believing people ever have reason to say of the promises of Christ, that they seemed onto them as idle tales. The promises of the Saviour are written in his own blood, and can never be effaced until they are fully and completely accomplished.
The transfiguration took place after an interval which elapsed between this announcement and its fulfilment, about which nothing has been said. This is noticed by the three evangelists, but by Luke in different words from those employed by Matthew and Mark. Matthew and Mark say *' After six days ; ** Luke says *' About an eight days after those sayings he took Peter, and Jolm, and James, and went up into a mountain to pray.'' These apparent discre- pancies are proofs of genuineness. They shew that there could have been no collusion, or previous ar- rangement between the different historians of the Saviour's life. And they are easily shewn to be only apparent, and not real. In this case Matthew and Mark speaks of the six entire days which intervened between the day on which the promise was given
P 2
212 THB TRANSFI6UBATION.
and the ^ajr of its accomplisbment, whereas Lake includes the two latter with the six days mentioned by Matthew and Mark. This is evident from the language adopted by each. Matthew says, in dis- tinct and unqualified words, '* after six days;'' b«t Luke qualifies his statement of the time, by the word '* about," as he included portions of two days in bis calculation.
But how was this interval occupied I On this it is unnecessary and useless to indulge in any specula- tion. Its events are passed over in silence: they were known only to the disciples, to the Saviour, to the angels, to God ; but it has not seemed good to the Holy Ghost to reveal them to the church. Probably these days were days of sufiering, anxiety, and sor- row. If so, they were typical of the interval whicli elapses between the believer's apprehension of the Saviour's promises of glory, and the time when they shall be realized, which qiay well be disregarded as comparatively a period of no importance ; '' For I reckon/' says the apostle, '' that the sufi'erings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us«" Or, probably, they were days of enjoyment, daring which the dis- ciples felt much of that peace which passeth all un- derstanding, and in which God smiled upon them with a countenance full of love, and which seemed to be the first emanations of that glory which they shall hereafter enjoy in the light of his presence. Still any such enjoyments are passed over unnoticed and unrecorded, for even '* that which was made glo- rious'' in the experience of the apostles during this interval, *' had no glory by reason of the gloiy that excelleth."
THE TRANSFIGURATION. 213
Or probably the days which elapsed between the SaTiour's memorable declaration and its accomplish- ment, were employed in preparation for that great eyent, daring which even the angels were anxioasly and earnestly occnpied in making every thing ready for the splendid exhibition of the Savionr's majesty which took place when he was transfigared* Sach is the exceeding greatness of every department of the Redeemer's work, that even he himself requires time to prepare for its manifestation. It required time to prepare the world for his first adrent in the flesh. It requires time to prepare the church for his second coming in glory. It requires time for Christ to pre- pare a place for his people. It requires time for the Holy Spirit to prepare his people for that place. It requires time for God himself to bring every thing in this world into that state of complete subjection, when they shall be made the Saviour's footstool. And so likewise, this interval was necessary, in order to pre- pare that scenery of light which was displayed on the mount of transfiguration, and to prepare the disciples and the Saviour himself, by seclusion, meditation, and prayer, for the important honour which was soon to be conferred on them.
It is thoug^ht that this great transaction occurred on the Sabbath day. If so, we* learn from this, as well as from several other circumstances referred to in different portions of scripture, that God puts honour Qpon what he himself appoints, in order that his peo- ple may learn to do the same. And what day could have been more suitable for such an event ? It was a day of rest and joy and refreshment to the Saviour; on which be experienced a brief respite from the miseries of his humiliation, in order that bis manhood,
214 THE TRANSFIGURATIpN.
being strengthened on the mountain by a foretaste of his future glory, might descend with renovated and devoted ardour into the valet)f suffering through which he was passing for the benefit of fallen man., And it was a day sanctified by a sublime and peculiar cere- mony, to be a standing type to the church, of that eternal sabbath that remaineth for the people of God. We should learn from the Saviour's fulfilment of his promise to his disciples on this occasion to trost implicitly in his faithfulness. *' Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words," said Christ, '' shall never pass away." Oh ! how many pledges did he give on earth of his faithfulness, as well as of his love. But we need not go beyond the case before as for a proof of this. ''There be some standing here which shall not taste of death till they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom. '^ Was not this promise fulfilled ? and not only for the benefit of the disciples themselves, but likewise for ours ? For, although we were not present at its accomplishment, yet the cer- tainty with which it was accomplished, was intended to impart confidence to his whole church, that all the exceeding great and precious promises which extend to it shall as surely receive their fulfilment. There are promises of glory, more lasting than that which was seen on Tabor, vouchsafed to all the people of God. Let these be our staff and consolation during the short interval of waiting ; and let us *' be patient and hope to the end, for the glory which shall be brought unto us at the revelation of Jesus Christ."
215
II. — The Place.
There is a powerful instinct in the mind of man, which leads him to feel peculiar interest in places which have been described, either in sacred or pro- fane history, as the scenes of great and important events, or in which persons of distinguished charac- ter have lived and acted. With what ardent and ab- sorbing emotions have the classic grounds of Italy and Greece been trodden by the literary traveller! What hallowed sensations of gratitude and devo- tional love has the Christian traveller experienced in sunreying those places which have been associated by an imperishable consecration with the important transactions of our Saviour's life ! Who could stand unmoved upon the hill of Calvary, or walk the streets of the city of God, or cross the sea of Galilee, or visit the Saviour's birth-place, or ascend the mountain on which his transfiguration took place, without having his heart overwhelmed with feelings of intense and grateful love ! We may well suppose that the Sa- viour himself looks down with triumphant satisfac- tion and joy upon the land in which he once taberna- nacled in the flesh for man, and if Jesus thus regards the localities and events of his earthly humiliation, with what solemn and thankful reflections should we think upon them, for whose benefit every place was visited, every sigh was heaved, every tear was shed, and every agony sustained by the son of God in mor- tal flesh.
216 THE TRANSFIGURATION.
The place which was chosen for this great transac- tion is here said to have been a " high moontain*^' How frequently do we find it mentioned in scriptare that moantains were selected as the scenes of solemn or important events. Isaae was offered upon Moriah* The law was given amidst thunders and lightnings from Sinai. The temple and the palace were built upon Zion. On a mountain the Saviour delivered those lessons of pure and sublime morality which excited the admiration of the multitude that sur- rounded him. On a mountain he suffered the pains of crucifixion, and ^hed his precious blood to pro^ cure the redemption of the lost. And on a mountain his transGguration took place. There is little, if any, ground to doubt the correctness of the tradition which represents this to have been Tabor in Galilee. Some reasons may be stated for our Lord having se- lected this place to be the scene of so bright and grand an exhibition. It was a place that required labour and fatigue to reach. Hence we are taught this important lesson, that labour must precede our enjoyment of the presence and glory of Grod. True it is that the ways of piety are ways of pleasantness and peace, yet in our present state they require to be. reached by much previous weariness and toil. There is much self-denial necessary to be cultivated by every Christian ; much resistance of carnal inclina- tions; much opposition to natural predilections; much crucifixion of the flesh with its affections and lusts; much seeking, and wrestling, and striving, and warring ; much up-hill work in Christian expe- rience. Hence our Saviour says to his people, " La- bour not for the meat that per^sbeth, but for that which endnretb to everlasting life ; '' '* strive to enter
THE TRANSFIGURATIOK. 217
io at the strait gate ; " **• if any man will be my dis- ciple, let him take up bis cross and follow me." And hence the apostle speaks of our striving for the mas- tery, and labouring to enter into rest ; for, verily, the life of a faithfal follower of Jesns is not one of carnal ease or worldly pleasure, nor of indolence and inao- tiTity, bat one of active laboar and persevering toil, yet still of laboor and toil which is succeeded by everlasting enjoyment and repose. There is enough of bliss and joy awaiting us on the summit of the oMHintain to compensate for the trouble and fatigue required in the ascent.
A mountain was calculated, from its elevated situ- ation, to have an effect upon the disciples suitable to the splendid nature of the transaction they were aboot to witness. There are always feelings of gran- deur and sublimity associated with high and lofty positions. When We ascend them, we feel as if we had entered into another clime ; we breathe a clearer and a purer atmosphere, and feel ourselves invigor- ated by the freshness and the greatness of the pros- pect that surrounds us. And so it is with the Chris- tian, when he ascends into the loftier regions of more intimate communion with God. He is strengthened in his soul by the high and holy privilege in which he is permitted to engage, he feels himself to be raised above this world, and to breathe, as it were, the very atmosphere of heaven ; and the very labour that preceded his enjoyment of fellowship with his he&venly Father imparts such an energy to his spi- ritual desires, that he can say with David, " As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul, after thee, O God.''
The place selected for the transfiguration was re-
218 THE TRANSFIGURATION.
tired and secluded from common observation. This great event was far too glorioas for unbelieving Scribes and Pharisees to witness. It has been aptly called the '^ holy of holies," in the Saviour's earthly history, into which none but selected spectators were permitted to enter. Thus the believer has meat to eat which the unbeliever knows not of; he has pri- vileges to enjoy which no unregenerate or carnal taste can appreciate* We should exclude the world from our more special seasons of communion with God. We should take advantage of every thing calculated to nourish and increase devotion. All situations are not suited for the devotional engage- ments of the humble and earnest Christian* As the prophet Daniel retired to his chamber to pray, as Isaac went out to meditate in the field, and as a greater than Daniel or Isaac frequently retired into gardens to hold communion with his heavenly Fa- ther, and to send up fervent supplications to his throne of grace, — so the follower of Jesus will seek for places of privacy and solitude for meditation and prayer, as being more conducive to the promotion of spirituality. The Saviour did not consider it beneath him to give directions about " entering into oar closet," and ** shutting the door," as a preliminary to prayer. Such instructions as these, instead of being mean or trivial, are founded upon an intimate ac- quaintance with the weakness of human nature. We continually stand in need of these circumstantial helps to devotion. We require to have recourse to every little expedient to keep out the bustle and turmoil of the world. We should endeavour to leave all temporal care and distraction below, when we ascend the sacred mount of supplication. And if the
THE TRAKSFIGUBATION. 219
sweetest moments the believer enjoys on earth are not those which are spent in pablic worship, though these are sweet, — or those which are spent in Chris- tian intercoarse, though these are sweet,— but those which are occupied in private meditations on the grace and love of his exalted Saviour, let us not de- spise or neglect any contrivance which may serve to shut out every care, and cause the spiritual to pre- dominate over the carnal, and leave the soul free and unshackled, to soar with unimpeded wings into the third heavens, and gaze with intense and absorbing feeling upon the amazing mercy of our Redeemer and our God !
But another reason may be given for the selection of Mount Tabor as the scene of the Saviour's trans- figuration. It was a place which commanded the most extensive and lovely prospect in the land of Israel. In whatever direction the eye of the admir- ing spectator might turn itself, it gazed upon a noble and attractive specimen of the beauty and grandeur of creation. The scenery by which it is surrounded is described by modern travellers as unequalled in magnificence, but beautiful as it was, what was it in comparison with the surpassing glory of Jesus, on this occasion? And for this very reason it might have been selected to shew how insignificant is na- ture in her finest garb, in comparison with even a scantling of that magnificence which belongs to brighter worlds, and which is associated with him who is the chief among ten thousand, and the alto- gether lovely ! For what is the majesty of nature in comparison with the majesty of nature's God ! What is the sun in all his splendour, in comparison with Him who is the Sun of righteousness, of whose glory
220 THE TRANSFIGURATION.
the natural san is bat the shadow, and who is the iiDfailiDg source of life, and light, and joy to every region of his wide creation I
We may imagine another cause for the selection of a mountain, as the place where this great event was to occur, connected with the typical nature of the transaction itself. The church and the throne of the Saviour are both spoken of in scripture under the symbolic designation of a mountain. The pro- phet Isaiah speaks of the church, in the second verse of his second chapter, in the following words, '* And it shall come to pass in the last days, that the moun- tain of the Lord's house shall be established in the top of the mountains, and shall foe exalted above the hills, and all nations shall flow unto it.*' And David, likewise, in the second PsaFm, speaks of the Saviour's throne as erected on the '' holy hill of Zion.'' So that the Saviour's object in being transfigured on Mount Tabor might have been, to shew that it is in his church, and as he is connected with his church, that he manifests his glory ; and also to add further con- firmation to this principle, which is the key to the interpretation of tliis event, — that it was intended to be a view of Christ coming in his kingdom* Let the church, then, rejoice in the greatness of her ex- alted Saviour and King, for his exaltation upon his eternal throne, as well as his sorrows and sufferings in the flesh, is for the benefit of his believing people. '< Cry and shout, tfaoii inhabitant of Zion, for great is the holy one of Israel in the midst of thee."
(To be continued in our next.)
221
WE WON'T GIVE UP THE BIBLE,
OR, THE LITTLE PROTBSTANT's 1»S0LVB.
We won't gi?e up the Bible,
God's holy Book of Truth ; The blessed staff of hoary age,
The guide of early youth ; The lamp which sheds a glorious light
0*cr every dreary road ; The Yoice which speaks a Sa^ioui^s love,
And leads us home to God.
We won't give up the Bible,
For it alone can tell The way to save our ruined souls
From being sent to hell. And it alone can tell us how
We can have hopes of heaven. That, throQgh the Saviour's precious blood,
Our sins can be forgiven.
We won't give up the Bible,
Nor beed the crafty tongue, That would this treasure take away,—
Ye wicked ones, begone ! For ye would fain condemn our minds
To glooms of moral night. Bat we defy your hateful power,
And God defend the right !
224 THINGS OF OLD.
it' ^ The six days begin to be connted from tbe first emergenee of light from tbe chaos ; ' for the rotation of the earth on its axis, ' while all- lay in darkness, as all must have done till light was, produced no sensible change, and afforded no measure of dara- tion/ (Bishop Hmrtiey's Bibiieal Critiewn, y. i. p. 2.)
We begin then to coont time from that eventfol moment when God said '' Let there be light, and there was light." All oar ideas of duration are de- rived from motion. Our days are only rotations of the earth, oar years are but revolotions roand the sun; and what are our centuries, oar ages, nay, even our nullenniums, but hundreds or thousands of such revodtttions, succeeding each other ? We have no notion, no computation of time, save from the movements of our earth ; and how, 'ere those moFve- ments commenced, could duration be m«asured, or its lapse be recorded? Some among tbe more de- vout of our geologists, who try to keep peace between the aeriptures of truth and those ' oppositions of science, £dsely so called,' which abound in tbe pre- sent day, have striven diligently to profve that this chasm includes their favourite '* periods of ages/' << age of reptiles," " age of birds," and other qpoofas, which forcibly remind an impartial reader of tbe "long-tailed ehronology of tbe Hindoos," as sooie one facetiously termed those fabulous narratives so well-known in the Indies.
Bat perhaps tbese writers will take the trouble to inform us how their gigantic vegetables grew without light, and what use their saurians, birds, opossums, &o., made of their eyes, as tbey ecu Id not employ them £6r seeing ; unless, indeed, tbese organs resem- bled those most useful of eyes wbicb belong to
THINGS OF OLD. 225
modern cats, bats and ow]s, and conld assist their owners to see in the dark. For I do not recolleet that any of these writers have placed these epochs of their fossil history after the production of light ! eooseqnently their vegetable and' animal life most have been carried on in the primeval darkness.
Another important dispute has arisen as to how light con id be made on the first day of creation, when the sources whence we derive it, the sun and moon, came not into being until the fourth day.
Dr. Croly endeavours to settle this difficulty, by supposing all the celestial bodies to have been created with *^ the heaven," in the first verse: filled with light, IB the third verse, and simply appointed to their offices, in measuring time, on the fourth day, by the eommencement of the planetary revolutions. The orbs had previously had their diurnal motion ; they now received their annual one.
Horsley (BihlieaL CrittcUm^ vol. i. p. 4.) explains the point in another manner. ^ Neither the sun nor any of the celestial luminaries were in being when light was produced. For light was a work of the first day : the luminaries of the fourth. The lumin- aries therefore are not the cause, nor the makers of light, as the principles of materialism require ; but merely the receptacles, or magazines of light pre- viously made/' This is implied by their original name, which though translated '^ lights," is literally ** causers to shinsy* or light-bearers, not essentially light in themselves.
I will leave it to the consideration of my readers whether these conflicting opinions may not be recon- ciled, by supposing that the creation of ** the hea- Ten" included the fixed stars and planets. 'The
March, 1840. Q
226 TBIKOS OP ozn.
heavens,' says Croly (p. 82.) is * an expression desti- tute of all meaning, if it does not mean the beayealy bodies/ These stars might receive light as soon as it was formed ; while the sun and moon were made on the fourth day, and not merely then appointed to their offices* The mention of '' the stars," after the sun and moon, in ver. 16, does not positively imply that they were created with them ; for *' he madet" in the end of the verse, is an interpolation, and not found in the original. It may possibly be only im- plied that the stars have a share with the moon in " the rule of the night."
The six days' work has been by several writers, some of them most estimahle Christians, extended over a period of time varying from six thousand years to thirty-six thousand ; a scheme wherein by attempting a compromise with infidel geologists, they have lost themselves in the mazes of » truly ' endless genealogy/ It ought to be enough, for us that God has called .the period *' six days," using the term always employed in scripture for a period of twenty- four hours, and never htttoi^ally used in any other sense whatever.
But, as Croly well observos (2>tV. Prov. p. 96.) * We have the limit also fixed by a document with which the pen of Moses could have had no interfer- ence. The Ten Commandments are the direct lan- guage, not of Moses, but of God. Yet they declare thaf in six days the Lord made heaven and the earth, the sea, and all that in them is ; " thus with plain precision eiroumscribing the whole time of ere? ation. In every view of the case compromise is at an end.'
And why, we may well ask, was it ever attempted ?
THINGS OF OLD. 227
Are the systems of French, German, or English un- scriptnral philosophers so perfect, so wise, or so an- changeable, that oor bibles mast be misinterpreted, if not contradicted, to favonr them ? Are they not often crade and foolish, and perpetaally andergoing alterations? Did not Leibnitz teach that the world is * an extingaished son, a Titrified globe'? Baffon, that it is ' a fragihent of the sun, struck off red-hot— and mast be finally a globe of ice'?— -Lamark, that 'microscopic insects' were the first inhabitants of the world, which ' in the coarse of ages, magnified themselves into the larger animals,' and so on pro- gressively ? Did not Monboddo maintain that man was originally an ape ? and Demaillet, that he was a fish? And have not all these theories been succes- siTcly entertained and discarded, believed and aban- doned? What woald have become of Christianity, if the scriptares of troth had been twisted, trans- posed and metamorposed to suit them all in their torn ? Why then should we attempt to compromise with theories, newer indeed, and less absurd, but quite as contrary to the inspired record? At any rate, let as wait until some system of geology has as many years upon its head as the Bible has centuries, before we mutilate the word of God, in order to ac- commodate it to the wild vagaries of men.
The chief argument that has been put forth to pal- liate this immense folly, is, that it mast have taken a period of time far exceeding six thousand years to reduce the universal kingdom to its present state: and indeed, before Crosse's invaluable discoveries, almost a million of years were pronounced necessary for the formation of a crystal. Admitting the fullest force of this argument in itself, we dispute the pre-
QS
228 THINGS OF OLD.
mises on which it rests. It takes for granted that the minerals, earths, &c., were created in certain simple states, whence they have been changed to their pre- sent conditions ; hot who can prove this ? We may well address the asserters of soch a proposition in the sablime langnage of the most ani»ent author now ex- tant,— *' Where wast thou when God laid the foan- dations of the earth? declare, if thou hast nnder- standing. Hast thon entered into the springs of the sea? or hast thou walked in search of the depths? Hast thou perceived the breadth of the earth ? de* clare, if thou knowest it ail. Knowest thon it, be- cause thou wast then born ? or becaase the number of thy days is great?" (Job xxxviii. 4, 16, 18, 21.)
No ; we can only know what God has been pleased to tell us of those primacTal days : and He has not informed us whether He created metals in the mas- sive or the crystallized, the native or the acidulated state ; nor whether the simple minerals were at first nnmixed or compounded. We only know that there reigns throughout the works of Omnipotence a vast and harmonious analogy, and we may thence infer that the universal kingdom was produced at first in as great beauty and perfection as we know (upon ex- press Divine authority,) that the vegetable and ani- mal kingdoms were? Were the " green herbs,'' the grass, and the trees created as puny seedlings? No ; they sprang up at once, *' bearing seed," and *' yield- ing fruit, each after his kind,'' in their full maturity. Were the animals produced in the infant state ? No; the original Hebrew gives the creative command thus — ^* Let the waters be alive with creeping things that have life, and let fowl fly in the open firmament of the heavens ;** they started into life at oncOi swim-
THINGS OF OLD. 229
miDg, creepiD{|^, fljring, io their fall strength. Was man created '' an infant of days?" No ; it has been nniversally admitted by all rational disputants, that the first man was created in the prime of life ; if he bad not been so, how could he have tilled, dressc^d, and kept the garden of Eden ? an office to which he was immediately appointed. If, then, all other things were formed in a state at which they now arri? e only after various periods of growth, why might not metals be at first created in their crystals, and minerals in their compound structure, as we now find them ?
Before 1 quit the subject of creation, I must invite the attention of my readers to a curious passage from Eusebius (book 3, c. 11). He says, ' The Egyptians eali the Creator by the name of Kneph, and relate that lie sent forth an egg from his mouth ; which in their symbolic language denotes that He produced the uni- verse.' Now, among ancient nations, the egg was the emblem of the universe ; which is supposed to have arisen from a corrupted tradition of the Creative Spirit moving (Heb.^tt^/erin^) over the deep, whence they imagined Him to have been in the form of a bird, and the production to have been an egg. Thus the Chippeway Indians say that originally the world was * one vast and entire ocean^ inhabited by no crea- ture, except a mighty hird^ whose eyes were fire, and whose glances were lightnings, and the clapping of whose wings was thunder. This bird flew down to the sea, when the earth rose out of the water, and remained stationary. (See Mackenzie's Travels.) But the Egyptian idea that this egg proceeded from the month of Kneph appears to me very striking, when we recollect the declaration of the Psalmist : — '* By the word of the Lord were the heavens made,
230 THINGS OF OLD.
and all the host of them bj the hreaik of his mouth.*'
Thus even the idolatrous figmehts of ancient Egypt, and the romances of the wild Indian, approach more nearly to the truth than the theories of some who call themselves Christians, and who have the word of God lying open within their reach.
Alas for modern wisdom and philosophy !
X, Q.
If you be one who passes current with the world for a good Christian of the average stamp, but no enthu- siastf — one who has just religion enough to make a decent show, just as much as gives a zest to carnal enjoyments, but never disturbs the conscience, — one who is only a Sunday-worshipper and a festival com- municant,— one who takes a glance at the cross of Christ on the Sabbath, and enjoys a surfeit of mam- mon during the rest of the week,— one whose religion is all of times and places, just such a religion as the devil most delights in, — ^if you be such an one, ''suffer, I pray you, the word of exhortation/' You are trying to make an union between Christ and Belial, but it will not do ; you are endeayonring to effect that which is impouihle ; you cannot join the two— a// hell can't do it \^Rev. T. Dale.
281
PETRARCH--A PROTESTANT.
Dear Madam, As every testimony against the mystery of iniquity is valuable, I think it may prove beneficial to the good canse, to give insertion in yoor valuable Maga- zine to the following most apocalyptic sonnet, written in the fourteenth century, by the illustrious Floren- tine, Francesco Petrarca*
I remain, dear Madam,
Your faithful servant,
L. H. J. T.
SONETTO CVI.
{Edizione di Firenze, 1815.)
FoNTANA di dolore, albeigo d'ira,
Seola d'errori e tempio d^eresla,
6i^ Roma, or Babilania falsa e ria,
Per cui tanto si piagne e si sospira ; O fncina d'inganni, o prigion d'ira
Ove'l ben more, e '1 mal si nutre e cria ;
Di vivi inferno ; un gran miracol fia,
Se Christo teeo al fine non s'adira. Fondata in casta ed umil povertate,
Contra i tnoi fondatori alzi le coma,
Putta sfacciata ; e dov^ hai posto spene ? Negli adulteri tuoi, nelle mal nate
Ricchezze tante ? or Constantin non torna.
Ma tolga il monda tristo che'l sostiene.
332
CHARITABLE SOCIETIES.
No. II.
When the more eliari table portion of a parisli pro* pose to found a benevolent society, tbey think and speak much of the wants of the poor, the necessity for assisting them, the pressure of the coming winter, or the dreadfal sufferings to which they have been exposed during the last severe frost. The society is formed, and henceforth all will be well with the poor. None can be sick, without being relieved ; none unemployed, without being idle ; and if any beg from house to house it is a sure sign that they are not * deserving persons/ Accordingly, a report is issued, containing the balance of accounts, a few interesting cases of distress, some just observations on the duty of Christian benevolence, and, in con- clusion, probably an earnest exhortation to the friends of the society, not to encourage the system of begging, as prejudicial to the poor, and so incon- venient to themselves — an exhortation generally ef- fectual.
Now it is manifest that a society, which thus puts itself between the poor man and the brotherly kind- ness of his wealthy neighbour, which claims to be the only channel of communication between the pros- perous and the afflicted — which dries up every other stream or turns it into its own, is bound upon every
CHARITABLE SOCIETIES. 233
principle, not only of Christian duty but of common bonesty, to convey to the hearth of the needy every comfort which he oaght to receive from the benevo- lence of others. If unable to effect this the society has no right to stop up other fountains, even thongh the waters which flow from them be less clear and healing than its own.
Let ns leave the published report, and tarn to some cottage within the sphere of the society's labours. Tlie hatband is oat of work, the wife ill, the chil- dren, ^ve or six of them perhaps, all too young to earn any thing beyond a few pence. The district- visitor comes to the hoase, hears the sad story, and, in conformity with the society's rales, either refuses 'apoa prin<»ple' to afford any relief, because the hasband is out of work, which ought never to be the case ; or gives, for a fortnight or three weeks, one shilling, or perhaps two, as the treasurer's coffers are empty or full ; or carries back the matter to the committee-room, where a quarter of an hour is spent in debating whether the starving family shall receive eighteen- pence or half<-a-crown. In the meanwhile, tfaroagb want of sufficient noarishment, the wife be- comes incarably sickly, the hasband loses his strength, so as to be anable to take work when it is offered, and the cHabby- faced children grow pale and un- healthy. And why ? Because God has sent sorrow, and his people, whom he has prepared to relieve it, neglect to do so*
It must not be supposed that all this proceeds from any want of compassionate feeling. Far otherwise. The individual managers and agents of the society may possess the most painful sympathy with the dis- tresses of the poor — the most earnest desire to do
284 CHARITABLE SOCIETIES.
rig^ht— the most Christian tenderness of spirit. The scanty measure in which they dole oat relief may be to them as great a trial as to the poor man himself. But they act * upon principle.' And this forms the worst feature of the case. If the yisitors were hard- hearted, if the committee were cruel, other commit- tees, other visitors might be found endowed with a more Christian spirit. But this parsimony of charity is to be attributed not to the character of those who bestow it, but to the baneful influence of some wide- spread principles of error. To transplant individaals is far easier than to root out errors.
The bodily senses, in the opinion of some philoso- phers, do not confer upon the mind the Tarious sen- sations of which they are the media, but rather re- strain them within certain limits the best adapted for the purposes of our present existence. So that a dis- embodied spirit n^ay be conceived to see and hear, not, as at present, by means of separate material organs, but with its whole undivided being. Now, in some respects we may look upon charitable soci- eties as the organs or senses of the universal body of Christ's church. They are the eyes to see and the ears to hear the wants of the distressed, -and also the hands to supply them.
I have already complained of the hands as not suf- ficiently liberal in the discharge of their duty; I have now to find fault with the eyes as prejudiced and in- correct. And though it may be said. for the hands, that if left empty they cannot give, the same defence may not be urged with respect to the eyes, as their office is simply passive— they have but to transmit.
Charitable societies are in the strictest sense the eyes of the church. A large proportion of those who
CHARITABLE 80CIETIBS. 235
subscribe for the relief of the poor never come into personal acqoaiotance with them. They know their wants, their characters, their Tirtues, and their vices only from the reports of others. They form their judgment upon those topics principally on the aatho- rity of the pablieations of the different societies, or <H| that of the speeches and conversations of their sapporters. And this jodgment, modified in a mea- sare by their cast of mind, is the rule by which their benevolence is directed. In fact they have and can have no other.
What, then, is the image of the poor man conveyed by those eyes to the mind of the Christian world ? He is represented as in a state of great wretchedness; bnt altogether by his own fanlt He is out of work ; bnt it arises from a want of indostry. He has a larger family than he can support; bnt it is the na- tural consequence of marrying while in poverty. He is sick, and hunger presses upon him ; but he ought to have laid by for a time of need. And then to as- sist him is impossible ; for the poor man, seen through these eyes, is always or almost always wasteful, ex- travagant, thoughtless, untrue, deceitful, ungrateful, with nothing to inspire any confidence or hope of im- provement. To relieve bis wants, is to poor water into a leaking vessel, and more injurious to him, by encouraging his evil habits, than beneficial by saving him from starvation. These eyes are most quick- sighted in detecting, and most prompt in exposing, cases of imposture, and, as all love to consider men by classes, rather than by individuals, every cheat of every London swindler is attributed to the whole col- lective order of the poor. And thus the picture which these eyes convey to the mind of the Christian
2^ CHARITABLE SOCIETIES.
world, becomes gradaally darker and darker, antil pity itself is almost turned into dislike. The name of a poor man and of an ungrateful cheat become almost synonymous, and many would be more sar* prised at being treated honestly by a beggar than at being robbed by a gentleman.
Now it is my belief, that if any one, with a mind ttnwarped by this dark representation, will himself, and by himself, visit in the poor man's cottage, he will soon be persuaded that the notion of his charac- ter conveyed by those societies to the mind of the Christian public, is a mere phantom, a distorted dream, having no existence in reality.
He will find, indeed, that, alike on the throne and in the cottage, man is a corrupt and fallen being. He will often meet deception instead of truth, dis- honesty in the place of uprightness, and if he choose be may trace out almost every action to some evil motive, mingled with, and often overpowering, the good ; to learn which, he need not have crossed his own threshold. But this he will not find — that a be- liever in Christ is less consistent, or an unbeliever more depraved, when poor, than when rich. He may perhaps discover in the cottage a tenderness of spirit, a generosity of mind, a spirit of forbearance and for- giveness and brotherly kindness, a disinterestedness of conduct, a self-denying charity, which may make him ashamed of his own equals, and possibly of him*- self.
Wealth is not the source of refinement : it is rather its opponent. Wealth without education produces that state of mind the reverse of which we call re- finement. The man accustomed to educated society may. be refined, though wealthy; and the man who
CHARITABLE SOCIETIES. 237
is poor may be refined, tboagh unlettered : and per- haps the ever-floctaating state of hope and fear, of joy and sorrow, in which one, who is placed on the border-line between fire-side comfort and absolute want, continaally vibrates, has in some degree a tendency to draw out those more delicate traits of character, which may be easily effaced under the pressure of luxury.
At all events this is certain that, whatever be the natural sensibilities of the poor, the gospel is their heritage, and must be effective in enlightening and elevating their souls. Bat a poor Christian--'and by the word poor I mean to describe the lowest grade of social life — a poor Christian is in general a Christian of the most consistent character. He is commonly lienevolent to his neighbours, full of gratitude for the smallest kindness, and not barely honest, but even scrupulously exact in his dealings, for this very rea-> son that to be dishonest is the poor man's temptation. These are the outward fruits of that faith which he carries in his breast.
If all this be true, what shall be said of those eyes of the Christian world, which form so dark, so dis- torted an image of the poor man's character?
I will say but this — it was happy for Lazarus that he fell under the eyes of Christ, and not of the church, or it had never been recorded of him, *' The hegffOT died, and was carried by the angels into Abra- ham's bosom.''
• L.L;
238
DEITY OF CHRIST.
[The following beaatifal lines were addressed to a clergyman, after having preached a Sermon on the Deity of Christ.]
Dear faithful servant of the Lord,
Thoa hast most clearly proved " the Word "
To be Jehovah God ; The Father's co-eternal Son In essence, power and mercy One
Whose name must be adored.
But that He might for sin atone. He joined oar natare to his own.
And perfect man became. The God-man Jesus, matchless grace ! Died to redeem his chosen race
From everlasting shame.
The sacred, co-existent Dove, Revealed to thee that scheme of love
Planned in eternity ; He taught thee sweetly to proclaim The Lamb of God for sinners slain, ,
The Saviour's Deity :
DEITY OF €HRI8T. 239
What, tho' diacoaragements arise From those who Jesu's Ioto despise ;
He will thy labours own. The Holy Ghost will Satan foil. And fertilize with grace the soil
In which the seed is sown.
Defend thy dear Redeemer's caase, Regardless of the world's applause.
Soon thou wilt hear him say ; — Well done, thou good and faithful friend, Enter my joy, to heaven ascend ;
Here spend an endless day.
A crown of righteousness there is Laid up for thee in realms of bliss,
By God's Eternal Son ; H^t gone thy mansion to prepare, That where H^ is, thou mayst be there,
Soon as thy work is done.
240
ON THE PHRASEOLOGY OF THE NEW
TESTAMENT.
No. 11.
By L. H. J. t.
(4.) AMEN— pH— AMHN.
Verilify verily.
The word which I have selected for elacidation in the present paper, is one of greater importance than we are in the habit of attaching to it. It is traly a precioQS and a wonderful word.
Most of the readers of the Christian Lady's Maga- zine will know that the verily, verily, with which our Lord commences his discourses, is, in the origi- nal. Amen, amen, which form of asseveration is used by none but Him. The word verily does occur io the Acts and in the Epistles, but is there only the repre- sentative of some insignificant Greek particle, yap,^, &c., and not of the solemn and impressive Amen.
Every reader of the Apocalypse must have been struck with the remarkable assumption of this word by our Lord as an appellation. (Rev. iii. 14.) These things ^saith the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the beginning of the creation of God, Here we have the word Amen used as a proper name, and joined
PHRASEOLOGY OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 241
to a verb in the third person singalar, T^f xryti 6 'A/uof (^Tade Ugei ho Amen), The name Amen is left an- translated. Oar Lord speaking of himself, says, Tkese thingg saith the Amen, and 1 wish to show, th^t when he commences a discoarse with this name, coupled with a verb in the first person singular, it should like- wise be left untranslated.
We thus find it rendered in Theodore Beza*s Latin translation of the New Testament : —
John iii.3. Respondit Jems et dixit ei; Amen, Amen dieo tibi, nisi quis genittu sit iterium, fyc. Sfc,
And the same passage in Jerome's Latin Vulgate :
Amen, Amen dieo tibi, nisi quis renatiu fuerit, Sfc* Sfc,
And, although it may sound strange to our English ear, I am of opinion that it should be thus left as an indeclinable, nntranslateable name in our own ver- sions, or at least, that all Bible-readers should be fftily aware of the importance of this expression of oar Lord's, which in reality signifies
If the Amen, say unto you, Sfc,^
It becomes necessary now, however, to examine into the true meaning of the word Amen, premising that the inspired writers of the New Testament merely wrote down such Greek letters as would best eonvey the sound of the Hebrew ]10S.
I will now proceed to show that this nntranslate- able, immutable word^ in its various Hebrew in-
1 The Irish translation is as follows : — ' Go Deimhin, Deimhin, a deirim liot,' and the Gaelic, ' Gu DeimMnf Deimhin, a ta mi agr rkdh riutf* in both of which interesting: languages the word Deimhin is used, whtcli evidently contains the root of the Amen.
s An eminent and learned divine to whom these views were sab- MiCted, lias favomred the writer with the following remarks on this word:—
' It seems to me that originally the word is the mysterious name of Ood, and that its ase in the sacred language in compoonding terms of
March, 1840. R
242 PHRASEOLOGY OF THE NEW TESTAMENT.
flexions, conveys to us not only all the attributes of omnipotence of the living God — not only of his crea- tive power and sustaining providence, but also every endearing and tender relation in which He is pleased to represent himself as a covenant God, *' in whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning/'
Cant. vii. i. The work of the hands of a cunning fDorkman * (]DM am'n.)
1 Sam. ii. 35. And I will raise me up a faithful (])S2K3 uam'n) priest, and I will build him a sure (jttSa nAM^N) house.
2 Sam. vii. 16. And thy house and thy kingdom shall be established (])t3S3*) venAM'N) for ever before thee.
Psalm Ixxxix. 28. My mercy will I keep for him for evermore, and my covenant shall stand/a^/ (nO)^M3 nAM'N't) with him.
Isaiah xxxiii. 16. Bread shall be given him ; his waters shall be sure (C3**3)52SD nAM'Nim.)
Deut. vii. 9. Know therefore that the Lord thy God, he is God, the faithful God, which keepeth co- venant, &c. Literally know therefore that Jehovah, thy Gods, he is Gods, "the Amen God,'' or ** the God the Amen" (p«3n bWH h'AL h'nAM'N.)
Isaiah Ixvi. 16. He that blesseth himself on earth
power, authority, protection, and perpetuity, arises from the sacred yrriters throwing:, as it were, the Divine attributes of Jehovah into phrases or terms, the force of which is strengthened by intimatingr, by this accommodation, that similEur qualities (though created and limited) ought to be possessed by His people— tha^ that because He is faithful, true, kind, &c., they ought to be faithAd, true, kind, &c.
I In these quotations, the word in italics is the translation of the Hebrew word in the brackets. The Hebrew words are afterwards given in En^ish, the three radical letters M, t), |, (A, M, N,) being- printed in capital letters.
PHRASEOLOGY OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 243
shall bless himself in the God of Truth ; i. e. the God Amen (]]oN '^nbM elohi am'n.)
Psalm xxxi. 23. The Lord preservcth the faithful (C3>31):5M AMuNim.)
Numb. xi. 12. Have I conceived all this people ? Have I begotten them, that thou shouldest say unto me, Carry (]]aMn h'AM*N) them in thjr bosom.
Isaiah xlix. 23. Ring» shall be thy nursing (^"^^ISS AM'Nik) fathers.
Esther ii. 7. And he hnmght up (]]!3H am*n) Ha-* dassah.
Isaiah xl. 4. Thy daughters shall be nursed {T^^I^Wy tAM'N'h) at thy side.
2 Sam. iv. 4. His nurse (>n3DM AM*Nti) took him up and fled.
Passages of this nature might be multiplied ; but enough have been adduced to show the variety and the importance of the meanings of this remarkable word. One more quotation from the book of Reve- lations will suffice, — Rev. xxii. 20.
Nol ipxoftai rax^ 'Afiify.
Nal ^px^ K^pi€ *lrja'cv.
Here we have a beautiful strophe and antistrophe — promise and prayer. The Redeemer promises to come quickly, in his name Amen ; the church turns the promise into a prayer, and entreats him to come, by his name of salvation, Jehovah Jesus : —
Promise — Surely I come quickly — (I the) Amen.
Prayer — Even so, come Lord Jesus.
This last quotation will serve to throw light on the use of the word at the conclusion of prayers, by the Jews, by the Lord himself, and by the church in all ages, and sufficient has been said to show that it is a
R 3
244 PHRASEOLOGY OF THB NEW TESTAMENT.
word wbioh we should use cautioasly and reverently. Each time that we otter it, we are calling^ upon the Almighty by one of bis most solemn names. Let as take heed lest we take this name in yain, not knowing^ it to be the Lord's.
ERRATUM.
Page 158, lines 23 and 27, for home read house.
Christ's soldiers must obey him ; they mast look always to Him for directions ; they mnst not act for themselves. We most not think that we can be of His army, and yet refose to take the sentinel's post when He calls os to it. We most not throw away the sword (no, nor yet the scabbard,) withoot His commands. Whatever place He appoints os^ we most fill, be it the post of danger oi of observation. — Rev. Dr. H. Cooke.
245
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
SARAH.
No. III.
Not ioDg did the family of Abram coatinae to enjoy the repose and refreshment of Sichem. The first remove brought them to Bethel, and from thence a saccession of jonmeyings led them southward throughout the length of the promised land. The . sacred historian informs us that, at this period, the whole plain of the Jordan was ** well watered : *' and where now from the rocky heights of that sterile chain of mountains, which intersects '^ the hill conn- try of Judea,'' the eye looks down upon a desolated waste, *^ a salt land and not inhabited ; " that was then a beautiful and fertile district, luxuriant in its iocreaae as the gardeo of the Lord. But though as yet the towers of Sodom and Gomorrah stood, based upon tbeir proud foundations ; and though the traiis- Inoent Jordan still imaged on Its waters the stately strutftnres of four flourishing eities, all soon to be inYoWed in one common overthrow, — ^yet had the curse of God in part descended ; and famine stalked throughout the land in all the ghastliness Qf its death-bringing power. The parched earth thirsted for the fructifying rain-drops, and for the refreshing dew, but neither dew nor rain descended. The cry
246 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
of the blackened land went up to heaven, bat the heaven above was brass, and the earth iron.- Not man alone ; but all the creatures, had share in the suffering attendant on his sin. The wild asses of the wilderness, drawn from their deserts by the scent of water, snuffed up the torrid air through their dilated nostrils, and rolled their failing, fiery eyes by the fountains where hitherto the gushing waters bad never ceased to flow.
*' The famine was grievous in the land," and in this emergency the patriarch and his household, un- fettered by t^ tie of property in the soil, which might bind. the settled inhabitants to a permanent residence, . needed only to strike their tents and re- move further and further from this scene of desola- tion, until : they at length crossed th^ boundaries of Canaan, and entered upon that granary of the ancient world— the land of Egypt. In that proud region, the earth could yield her increase, independently of seasons or of skies. Drought might consume the neighbouring nations, bat to the inhabitants of the valley of the Nile the periodical swelling of their noble river. was a never-failing pledge of a super- abundant harvest. The patriarch could scarcely have become acquainted in any measure with the character and habits of the race then in possession of Canaan, when he was compelled by a stern neces- sity to remove yet farther from the land of his birth, in order to seek supply for the temporal necessities of his household. Had he indeed been ** mindful of the country from whence he came out," — had he sat down amid the withered wastes of the famine-stricken land of his future inheritance, and thought upon the flowing waters of Euphrates, till every image of his
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE. 247
forsaken home stirred within him the yearning de- sire to revisit those scenes; he *' might have had opportunity to have returned : '* hot here his faith failed not. He had counted the cost when he forsook all at Jehovah's bidding. He looked not back, but nerved his heart to go forward from one stage of his pilgrimage to another, at the command of his God. Previously, however, to his entrance into Egypt, he appears to have collected some information relative to the customs of the land, since we find him, when still on the borders of Canaan, exacting from Sarai the promise to conceal their mutual relationship while sojourning there. It was " when he was come near to enter into Egypt,'' that " he said unto Sarai his Wife, say, I pray thee, thou art my sister." The giant structures of this once renowned land, whose very fragments breathe a wondering awe into the mind of the traveller, as he ponders over the wrecks of their shattered greatness ; or thrill with fear the breast of the ^wandering Arab, as he passes in silence by : these all attest that even at this remote period Egypt bad attained to a high degree of civilization among the nations ; while their thickly inscribed surfaces, whose mystic characters are now made to speak in words of intelligible import, bear contemporary wit- ness with the records of holy writ, that the pomp of royalty was then within her palaces, and the glitter of a high-born aristocracy encircling her throne. But whatever might be the regulations of her policy for the welfare of her own people, the stranger and the sojourner, it seems, could not reckon upon secu- rity for either life or possessions. <' They will kill me, but they will save thee alive," was the foreboding of the harassed patriarch, when he looked upon the
248 FEMALB BIOGRAPHY OF SOBIPTUKE.
fair form of her who had left, for his sake, the tem- perate reffions where the day-beams dawn upon the snow-crowned Ararat, to domicile among the swarthy and violent sons of Ham.
Let not any suppose, when they have made sacrifice upon sacrifice in the cause of God, and shewn tliem- selves very ready to surrender their worldly interests in his service, that there remains no point on which their trust in God could be brought to trial and not come off victorious. With unhesitating faith Ahram had forsaken houses, and brethren, and country, and friends at the command of his Maker; and so im* plicitly did he rely upon His promises, that not even famine itself could drive him back to an idolatrous home : but he could not trust God with the one be- loved object of his ardent affection, — he could not adventure the bark which bore his heart's best cargo, upon the perilous waters, without endeavouring to ensure its safety by some short-sighted scheme of his own devising. And thus even the trustful Abram stained his hitherto unspotted profession with an equivocation, which if it did not amount to absolute falsehood, was altogether unworthy of his character as a man, and as a believer; and induced his con* fiding and obedient wife to a participation in his guilt. But the ungodly artifice availed him not; nay, it seems to have been the very means of bring- ing about that forcible detention of Sarai which he so much dreaded. In some eastern countries at the present day, where the will of the monarch is for the most part the law of the people, it is by no means a rare, or unheard of exercise of authority to claim for the haram the unmarried daughter or sister of a sub- ject. Some such recognized act of despotism may
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCSIPTUKB. 249
poMibly have obtained at that time in Egypt : at all events Abram appears to have had no power of ap« peal when bereaved of his wife ; and the expostula* tory tone of Pharaoh's address—-'* Why didst thon not teli me i^ was thy wife I why saidst tiioa, she is my sister ?"-*seems to imply that, had the patriarch himself held on in the same trathful eoufse he had hitiierto followed, he would both have escaped the dreaded danger, and saved his sool from sin.
How strange, if we were not ourselves human, and did not recognize the workings of the same un- equal fidth in OUT own hearts, would this conduct of Abram appear ! The promises of God which had allsred him from his home in Ur, to brave the perils and eliances of a wanderer's life, and which should hare been to him as an assurance of safety in all places whither he went, faded from his mind when the shadow of a coming danger fell on the supreme object of his earthly love. And who has not felt, as the gourd of his soul began to droop before his an- guished sight, in token of ultimate decay, that, how- ever great might have been his previous sacrifices, how- ever unbounded his trust in the never- failing provi* deuce of God, there was something in his possession too precious to be staked with unflinching firmness ; too dear to be adventured in that dark and unknown land, whither, when the fountains of life begin to fail, we are fain to descend with our best and dear- est ? Happily, when the king of terrors is the despot from whose rapacious grasp we would screen our beautiful and our beloved, we cannot by falsehood and equiTOcation build up a barrier of supposed de- fence against the encroachments of the foe ; or who dares to say he would use only lawful means to ward
250 FEMALB BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
off the danger of impending separation ? Bat there are cases in which the mistrastful condnct of Abram often finds a parallel. There are those believers in the trath as it is in Jesas, whose over-wrought anx- iety to screen the objects of their tender affection from the world's rough usage, will often betray them into a coarse of conduct alike hurtful to their pro- fession and dishonourable to their God. There are promises of provision and protection special!}' vouch- safed ; but the faith which can embrace these for its own support and sustenance, cannot realize them for others ; and therefore it is no uncommon spectacle to see a Christian husband and father toiling with un- due care to throw around his beloved wife or daugh- ters, every adventitious circumstance which shall command the respect of the world, or keep off its rude approach. And too frequently it falls out, that the very precautions which were trusted to, as a talisman to ward off the dreaded evil, are eventually the inciting causes to invite its advances ; and the fictitious embellishments with which, at a sacrifice of his spiritual health, the husband or father has in- vested a wife or child, become the glittering baits by which they are led away captive.
In the temporary separation which ensued between the patriarch and his' wife, how different must have been the feelings which agitated the bosom of Abram from the more simple grief of Sarai. Shut up in the palace of the king of Egypt, and surrounded by the Cashite women, whose dusky forms, and scarcely in- telligible language must have combined with the grand gloomy halls in which they met to fill her mind with dim uncertain terror, still there would be little if any remorse mingled with her sorrow. The tie
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE. 251
that bonnd her to Abram, rather than any exercise of faith in the promises of God, had made her a stranger and an exile npon earth. No distinct personal re* velation of the divine will bad, as yet, been made to her ; and that which she had learned concerning the character and purposes of Jehoyah, she had learned from the lips of her husband. If she had erred in participating with him in the falsehood of conceal- ing their near connexion, she had erred in the path of obedience to him who was at once the guardian of her earthly interests and her spiritual guide. Cer- tain it IS that no word of reproof is ever breathed against her in scripture for her unvarying submission to the will of her husband, while there is a most direct testimony in favour of her conjugal obedience. As a sharer in* the equivocation which Abram had practised, she was also a sharer in its consequences ; but upon him must have fallen the bitterness of its punishment, when left alone to reap in anguish the fruit of his own devices. Bereaved of her who was the light of his existence, a dishonoured man in the eyes of his attendants, who must have been ac* qaainted with, if not accessory to the guilt of his dissimulation, how terrible to the patriarch must have been this combination of remorse, suspense, and calamity ! But the servant of God had yet one refuge ; and he who could plead so fervently for the guilty cities of the plain, would not cease, we may be sure, urgently to sue for the pardon of his own sin, and for the removal of its consequent suffering. Je- hovah interposed for his afflicted servants. The doors of the plague-stricken palace were thrown open, and the wife of the patriarch restored, through the in- strumentality of Him who ** reproved even kings for
252 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
tbeir sakes ; ** who, ** while they went from one na^ tioQ to another, and from one ' kingdom to another people, suffered no man to do them wrong ; " in whose hand are the hearts of princes, to tarn as the riyers of water, whithersoever He will.
liYDIA.
How great a change would be produced in what is commonly^ but unfitly called Divine Worship, did we open our minds to the solemn conviction that the service is performed before God, even the Father. What hosts of idle wandering thoughts and vain de- sires would then be banished from the mind ; what solemnity would be thrown into the sacred duty. A stranger entering the place, and enquiring ^Why this sincere devotion? why this fervent adoration? why this humble prostration ? * would be answered — * God is here — they are worshipping before God, even the Father, and they dare not worship him otherwise than in spirit and in truth/ — Rev, T, Dale,
253
LETTERS TO A FRIEND.
V.
ITH, who was the son of Breogao, saryived not to give a report of the good land which he had seen. He died of his wounds before the landing of his men, with his son, Luighaid, on the coast of Spain. The dead body was brought on shore, and exposed to the yiew of the assembled multitude of the Milesian race, who, at this tragical sight, vowed vengeance against the whole nation of the treacherous mur- derers. Their determinate purpose was to extirpate, root and branch, the inhabitants of the newly-dis- covered island, and to form for themselves a settle- ment.
Preparations were set on foot, and soon a gallant fleet was ready, well manned with resolute Gadeliens. Spain was at this time rent in pieces with civil wars, as well as by the continual incni^ons of foreign in- vaders. Here then was another motive for the sons of Melisias to abandon the country. They took with them their widowed mother, Scota, who declared her resolution to share the fortunes of her sons, be it prosperous or adverse.
Forty Milesian chiefs commanded the forces, from whose names so many places in Ireland were after- wards called. They took with them their substance,
254 LETTERS TO A FRIEND.
their families, and all which appertained to them, having no intention to return to Spain.
The climate of Ireland is noted for its humidity. The fruitful shower often descends, and clothes the fields with verdure.
When the ships of the new invaders approached the island, in that age of dark superstition, it was probably a rolling cloud, in which they imagined they saw the similitude of some hideous monster, raised up by the enchantments of the Toatba de Danans, to prevent their landing; and in much terror they sailed along the coast to Inbher Sceine, in the west of Munster, where, meeting with no op- position, fancied, or real, they came on shore, and marched forward towards a high mountain, called Sllabh mis, where they met one of the queens, at- tended by a train of beauteous damsels, druids, and soothsayers. Amergin the Milesian chief, addressed himself to her, and with much frankness she made answer to his inquiries, informing him that she was the queen-consort of Ceathur, the eldest of three brothers, the sons of Cearmada, who reigned each one year alternately over the island, and during that year the king gave the name of his wife to the land, which was now called Inis-Banba, her own name, being the year of her husband's reign. The resi- dence of the second and third princesses were also near, or upon mountains. Sliabh Eibhline is men- tioned as the -place where they encountered Fodhla and her train ; and at Visneach they met with Eire. An old Irish poem describes them. It begins, — ^ Sanna bunadbus na ngaoidhiol;^ and is thus trans- lated :
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 255
Banba they met with all her princely train, On Sliabh Mis ; and on the fruitful plain Of Sliabh Eibhline, Fodhla next they spied. With priests and learned draids for her gaide. And all her attendant ladies were by her side. Then virtuous Eire appeared in pomp and state, In Visneach's pleasant fields, majestically gtent.
Another part of the poem tells of their lords,
' These Irish kings alternately reigned ; and for their consorts chose three princesses, Fodhla, Banba, and Eire/
They found the three kings at Teamair, where they kept their court in much kingly state and mag- nificence, surrounded by their guards, on whose magic arts they relied for security.
The Milesian chief Amergin, drew near with un- daunted courage, and reproached them for the bar- barous murder they had committed in depriving the unoffending Ith of his life : for which treacherous act, he declared his determination to be avenged by the blood of many in battle, if the reins of govern- ment were not quietly yielded to him. In short, he plainly told them that the only expiation he could receive was the possession of the island, to be deli- vered up to him and his brethren.
In reply, the princes freely confessed that they had no means of defending their island by force of arms ; but they had other resources which they were re- solved on trying. They complimented Amergin, and said they would be content to abide by the arbitra- tion of a chief so wise and able as they perceived him to be. Amergin cautiously heard the bland ex- pressions of a treacherous foe, yet deemed it expe- dient to accede to the proposed conditions, which were to return promptly, with his Gadeliens, to
256 LBTTBRS TO A FRIEND.
Inblier Seeioe, where tlieir skips were in tlie harbour, from thence to sail back nine waves, and then lo watch the effect of the enchaotments. If the spell oonld be broken, and the vessels coold ride on in safety, until all their army shonld set their feet apon the shore, the conntry shonld be their own undis- puted possession, and its present inhabitants should become tributaries.
For a time the elements seemed to favour the Tuatha de Banans, in driving back the invaders. A tempestaous wind buffetted the Milesian ieet, and drove them foul of each other.
It has already been said that eight sons of Milesian were chiefs in this expedition, whose character was that of nobleness and generosity. Five of these brave youths perished in the wrecks made by this terrific tempest. The ships were driven hither and thither, widely separated from each other. Ir, one of tbeae noble brothers, was driven upon the western coast of Desmond, where his vessel split upon the rocks, and every soul perished. The body of the unfortunate prince was cast upon the shore, and berng afterwards recognized, it was buried in a small island, called Sceilg Mithill. This island deserves particular no- tice. It is chiefly formed of rock in the sea, some leagues from the shore.
Since the time that Popery was established, this place has been mnoh frequented by her superstitions devotees.
The top of the rock is flat, with little depth of e^rth; in its entire breadth, it measures not more than three' acres, and is the resort of numenms wild fowl which fatten upon it, and as they afford a deH^ ciOQS repast to all who brave the danger of. taking
I.BTTSR8 TO A nHSMD. 257
tbem, many expose themselves to it for this purpose. Round the islet are high and inaccessible almost pve- cipiceSy which hang in towering magnificeaoe over the foaming snrge beneath. There is bat one way of aseent, whieh is extremely diffioalt and dangerous.
Against this rock the impetaons waves impelled the ill-fated vessel of one of the bravest of the Mile- sian princes. He was always seen in the front of the battle, and never fought withoot being crowned with victory, insomuch that the very name of Ir brought terror to his enemies. The three valiant sons of Milesius, who escaped the fury of the elements, were, Heromon, Heber, and our first-mentioned hero, Ameigin. Heremon, with great difficulty, landed, with a part of his fleet, at lubber Colpa, or Drogheda, as it is now called ; the other two at Inbher Sceine, and wero soon after attacked by the enemy, where a desperate battle was fought, in which their mother, Scota, lost her life. This was the first contest for the island, between the Milesians and the Tuatha de Danans, in which these last were defeated, as the old Irish rhyme celebrates.
On ffliab Mis our warlike squadrons stood^
Eager of fight, and prodigal of blood.
\1ctorions arms oor stout Gadeliens taora,
BrOin behind, and terror marched before :
▲ thousand of the enchanted host are slain.
They try their charms, and magic arts in ^whi,
Vdr with their mangled limbs they ooTcr all (he plaiii.
Iliree hundred only of oar troops are kiUed,
Who bravely tamed the fortune of the field.
Inbher Sceine, in the county of Kerry receives its name from the wife of Amergin, who was drowned in it Inbher signifies river*
After two or three more contests, ihe Milesians
MaBCH, 1840. S
258 LETTERS TO A FRIEND.
were completely victorioas, and made a division of the country between Heremon and Heber, wbioh statement is also found in a very old poem.
The two commanders shared the isle between (hem j Tlfte nortk dMsion Heremon enjoyed. From the rich Yale, where, in delightful streams, The Boyne, the darling of the ocean, flows ; Sonthward from thenee the royal Heber i^gned, And his dominion to the sea extended.
For aboat a year there was no rivalship between the brothers. After that period the fatal seed of dis- cord was sown by the interference of the wife of Heber, who thonght the division of the land was net eqaal, and in wishing for more, she lost ali ; as the life of her husband fell a sacrifice in the contention which she caused. And Amergin also was slain, in consequence of which, the island remained in the hands of Heremon alone.
Buring the reign of Heremon, the first incursion of the Picts is thus recorded, by the venerable Bede, in the first chapter of his Bcclesiastical History of England.
' It happened, as fame goes, that a nation of the Picts from Scythia, setting to sea in a few long sbips, after they had, by the varying of the wind, sailed round the coast of Britain, came at last into Ireland, and landed in the n(^rthern part of the island ; there they found the nation of the Seots, among whom they desired a settlement, but their reqnest was denied.'
From other accounts we hear that they landed in the harbour of Wexford, at a time when Leinster was governed by Cdomhthan Sciathbhiel, a descend- ant of the ancient Firbolgs. He was appointed by Heremon, and was a man of worth. At first he re-
LBTTEKS TO A FBIEMD. 959
ceived the strangers kindly, but soon it «|»peared that they had formed a conspiraey to possess Hieni* selTes of Leinster. When Heremon was made ac- quainted with their designs, he sent an army to drive them from the conntry. Aware of their inability to resist the Milesian troops, the Plots fell prostrate before the king, imploring his clemency with the most abject submission. Heremon generously par- doned the imbeoile invaders, and dismissed them with advice, that they should seek for themselves another settlement^ in a country lying east and by north of Ireland, which they did, taking with them to Scotland some Milesian wives^ and leaving in- stead, six of their men, who were suffered to remain on the portion of lands assigned to them.
One of these six was called the learned Trosdane ; be became useful to the Gadeliens in subduing the Britons, who bad come over and committed great depredations on both sides the river Slainge, and violated the law of nations by fighting with poisoned arrows. To turn away the deadly venom Trosdane 4isoovered an efficacious remedy.
The Chronicles of Ireland state that Heremon sent with the Picts a number of the posterity of Breogan, the father of Ith (the frst invader), and grandfather of Milesins. From Breogan originated the Bri- gantes, who afterwards formed large settlements in
EttglABd.
He also sent, on this occasion, a number i of the Tnallift de I>anans.
The foUowing account is given in the annals of Ittuifaili kc. * JEreamhon, the first of the Milesian race ID Lrdandy reigned fourteen years its sole monarch. In the beginning of his reign a people came into Ire-
8 9
260 LETTERS TO A FRIEND.
land from Thracia. They were called Picts, be- cause they eoionred their £aoes with several sorts of colours, which gave them a fierce and horrible ap- pearance. They landed in the east part of Leinster, and fought with the Lageniens, in which battle the prince of Leinster was wounded, and many of his men slain. When this news reached Ereamhon, he went out with a considerable force against the Picts, whom he completely defeated ; nor would allow them any footing in Ireland, and sent them ofif to a country north-east of this island, which is that now called Scotland, where be also sent many of the progeny of Breogan, called Brigantes, and of the Tnatha de Danans.
Cathluan was the first king of the Plots in Albain, (Scotland now.) After him sixty Pictish kings reigned, ending with Constantine.
Of the Tnatha de Danans, I find another record, which states that a grievous battle, called the Battle of Tailtean, had taken place between the Milesians and the Toatha de Danans, in which the latter were totally defeated, their kings slain, and most of their forces. All who escaped fled for concealment to the woods and caverns of the earth, leaving the land to the conquerors. In time they crept forth, and by degrees becoming familiar with the new inhabitants, they obtained the liberty of subjects.
I shall here conclude my letter, which I fear you will find tediously lengthened. After I ' have done with Keating's early details, of which I have merely taken short extracts, I think you will' #nd a consid- erable improvement in Irish history. I have taken up Keating, from finding that the different accounts of the same time, which I have read, have evidently
THB ROYAL BJBIPAL. 261
been taken from his, (or prinoipaliy so,) which makes me think that no doonmenta more aathentic than hii have been discovered.
THE ROYAL BKIDAL.
A asouT of joy, both deep and load Borst from the lips of that dense crowds
And spoke a- nation's pride, As moving throogh the crowded street, With coarteooa smile, and glances sweet,
Came England's royal bride.
And when the glorioos son went down, Gaily through London's olden town,
Shone forth a gorgeous scene ; Wreatbi star, and coronal gleamed there 'In honour of the young, the fair^
Of England's wedded Queen.
Yet put those bridal flowers away. Life is not a summer's day.
Of kmg festivity ; Ratherlet the prayer be made, Bather be the blessing said,
Our royal bride, for thee !
262 THE ROYAL BRIDAL.
Hush, oh hash, the masic's strain ! Or, if its chorus breathe again,
Rather let it be, A supplication loud and long. Breathed from the lips of that vast throng,
On lowly bended knee !
Prince, peer, and peasant — each must know, In changeful guise, of joy and woe.
Their hourly, daily share ; Tet would we not this day, the less, Ask for some boon thy life to bless,
Then what shall be our prayer ?
Oh ! be thou queen, or peasant girl, In cotton robe, or braid of pearl,
As wedded wife,*— above All earthly boons, that can be giren, Or asked for thee from bounteous heavea.
We'll ask, for Home's fond love I
M. A. S. Barber
263
NOTES ON GENESIS.
CHAFTEB III. '
1. The first art the deceiver practices agaiost the womaD is to infuse into her mind disoontent against the will of God ; the manner in which the question is pat ^* Yea, hath God said you shall not eat of every tree of the garden ? " evidently implying a supposed hardship in the restriction.
2. The woman at first feebly vindicates the good- ness of God by admitting that they were allowed the use of all the trees save one, but at the same time she makes no observation calculated to discourage and silence the tempter.
4. This assertion is, in a sense, true. Natural or bodily death did not immediately occur, though the body then became subject to death ; but a far heavier than bodily death was connected with the act of dis- obedience—spiritual death— death from the life of God that was in them.
5. This is also true : .they did acquire a new know- ledge ; but the tempter concealed from her view that for the acquisition of blind, contracted, human know- ledge they were to forfeit the heavenly wisdom, which had hitherto flowed into, and ruled their hearts. (See note on ii. 17.) It is by partial truth more frequently than by open falsehood the devil deludes and de- stroys the blind followers of error. Misapplied truth
264 NOTKS ON GENESIS.
was one of the weapons he used against the Lord himself in the temptation, which he parried, patting Satan to silence by qaotatioos from scriptare, shew** ing the false use he made of the truths he asserted* This, be assured, my cbiki, is the only method of de- ireloping the deceptions of Satan, whether silently instilled into your mind or openly taught by his human ministers. Whatever interpretation of any given passage of scripture does not coincide and harmonise with the general scope and tenor of the whole must be false, since €rod is the author of all, and will not contradict himself* Observe here into what fatal error the smallest deviation from the troth of God may lead us ; we may believe many truths and yet be lost from our misapprehension of others*
6. The woman must, no doubt, have before ob- served that the fruit was pleasant to the eyes, and appeared good for food ; but knowing it to be prohi- bited, she had viewed it without desire, until the idea, now suggested, of hardship, in the prohibition, combined with the desire of independence, which is inseparably connected with discontent under the commands Of a superior, awakened her wishes to such a wild and frantic height as cast aside every restraint of fear or gratitude, and induced her to commit the crime to which, perhaps but a few mi« nutes before, she had not even an inclination*
'* And gave to her husband, and he did eat/' We here find no arguments urged ; he loved the creature mpre than the Creator, and yielded to her instead of obeying Him.
As on this great and awful event, the fall of man, turns every thing most deeply and lastingly import- ant for us to know, it behoves us to pause here, and
NOTfiS ON OBNESIS* 265
eoi|aire what have been the effects produced on Adam, and, in bim, on bis posterity. Some people speak as if nature had been wholly subverted and destroyed, but this language tends to confusion of ideas, and consequently to dangerous and mislead- ing deductions from principles not thoroughly under- stood. The nature of eyery thing, natural and im- materiai, is that mode of existence which the Creator has bestowed on that thing. The nature of man, in this sense of the word, is not destroyed, but per- yerted. The original nature of man, the original intent, and design, and fitness of all his powers and faculties, or, in other words, the thing man, acting up to his true nature, ought to be, and but for sin would be, is just the same now As at his first creation. ** God created man upright, but be has sought out for himself many inventions.'' Sin has corrupted all his powers, and faculties, and inclinations ; has tamed them aside from their true end and object; has withdrawn them from terminating in God, the only source of good, as their Creator, and reduced them to terminate in himself; and, consequently, in such narrow, contracted views of good as come within the reach of a finite, limited being, unenlightened by the light which cometh from above. Hence it fol- lows that the more man obeys the present corrupt bent of his nature, the more deeply he is involved in sin, and the more he follows, his genuine, original natare, now corrupted not effaced, the more he re- sembles the image in which he first was stamped. There is not a single habit of vice in the mind, or act of vice in the conduct, that does not, on examination, bear experimental evidence to the truth of this asser- tion. Every power, every passion of original human
266 NOTES ON GENESIS.
nature is capable either of good or evil, aceordihg as it is directed. Vice does not proceed from the ge- nuine nature of any passion, bat from its corruption and its application to selfish ends and purposes :
'Think not your passion from corruption springs. Though to corruption now they lend their wings.'
The same powers and passions that, under the gui- dance of God, were instruments of good, are, in the hands of Satan, instruments of evil. Bat how shall the fallen, corrupted creature turn back, through all the mazes of corruption, to his great, original desti- nation ? How free his powers and faculties from the grasp of Satan, and restore them to the guidance €»f God ? With man this is impossible. It is impossible that those very powers which are corrupted, blinded, and enslaved, should still retain the capability of per* eeiving and breaking through their thraldom,*reno- vating themselves, and returning to their original purity. If we only consider the natural tendency of sin to produce sin, we shall be fully sensible* that it is indeed impossible. '^ But with God all things are possible." To renovate fallen man, to graft him back again into the living vine from which he had been broken off, (see John xv. 1 — 7,) the second Adam be- came a living head, ** that as in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive." All who truly wish to return to God ; who feel their inability, in their own powers to return ; who, consequently, feel the want of a Saviour, and gladly embrace him as theip re- demption from the evils from which they could not deliver themselves, will find in his enlightening, strengthening, purifying grace, that it is possible with God to " create a clean heart and renew a right
NOTES ON GBNESISw 267
spirit within them." Bat where is this wish, this sense of inability, this oonsoions want of a Saviont to he found ? Not surely in the blinded, perverted heart of man, ever prone to ^* pnt evil for good and good for evil.'' The wish to retarn to God, the seose of inability to do so, the oonscioos want of a Savioar, the knowledge that soch a Saviour is provided, '* able and willing to save,'' must all come from God. They constitute repentance and faith, and both are the gift of God. Acts V. 81. Eph. ih 8.
For want of a dae distinction between the original and the corrupted nature of man, I have often heard religious persons rail at human nature in language Which has appeared to me almost reproachful against the Creator, and more becoming avowed misanthropes than professed Christians; white the libertine is often, from the same cause, left unanswered when he pleads his natural passions, in behalf of sins which are the result, not of the natural, but of the corrupted state of his passions. From the same want of a due sense of the awful difference there is between man sueh as he now is, and man such as he was originally d^eated, and but for sin might still be, multitudes re- main ignorant of the necessity of renovation ; and many who acknowledge it are far from being aware of the fbll extent in which it is requisite. Hence many coldly believe in the history of Jesus Christ, and call him their Saviour, without that conscious sense of the want of His salvation, which would induce them really to cling to Him as such ; but, on the contrary, if they can discern in their dispositions some beautiful frag-* ments of the original nature of man, they are apt to con- tent themselves with them, and build their fallacious hopes on them as passports to eternal glory and fell<^
268 170TES ON GENESIS.
cUy, instead of regarding them as sad endences of the height from which they had fallen. Man, in dis- obeying God at the suggestion of Satan, transfencd to him his allegiance, himself, and his possessions, this fair creation. All are now under the dominion^ of Satan, all are defaced, corrupted, poisoned by hia influence, so that conversion is not merely the intro- duction of some beautiful qualities into the hiunan character, nor the removal of some that are more pal^ pably defiled and hateful ; but it is the complete and entire translation of the individual '* from the king- dom of darkness into the kingdom of God's dear Son."
7. The first effect of their newly-acquired wisdom was shame. They sought in outward covering some substitute for the inward glory and purity they had lost.
8. Fear had now taken plaee of the love of God in their hearts, and the blindness and folly of their hu- man wisdom is strongly evinced in the vain attempt to hide themselves, by the shade of the trees, from the all-seeing eyes. of God. I>read and consequent hatred of God, and a desire to hide from His inspec- tion and our own, by shades easily penetrable to. His eyes, though often fatally impervious to those of man, naturally dwell in the human heart in its fsMtn and separated state. *' The carnal heart is enmily against God."
12. The soul no longer dwelling in God. as its cen<» tre, bat each becoming individually his own centve^ selfishness must necessarily become a part, if i may not rather say the whole, of the creation, and is now strongly evidenced in Adam's endcavomr to cast the blame _from himself, even on the beloved object for
NOTES ON GENB8I8. 269
whose sake he had sinned. There seems a reproach loTelled against God himself in the words '^The wo- man whom Thoa gavest me.''
13. Here the woman attempts to weave a flimsy eoYertng for her sin, by easting the blame on the ser- pent. Note on 8. •
ISw This is the opening of the glorioos, blessed promise which is confirmed, unfolded, enlarged, and aeted on throaghoat the Scriptares, and has been fal- fililog, and is now fulfilling, in the world. Christ came to bruise the serpent's head, to crush the power which man had given to Satan over himself and the whole creation, and to rescae them from his domi- nion. It has been asked, why has he suffered nearly 6,000 years to elapse before He has fully accom- plished this deliverance? and why are not the whole human race delivered from the power of Satan, in- stead of a few selected individuals whom we see brought to God, while the world in general continues to this day lying in wickedness? One answer serves for both questions. The facts are manifest. But wktf God has determined they should be as they are, He has not seen fit to reveal, and we have no means of knowing the mind of God but by his revelation of himself. To me it seems most unfitting that the crea- tures of His hand should expect that God would ex* plain to them the reasons of all His acts, which must, in the very nature of things, be high above their com- prehension. ** Shall not the Lord of all the earth do right/' whatever judgment His poor short-sighted oieatures may form of His dealings?
The word *' seed " being used in English both for plural and singular, does not point the promise to an individual, as distinctly as in the original^ Gal. iii.
270 NOTES ON GENESIS.
16. The last words of the verse plainly intiknate A«t the promised Deliverer mast encottiiter sofferings in his work of mercy.
16. The woman's conception is maltiplied fts well as her sorrow in it. It is perhaps too daring a con- jectare, bat I offer it only as a conjecture: may not the children born on the first plan of the ereatioB be the elect, and those added under the corse be those who reject all offers and means of salvation? By the latter part of the verse, it appears that the man and his wife had hitherto been on an equality. No sape^ riority, no authority, was needful between two equally governed by the Holy and Peace-giving Spirit of God; But when they had thrown themselves under the dominion of sin, it became expedient to estabHsh authority in one, to prevent the discord and misery which would now flow from equality. Thus did God " even in his wrath remember mercy."
17. Here again is mercy in the shape of punish- ment. The soul of man, no longer filled with the fullness of Grod, is thrown open to hurtful and sinful iipaginations of its own ; and much sin and misery are prevented by the merciful chastisment whioh ap- points him to a life of industry. " Ob, how wonder- ful are the works of God, and his ways past finding ont.'^ Past finding out indeed, to all who will not learn them from himself.
22 to the end. Of this tree of life I have nevor heard any explanation that appeared to mo satlsfoe^ tory : neither have I been able to find, in other parts of scripture any light upon the subject. I have there- fore nothing to offer you but my own doubtliii «ad hesitating opinion. I have heard it iUMerted thli,t this tree of life is emblematical of Christ, ^ut I can-
NOTES ON GENBSI8. 27l
not see how. Christ is indeed the trae Tree of Life, and his ** leaves are for the healing of the nations." Rev. xxii. 2. He is the Bread of Life, and we are commanded to feed on him, to live in him, and a variety of other expressions, contradictory, as appears to me, to the idea of exclasion from this tree, if an emblem of him. The manna which fell from heaven, the paschal lamb, and other sacrifices, were unques- tionably types or emblems of Christ ; and of these the chosen people were not only permitted but com- manded to eat. On the manna, in particular, they were fed, when they could obtain no other means of subsistence; a striking emblem no.t only of Christ himself, but also of the disposition towards him of man, who never accepts of salvation from Him until deprived of every other hope. This tree of life I rather conceive to* be somewhat similar in nature to the tree of knowledge, which on trial proved to be only a substitution of human for divine. It was not prohibited while man was in a state of innocence and union with God, for then it was harmless, ii. 16, J7; iii. 2,3. But after he had fallen by seeking in- dependent knowledge, bad he grasped at life through the same illusive means, he must, as appears to me, have sealed his own immortal misery — life in him- self, and not in God. God, in his mercy, intended to bring back to himself a great portion of the fallen race of man, through the true' Bread of life which Cometh down from heaven, John vi. 32, 33, 35 ; and therefore precluded Adam from the possibility of substituting. in Christ's room an illusive, deceptions •xpedient of his own. We see this view exemplified in every conversion. Man is first forced to renounce his own tree of life, whether he grows it on a false
272 NOTES OK GENESIS.
idea of the mercy of God, or of his own imagined merit, to feel the necessity of the true life, '' which is hid in Christ," and thus gladly to receiye the pro- mised Saviour.
Or perhaps we may consider this tree of life as simply signifying life ; not the life that is in Christ, neither a substitution for it, but simply life, such as was originally promised, and was to be obtained only by obedience. From this life man was, by his dis- obedience, necessarily excluded, and all access to it was prevented by the '' flaming sword which tamed every way.'' Taking it in this light, it would appear that this tree represented life under the first promise, or covenant of works ; and the tree of life, in Rev. xxii. 2, life by the second promise, or covenant of grace. The flaming sword, in this view, appears to be the sword justice, which turns every way, guard- ing every part of the law. Oh, why will man dare to encounter and defy this awful sword, by grasping at life through the deeds of the law, instead of ac- cepting it as it is freely offered by Him in whose pre- cious blood, ** shed for the remission of sins,'' that sword is sheathed.
273
AT HOM£.
Home is to man's nataial affections what the nest of its young is to the affections of the fowls of heaven ; bat if we should see the birds of heaven forsaking tbei,r young and callow brood, in order to contend in song, in beauty of plumage, or in the rapidity of flight, — to enjoy themselves in flocks, when they ought to be providing for their young, and teaching their yoang how to provide for themselves,— what would we say, but that natural affection had inter- mitted its course, and a wonderful thing had come to pass in the animal creation? Bat, ah! how truly doth it so fare in famUUs in these times ; when all the day is spent in business or in vanity, and all the night in feasting or in greater vanity. Between the oppression of business and the oppression of fashion, the tender, and delicate, and blessed abode of our natural affections, which our fathers called Home, hath been almost crushed to pieces, and the very word hath changed it meaning; soXhhi^ At Home* now signifies being surrounded by a mnltitade, and ^not at home* almost signifies being alone with your children. — lrv%ng*s * LnH Days,* page 167.
March, 1840.
SUtfeto of Sooittf.
THE GHiyBCH OF ROME EXAMINED; or.
Can I ever enter the Church of Rome, so Umg as I believe the, whole Bible? A question submitted to the conscience of every Christian reader* Translated from the French of the Rev. C* Malan, D.D,, Pastor of the Church of. Testimony^ Geneva^ by the Rev. John Cormachf D,D,y Minister of Stow. Nisbet and Co.
If Cassar Malan had been sent into the world for no other purpose than to write this book, it would have been worth a long^ life of trial and of stodjr to accom- plish the task. We know not how to characterize the volume : it is perfectly unique. He has encoun- tered Popery, and smashed it to atoms without em- ploying one severe, harsh, or even uncourteous phrase. He has entered into the depths of controversy, with- out penning a sentence of abstruse, heavy, or unin- teresting matter. With the tenderness, gracefulness, ipven playfulness of an infant he has cast down and
THE COTTAGE AMONG THE MOUNTAINS. 275
demolished the whole fabric of lies ; and in his own glowing style of chaste enthusiasm has he flang over the rain an arch of triumph* engraven with the name of Jesas. A Tivacity, a softness and a strength are displayed in these pages that we have often met with separately, bat never, we think, so perfectly com- bined. Many readers wiU exclaim, ' This ealogy is extravagant : ' let them read the book, and afterwards condemn ns.
The translator has entered into the spirit of his original with all the energy of a kindred soul. His brief preface is in itself a valuable work. We are carried back to those glorious days when the sister charches, striving together for the faith of the gospel, rent off and trampled on the yoke of Rome. True catholicity, that pure scriptural liberality which is the sunny antipodes to the midnight darkness of mo- dern liberalism, brightens and warms the whole work. We cannot pass over in silence the apposite remarks of Dr. Cormack on National Boards of Education ; and from our heart we echo the concluding apostro- phe of his spirited preface.
THE COTTAGE AMONG THE MOUNTAINS. A Ntarrative of peculiarly interesting Facts. By the Autk&r of ** Conversations on Mind and Matter*" Seeley and Burnside.
The facts narrated here are peculiarly interesting ; and the style in which they are conveyed is very pleasing too. The acooant of God*s work in the soul of the deaf and dumb young man, or rather the pos- sibility of his making it so plainly known to others
T S
276 REVIEW OF books:
without the mediam of any language whatever, save that of arbitrary, self-taught signs, may stagger the eredulity of some readers* We know nothing of the author, nor of the scenes and persons of whom be writes ; but we can vouch for the perfect credibility of his narrative, having been privileged to witness and rejoice in a similar case. The little volame, wherein this subject occupies but a small space, con- tains much that is both entertaining and instruetive. The old lady, whose horror of John Wesley, and dread of legal preaching are so effectively brought oat, represents a class only too numerous ; while the author's remarks on that topic are well worthy of special attention.
LE BOUQUET DES SOUVENIRS ; a Wreath of FHetuUhip, The B&tanieal portion by the Rev. J, S, Hendowj Professor of Botany in the University of Cambridge. Twenty-five colowed plates. Tyas.
The loveliness of these pictured flowers is of course the first attraction of a very elegant and splendid voltime; to this we are to add brief, but valuable botanical notices of each subject, from the pen of the Cambridge professor, and some pleasing reflections, both in prose and verse, from other bands, as it would appear of the same family, not unmingled with sen- timents of piety that must wake a response in the bosom of every serious reader. The volume is splen- didly got up, so far as the publishing department is concerned ; every decoration being appropriate to its character as a * Bouquet/
277
MARY LESLIE'S VISIT TO IRELAND. By the Autkcr of * Real Scetus in Iri$h Life* Tims^ Dab* lin; Nisbet and €o.
Thb aathor has contrive in a little ninepenoy book, to say more on behalf of the scriptoral education of her dear countrymen in their awn loved tongue, than some writers could have done in a f^ood octavo. We are introduced, in the person of an English visitor, to flcenes most touchingly true to nature ; and hear, in their peculiar idiom, the testimony of Erin's chil- dren to the blessed effects already produced by the entrance among them of the light and life-giving word. Every day the call becomes more imperative on as to help forward this blessed work: its progress, though comparatively silent, is neither slow nor small; and, if we could rightly judge the urgency of the case, we should not be slack. The young lady who wrote this little book has done much in the cause, and we pray God to prosper her work!
HISTORICAL SKETCH of the Rite, Progress, and Decline of the Reformation in Poland^ and of the In- jluenee which the Scriptural Doctrines have exercised on that Country in Literary, Moral, and Political respects* By Count Valerian Krasinshi. In two vols. Vol, IL Murray, &c.
Thb nortbera despot, whose daring finger blotted out the noble little kingdom of Poland from the world's map, has formed projects not a whit less hostile against England ; and, despite our pride, he may yet
278 RBTisw OF books:
prove to be God's appointed minister to execute ven- geance against as. ft behoves as, in this day of gross national bacl^sllding, to give good heed to sach lessons and examples as are voacbsafed as in the re- corded experience of other lands ; and in the work of Count Krasinski we have one pecaliarly applica- bje. The first volume was noticed in a former num- ber of this periodical. The work is now complete ; and we trust its excellent author will find this his labour of Christian patriotism is not coldly welcomed by the Protestants of England. If it be, the loss is theirs more than bis.
NARRATIVE of the Revival of Religion at Kilsyth, Camhuslangf and other places, in 1742. Bg the Rev. James Robe, A.M., Minister of Kilsyth. With an Introduetory Essay by the Rev. Robert Buchanan, Minister of the Tron Church, Glasgow. Collins ; Whittaker and Co., &c.
The Introductory Essay is a valuable piece of writ- ing. It sets forth, with powerful effect, the deep- seated root of all our national evils; and presses upon each individual believer the part which it be- hoves him to take towards their removal. In refer- ence to the ' revival ' of religion, Mr. Buchanan closes with this striking simile, — * But this painful sensation among worldly men which a religious revival creates, is not therefore to be regarded as an evil : on tlie contrary, it is one of the most important blessings such a revival involves. It is like a spring breaking out under a stagnant pool, sending up by the first rush of its waters the mud which had lain quietly at
THB PROTEST. 279
the bottom, but destined by its oontinaed flow to parify and sweeten that which had before been only the parent of corraption/ The narrative itself is very interesting.
Wb haTe seen a most beaatifnl engraving now in progress, under the skilful hand of Mr. Walker, from a fine painting by Cattermole, the subject of which is of no common interest It represents the glorious Reformers of Germany, at the Diet of Spires, pre- senting to King Ferdinand, by the hand of the Elec- tor John, that Protest from which we, the pure scriptural Catholic church, derive our distinguishing name, as Protestants against the antichristlan apos- tacy of Rome. Authentic portraits of Luther, Me- lancthon, and others Whose names are enshrined in our hearts, as well as of the royal personages en- gaged, stamp a high value on the piece. It will be splendid when complete ; and it is gratifying to see the names of our two Queens heading the subscrip- tion list.
280
THE PROTESTANT.
' I WONT go,' said my uDcle, as with folded arms he stood at the window of my study, debating within himself a point where I was equally undecided.
' The weather seems to forbid it, indeed,' I re- marked.
' The weather ! when did you see me in the char- acter of fair-weather Jack, my good niece J ' asked the old sailor, somewhat nettled* ' No, it is not a shower, or a torrent of rain could withhold the ex- pression of those loyal feelings that must, and will cleave to the House of Brunswick. The fact is, I cannot forget that on the last occasion when I saw my soyereign, mine was the only hat in a rather lai^e group of silent bystanders, lifted to greet her with the respect that royalty must ever claim from its sub- jects. I could not bear to witness such another slight pat upon my Queen/
' Neither would yon, dear uncle : the circumstances are changed. There! that distant gun even now gave signal that the ring is placed upon her finger : she has plighted the vow that binds her to one in holy bands, appointed of God — Another report ! Oh, may the Lord confirm the blessing which that young royal pair are now receiving from, the lips of his ven- erable minister ! '
* Amen, Amen ! * exclaimed my uncle, on whom
THK PROTESTANT. 281
the soand of the far-off cannon had operated with magic effect. ' Come, order a oarriage without de- lay : we'll go towards Kensington, and have one look at the young couple.'
A few minutes saw us on the road : but the trans- ient gleam of fair weather was soon followed by a heavier fall of rain.
* There is brightness in the horizon, nevertheless/ rennarked my uncle, as he closed the window against the pelting storm ; * and we wijl abide patiently the dispersion of those stormy symptoms.'
Before we reached our destination in Hyde Park, the weather had sufficiently changed to admit of our carriage being thrown open, which' afforded us a wide sorvey of the animated scene. We were near the Kensington gate of the Park, and as some little un- crertainty at first prevailed as to which road the royal pair would take, this, where in either case they most needs pass, became an attractive point. Handsome carriages were drawn up on each side, equestrian gentlemen grouped themselves to the best advantage, and a dense throng of determined pedestrians pressed even to the wheels and horses, which lining the foot- way, rather impeded their prospect. My uncle stood erect in the carriage, his dark-blue surtoot conspicu- ously displaying the white satin rosette on which I had lavished all my skill, the hat somewhat raised from his open forehead, and the glow of healthy old age, heightened by the moment's excitement, mantling on his cheek. Many gased at the honest veteran ; and he, in return, cast a look of speaking benevolence on all around him.
' How many changes,' he abruptly said, ' have come over this scene since, as the school-boy guest of
282 THE PROTESTANT.
an old family io KensiogtoD, I bowled inyhoopaloDgp this road I '
' Changes, indeed ! ancle: bat the mightiest change is in the living department of the scenery/
' Ay ; I doubt whether there be one in many of the hundreds now present who have numbered my years.'
Jost then an old lady, dressed with as much regard to the fashion of former days as could be retained without extreme singularity, was seen advancing across the Park, and anxiously seeking an interval by which to pass into the front rank. A pretty wait- ing-maid was apparently bent on dissuading her, but the dame would not be deterred ; and after a rapid survey tbroogh her spectacles, she boldly advanced into the throng. I remarked, half-laughing, * How strong is the passion of sight-seeing in some people!'
' Say not so,' replied my ancle in one of his gent- lest tones ; * rather call it the passion of loyalty, which, in spite of all discouragement, will throb to the last pulse in the bosoms of those who knew what it was to call George the Third their king, while one of his race wears the British diadem. To me there is something beautiful in the eagerness of that old lady, to catch a glimpse of her young, wedded Queen, at the expense of personal inconvenience, and even peril, to say nothing of the weather. I have noticed several such to-day ; and trust me, my dear, the silent prayer that will be sent up from their hearts, will do more for their object than all the courtly homage of the glittering circle by whom she is even now surrounded in the palace.'
I felt reproved ; and had not the old lady already been lost in the crowd, I believe I should have in- vited her into the carriage.
THE PROTISSTANT. 283
Meanwbile my ancle's tfaoai^hts bad taken another tarn, glancing^ at a sabject in whieb be is deeply in- terested* ' Con Id the paternal eye of oar revered old king have beheld the mighty masses this day congregtited aroand his palaces, and known how im- mense a proportion of them were as sheep not having a shepherd — left to the ravening wolf, for lack of that which charch and state are alike bound to pro- "vide, he would not have given sleep to his eyes nor slumber to his eye-lids, until means were devised for supplying the deficiency.'
' Indeed, uncle, though the numbers drawn out on paper look formidable, and plead forcibly, their ef- fect is as nothing compared with the actual sight of these our neglected fellow-sinners, left as a prey to every spoiler, with the certainty upon us of again meeting them all — awful thought !— before the judg- ment-seat of Christ.'
' There is a great outcry against dissent, in some quarters,' proceeded my uncle ; ' but with this spec- tacle before us, and the consciousness that the Papist, the Infidel, yea, even that loathsome abomination — the Socialist, are prowling all around to ensnare these souls to their eternal ruin, he must be a singular spe- cimen of a Christian churchman, who is not led to bless God for every orthodox dissenting chapel in the land.'
^ What is the proportion among these crowds of the poorer classes, for whom no accommodation is provided in parish churches, or in Episcopal chapels of ease ? '
' I cannot correctly say, with regard to those before us, my dear ; but I know we have the authority of Her Majesty's ecclesiastical commissioners, for stat-
284 THE PROTESTANT.
ing that if only one church were allowed to a popula- tion of 9000 individaals, we should require in London alone 279 churches in addition to all that we possess, even including every proprietary chapel now stand- ing. To a population exceeding a million, only ld9 ordained clergymen are assigned.'
' One hundred and thirty-nine stewards rightly to divide the word of life among' ten hundred thousand of starving souls I It is fearful to think on.'
* Ay, but many are fed by our dissenting brethren: yet, alas ! the multitudes who are left an undisputed prey to Popish idolatry on the one hand, and to all the horrors of atheistical depravity on the other, are sufficient to provoke the wrath of the Most Highest^ to blot but from the face of the earth such a nation as this.'
' And they furnish in themselves ready instruments to wreak his vengeance too. Now, uncle, how can we assist to stem this terrific torrent of desolation, which seems ready to burst, as in some places it has indeed done, over the land? '
^ Petition, petition : lay before the throne piles of , petitions ; let the tables of either house groan under their weight. Cursed as our legislature already is with so many who care not one atom whether the object of the nation's faith be thf Lord of Hosts, or the dead virgin, the impostor Mahomet, or the reptile Owen, or Satan himself, in whose existence they do not believe, still we are not arrived at such a pass as to embolden any number of them to stand up and stiHe the cry of a whole people for their spiritual rights ; or the demands of those who know the truth that it should be imparted to their reckless fellow- conntrymen, the most deadly symptom of whose case
THE PROTBSTANT. 285
is that they feel not the privation which destroys their souls.'
* Well, I will do my hest to roase my friends in this eaase ; but, uncle, the Commons House is too busy now in taking care of our legal privileges to bestow any of their valuable attention on our eccle- siastical concerns.'
* Let them go on/ said my uncle proudly ; and he began to hum a certain favourite stanza of his, be- ginning,
"niee baaghty tyranto ne'er shall tame,
when a movement and a buz among the crowd, with a distant glimpse of some splendid liveries put us on the qui vive, and checked his national melody.
It was, however, the Dake of Sussex alone, re- turning from the breakfast: all hats were respect- fully raised, as the carriage drove rapidly by.
* I could almost crave,' said my uncle, *■ the gift of prescience as to the results of the eventful work in which that royal duke has just been engaged. When he placed the hand of our fair Queen in that of the young Prince, oh what a doom, for weal or for woe, was probably sealed to my country ! *
He sat down, as if overwhelmed by the thought, and seemed in mental prayer.
' Dear uncle, these are wrestling days for all of us : turn where we will, a battle is raging, and on all sides on the increase. The church of England is engaged at once with many open foes from without, and wag- ing the good fight of faith within against the perilous old novelties of Puseyism. The third estate of the realm, lately in collision with the second, has turned from it to prosecute a more vigorous combat against
286 THE PROTESTANT.
the laws-, and those public liberties wherein it used especially to make its boast. In Ireland Protestant- ism is sternly planting^ its foot against that infamous outrage, the Municipal Corporation Bill, which, if it be forced on the country will lay her low in the mire of the Vatican, or drench her green plains once more with a sanguinary flood* Oh for a rescue, dear uncle, a rescue for Ireland, ere all be lost through the foul treachery of lier own recreant champions ! '
My uncle rose again, but turned his face from me : he does not always like to have the workings of his bold spirit seen. I resumed,
' And Scotland — she is up in a blaze on the sub> ject nearest, dearest to her inmost heart — the privi* leges of her old kirk, so rudely, and so wrongfully assailed.'
' Success to her ! * cried my uncle, enthusiastically, 'and never fear for her. A people so united— a church so compactly put together, able and ready to wield such a mass of intellect cased in the sternest resolution, and sharpened by Christian knowledge, faith and practice, will not succumb. The kirk has nailed her colours to the mast, my girl, and mast and all may come down, but strike them she never will.*
My uncle had raise his voice to such a pitch, that I know not what the surrounding crowd might have thought, had not their attention and ours been just then arrested by the approach of a gallant array. Heralded by a few life guards, and unmarked by the slightest display of regal, or indeed of any borrowed splendour, came an elegant travelling carriage: the windows were down; and side by side were seen the royal pair, with looks as radiant, as joyous, as
THE PROTESTANT. 287
far removed from the slightest semblance of pomp or pride as ever were those of rustic yoatb and village maiden. The view though transient was perfect: the reception given was most cordial, and its acknow- ledgment alike frank, graceful and warm. My uncle's loyalty, as though it had gained strength by being somewhat bottled dbwn, burst forth in a broad- side of huzzas, as heiwaved his hat at the utmost stretch of a long arm, and alfaiost unconsciously pointed with the other hand to his white rosette; I never saw him morp excited.
' Now,' said he, ' as the carriage slowly made its way back through the park, * now I am content I have seen my Queen unattended, and, oh, I hope un- influenced by the serpent coils that have so long been wound about her ; I have seen her, as the bride of one who, if there be any truth in human faces, is a a Saxon of the old stock, honest, manly, 'and un- spoilt. Ay, and we have shewn our Queen what love our bosoms bear to her,, individually, and what hope we cherish for the future. Oh, this bright warm sun-beam ! it broke forth on us just before she came in view, and may it prove an auspicious type of the shining forth again of England's crown and of England's honour and might in their ancient lustre ! We will not now despond: we will pray, and hope, and trust, that the partner whom God has given her may be in His hand the means of purifying her court, and rendering it the centre of all that is precious in the land, not the refuge of what is vile.*
We passed Apsley house : ' Stand firm, Welling- ton,^ ejaculated my uncle, ' You have taken up lately a noble position, on the ground of our national Pro- testantism, and our national morals. With yon also.
288 THE FBOTESTAKT.
I trust, at eventide it is beginning to be light ; stand firm, for yoars may be the lot to baild up the breach yoa helped to make, and to retrlere oar heavy loss*'
Since the day of the royal nuptials, England has had a deeper lesson presented to her relnctant stody, touching the nature and extent of the Lord's contro- versy with her. She impiously thought that the surrender of her national Protest might be made, without endangering her civil liberties, or loosening the bonds of social order. What sees she now im- pending over this vaunted home of freedom ? A de- mocratic tyranny, equally irresponsible with that of the most absolute autocracy, and far more dangerous. She sees the individuals, who by that unfaithful act were admitted to her senate, aided and abetted by those who admitted them, invading the fireside sanc- tuary of her sons, immuring the officers of her law in a felon's prison-house, and affording practical illustration that the foot which could dare to spurn the Bible from the schools of her children will never scruple to set its heel on the boasted Magna Charta of her hitherto inviolable rights.
THE
CHRISTIAN LADY'S MAGAZINE
APRIL, 1840.
IB
HELEN FLEETWOOD.
IX.
A SHORT period saflSced to shew the widow Green the natare of the difficolties in which she had been planged, in common with thousands more ; and which ntteriy defied her skill when she cast aboat for some means of extrication. The gradnal decline of many comforts, the increase of privation, and pressure of anxiety as regarded worldly things, were felt as flesh will feel them. The consciousness of haying been deceived, entrapped, and fraudfully expatriated from the scene of long respectability and the bosom of a friendly neighbourhood, wounded her natural feeU ings, and mortified the pride that constantly lurks in every human heart But these were light afflictions indeed compared with the poignancy of her self- re-
APBI^ 1840. u
290 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
proach when oontemplating, as she was compelled to do> the change that came over the children of her love, Helen was evidently unhappy, and as evi- dently strove to conceal from her the cause of her dejection, while positively denying that it arose from bodily fatigue or illness ; a line of conduct so incon- sistent with the ingenuous character of the girl as to create involuntary misgivings, wrongful to their ob- ject, but of which she was happily ignorant. Mary was becoming proud and passionate to a degree that called for frequent rebukes, and these again seemed to add fuel to the fire of her unholy feelings, or were met with a levity even more distressing still in the eyes of her pious grandmother. Willy appeared to lose the childish simplicity of his character ; he, the petted lamb of her little flock, now seemed to shrink from her eye ; and the laugh excited by his whispered communications to Mary or James, was cautiously checked as soon as it attracted her observation. This rankled in her bosom more painfully than any thing else, for she could not bear to lose bis loving confi- dence, to see him stealing away from her side, and desirous of evading the queries of anxious affection ; nor did she like to coofess to herself that the sly leer of bold cunning was supplanting the bright open look of innocent animation which had always marked his clear blue eye. To rescue him, at least, was the desire of her heart; but then how could she effect it? There was no alternative but removal to another mill, or utter idleness. The last, she knew, would prove as ruinous to his morals in such a neighbourhood as the place he was employed in could do ; besides losing the care which Parkins bad promised to bestow on him in bis present situation Then her circumstances
HSLBX PLBBTWOOD. 291
forbade the sabfraction of a penny from tbeir poor income, already falling far »bort of tbeir expenditure, and warning her tbat she must look out for a yet more humble abode, ere the remnant of her scanty purse, so sadly lightened since she left her tillage home, was wholly gone.
James alone retained the characteristics that had but a while ago distinguished them all ; but his bodily heahh declined with a rapidity that startled her. His appetite remained, and many a morsel did she con- trive to spare from the cravings of her own stomach to replenish his plate ; but the food seemed to impart no nourishment ; he became more pallid, more lan- guid and enfeebled, as she looked for the reverse. He was uncomplaining, nevertheless, mild, dutiful, and affectionate. His Bible became more precious, and though be never reproved the waywardness of Mary, or noticed the change in Willy, he evidently strove to supply their lack of attention to their aged friend. To Helen his attachment seemed always on the increase ; and of the few smiles that lighted up her thoughtful countenance, the greater number were drawn forth by the poor boy's endeavours to fix her attention on cheering subjects. Insensibly he be- came the chief bond of union among them ; for though Mary frequently wreaked her peevishness on him> and Willy resented his discouraging looks when he indulged in bad language among themselves, bis meek endurance disarmed all unfViendly feeling, and the invalid was dearly loved by all.
Matters proceeded thus, without any material change, for some weeks. Occasionally they visited Sarah, whose mind had evidently been awakened to the importance of spiritua-l things, though her know-
292 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
ledge was aa yet very scanty, and her fears strong. About two months after the entrance of the children on their employment in the mills, Sarah's birthday occurred ; and, as it fell on a Satnrday, when they left work earlier than on other days, the widow con Id not refuse the poor girl's earnest request that they would all join in celebrating it. It was the first time the two families had assembled since the Greens had quitted that abode, and great appeared the change produced on some of the party, in the eyes of their common parent. Sarah had been dressed with some care, and of course looked better ; but the chief alte- ration appeared in her countenance, which, from be- ing distressingly vacant, had become animated,' even to restlessness. She seemed to watch for every word that fell, as if it might convey some new information to her mind ; and the dread of her mother, which for- merly kept her silent, was so far diminished as to render her frowns and ill-natured speeches ineffectual to check the girl's occasional remarks. Charles of course encouraged her in the unwonted freedom of talking, to annoy his mother. Willy soon got into a corner with his youngest cousin, and they remained apart from the rest, in noisy mirth, which on Willy's part seemed to increase whenever his grandmother called him to order. Mary had an air of importance about her, that evidently amused Charles, who said many ridiculous things, in a complimentary strain, to increase it ; and the sickliness of James's looks was rendered more conspicuous by the compassionate remarks they drew forth from his aunt.
But nothing struck the widow so much as the ex- traordinary change in Helen's aspect. On their en- trance, she had noticed an encounter of glances be-
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 293
tween ber and Phcebe, marked on the part of the latter by a deg^ree of scornfol, malicioas derision that eoald not escape the notice of the most heedless ]ooker*on ; while Helen's asaal expression of retiring modesty gave place to one strangely foreign from ber natural aspect. On meeting Phoebe's half-opened eyes, her own expanded, and fixed in a gaze, almost a stare of proad and high defiance, ander which the other presently quailed, though the contemptuous eurl of ber lip, as she dropped the long lashes, gave her the aspect of disgust, rather than of conscious guilt. Still Helen flinched not; her eyes were rivet- ted on the downcast face, and she stood erect, the very personification of indignant, haughty disdain. Could it be Helen Fleetwood, — the gentle, retiring maiden, the subdued young Christian, to whom even the aged pilgrim secretly looked up as a pat- tern of that ^' meekness of wisdom ** which she bad prayerfully inculcated, and praisefully marvelled at, as its growth exceeded her most sanguine hopes? The enigma was no less painful than strange ; nor did ber perplexity decrease when Helen, who was generally the last to speak, and whose soft tones fell almost whisperingly on the ear, abruptly turned, without advancing from her position right over against Phoebe, and addressing the poor sick girl, said, in a full, firm voice, ' My dearest Sarah, has the Lord given yon better health since I saw yon last?' ^ Yes, Helen dear, I am really better, thank you.' Helen had again turned to Phoebe, and watched her for a moment after this reply was' given ; then with a half smile, and a slight toss of the bead, she crossed over to the invalid, saluted her afiectionately.
294 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
and in a tone more like her wonted one, bat still much louder than usual, said, ' It is God, not roe, you should thank, dear Sarah, who has brought yoa to »ee this day : and that he may grant yoa many more happy returns of it I heartily beseech him.' She then took off her bonnet, adjusted her hair, and sat down with the same air of independent self-pos- session.
' Dear ! ' said Mrs. Wright, with affected admira- tion, * how soon some people rub off their rust in the mills?'
A suppressed titter from Charles was the only no- tice taken of this ; and his mother resumed, * Mary looks as uppish too as any body : quite a change, I declare.'
' To be sure,' replied Charles, * who would not feel their own respectability, and be proud of it, among such a ragamuffin set as we factory people are ? '
' Pride,' said the widow, ' was not made for man, in any station ; and least of all for humble day-la- bourers like us.'
No answer was given ; and matters went on much as has been described, until Wright's entrance, with some cakes, gave signal for the tea-table to be sur- rounded. A restraint was evident on all the party, except Helen and Sarah, who took and kept the lead in conversation. There seemed to be an understand- ing between them that puzzled the widow, and ex- cessively annoyed Mrs. Wright.
' It's a long while since I had so many ftaends about me on a birth-day,' said Sarah.
' That's false,' retorted her motber ; ' but I dare- say you reckon one new friend as good as two old ones.'
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 295
^ The oldest friend I faaTe, mother, is the newest to me ; and worth a hundred others.'
The party looked at her with astonishment s only three of them understood the fNuradox, and to them it was a source of deep joy. A glance passed be- tween Phoebe and her mother, the purport of which was caoght by Charles, whose face almost blackened with anger as he scowled at them both.
' That Friend,' obaerred Helen, will never leave you nor forsake yon.'
Mrs. Wright's rage here broke forth : ^ Upon my word, yonng woman, this isn't to be borne. You, a beggarly stranger, come here by my mother's means ; and set yourself up to be a better friend to that poor foolish girl than her own flesh and blood ! Such im- pudence '
* It was not of myself I spoke, ma'am,' replied Helen quietly.
' And pray, ma'am, if a body may be so bold as to ask, who was it?'
' Jesus Christ,' answered Sarah.
*' Hold your crazy tongue, yon idiot,' vociferated Mrs. Wright; ' must yon turn canting hypocrite too X *
The widow interposed, for she saw a storm gather- ing in the oonntenanoe of Charles. ' Daughter, that blessed Name speaks only of love, peace, and joy : let it not be made an occasion of strife.'
*' My maxim,' said Wright, < is that there can be no quarrelling except two people agree to it: and I hardly think there are two in this little family party to agree to make poor Sarah's birth-day an uncom- fortable day to her. So now let's have an end of all squabbles.'
Calm was restored; but no change came over
296 HBLEN FLEETWOOD.
Helen. She retained the same air of oonscioas sa- periority, fixing, from time to time, the same fall, andaunted gaze upon Phoebe, and frequently ad- dressing Sarah in terms of fondness. Charles nevor onoe looked at her, neither did Phoebe ; bat every soand of her voice appeared to bring a sly sneer on the girl's face ; which was indeed formed to wear such an expression.
AH this distressed the widow Green. She looked roand upon her children, and in none could she trace any thing wherein to rejoice, save in James and Sarah ; both of whom were evidently fading like summer blossoms. She thought of past scenes : of her little cottage with its plain white walls, the honeysuckle that clustered round the casement ; the song of birds from a neighbouring thicket ; and the bright faces, the dear merry voices within, that bar* monized so sweetly with them. Again, her thoughts reverted to the old churchyard, where her dear Richard was perhaps even then slowly tracing the pathway near bis parents' grave, on the return from a day's healthful labour in bis native fields. She dwelt on the promise of bis character, the hope that in after years he would prove a valuable servant of that Master in whose fear and love she had carefully trained him : and as this bright picture of her mind darkened with the contrast of the reality then before her, tears swelled in her eyes, and her spirit almost breathed the murmuring inquiry, " Hath God for- gotten to be gracious ? "
Helen marked her emotion ; and it was happy for herself that she did. Even the pang which at that moment wrang the widow's bosom was among the '' all things" that worked for good to those afflicted
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 297
children of God. Ob, if it was given to sneh to know the end from the beginning, bow lovely in tbeir eyes woold be tbe most affrigbting of idispensations, seeing tbat eacb is sbaped to promote that end of tbeir faith — the salvation of their seals, tbe meetness that mast be wrought in them for the incorraptible inheritance already prepared ! But the tree of for- bidden knowledge was a tree of spiritaal darkness, ignorance, and sorrow : it opens man's eyes to pre- sent afflictions, hot closes them against the peaceable fruits of righteonsness that spring therefrom, when once he has been made a partaker in the faith and hope of the gospel* '
When the time for speaking of going home had arrived, Helen inquired of Sarah whether she did not wish them to sing before they parted : an assent was given, bat with a flush on the cheek and a look of evident anxiety. Helen waited not any farther en* conragement ; she called the children to her, and at once took the lead in that exquisite hymn,
Jesus, and shall it ever be
A mortal man ashamed of thee !
Often had the solemn strain resounded from the walls of their distant cottage; often had it been carolled on the cliff that overhung their romantic sea-view; and within their antique church it was a favourite selection with Mr. Barlow ; but never had the widow Green heard it breathed in tones so thrilling as those which now issued from the lips of her foster child. The voice of the girl lost none of its sweetness ; but there was a fulness, a depth, a fervency, and a so- lemn pathos added, that struck every hearer as some* thing extraordinary. They sang it throughout ; and
298 HBLBN FLEETWOOD.
io the last verse bat one the feeble voice of Sarah trembliDdfly joined them, gathering strength until the concluding lines
And Oh, may this my portion be — That Saviour not ashamed of me 1
were given with unrestrained energy by six voices, including the widow.
A deep silence followed, which was strangely broken by a forced hysterical laugh from Phoebe, while at the same moment Charles quitted the room, slamming the door violently after him. No notice was taken, and the party soon separated, Helen's last look, ere she passed out, being fixed on Phoebe, who had, however, turned her back immediately after bidding Mrs. Green good night.
James was greatly fatigued ; Willy scarcely able to keep awake through their evening devotions ; and the widow soon found herself alone with Helen, to whom she resolved at once to speak on the subject of her inexplicable conduct: but before she could open it, the girl suddenly sank on her knees, threw her arms round her, and burst into a violent fit of weep- ing. Although trembling with the anticipation of something very distressing, the old woman forbore to check this burst of natural feeling. She pressed poor Helen's head to her shoulder, and allowed her to sob without restraint, until, looking up, she exclaimed, ^ My granny, my own best and only friend, I have added to your troubles by trying to avoid it : forgive me — I would not have concealed any thing from you, only that I knew it would grieve you : but I saw by your looks this evening how sad you felt, and that my behaviour distressed you. I will now tell you all.'
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 299
* Compose yoarself first, my love : yoa have been sadly excited this evening, and that is a thing yen are not used to.'
' Not till I came to the mills, granny : bat now I am indeed used to it. Oh, you donH know,' she added with a fresh burst of tears, ' what it has cost me to keep it all to myself; and already I feel hap- pier since 1 told yon even thus much.'
^ Bat did you not tell it to a better Friend, Helen ? '
' I did indeed : how else could I have held out ? Bat, granny, it is hard to walk by faith, always rest- ing upon what one cannot see, with none upon earth to pity and console us.'
The widow felt that it was; yet wondered that Helen should have deprived herself of the sympathy and counsel so readily at hand in her own home. She waited, however, and the girl, who seemed to have now lost all power of hesitating, proceeded to repeat her tale. To give it in full, as she related it to her maternal friend, would be neither useful nor judicious : but the outline was as follows.
After a course of persecution such as has been al- ready described, a new and most harassing attack upon her feelings commenced, owing to a discovery made by Phoebe, that Sarah was in the habit of sending her messages, and receiving answers on re- ligions subjects. Charles was the bearer of little bits of paper, open, where he had scrawled, at the poor maimed girl's desire, short questions ; in reply to which Helen sometimes had to note down refer- ences to passages of scripture ; and this she did the more readily, because he would have to read them to Sarah. It was done in an open manner, in presence
«^
300 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
of whoever might be at hand, and never without some witnesses : yet from it Phoebe had pretended to draw an inference injurious to Helen's good name; and on this base assumption of her own contriving she openly pointed her out as an unprincipled, pro- fligate character. The insults to which she was now exposed were more trying than any that she had before encountered, and the more so because she could not at first discover their origin. On the pre- ceding day, she had become acquainted with it, and also learned that Sarah was partly aware of the cruel persecution to which her Christian efforts for that poor girl's instruction had exposed her. Astonished and indignant at the wanton wickedness of her slan- derers, Helen had openly demanded from Charles the contradiction which he was bound to give ; but he evaded the subject, and Phoebe loudly declared that if she dared to enter their house that evening, or if, being obliged to go, she opened her lips on any topic connected with religion, or tried to lead Sarah to it, she would directly expose her to the family, and get her driven out, in disgrace, from the home she had intruded into. The young people about them had applauded this ; and told Phoebe if she had spirit to do what she threatened, it must be a benefit some way : for that either Helen's hypocrisy would then be exposed, or else she most leave off pretending to be better than she was. Phoebe pledged herself to carry it out; and promised to bring them a full account of the matter on the fol- lowing Monday.
' So, granny, when we w^nt in this evening,' con-> tinned Helen, * I had this before me, that whichever way it went, I must suffer. I don^t know how it
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 801
was, bat feelings myself to be iQnocent of sach bad conduct as tbey charge me with, and knowing too that Phoebe herself is as wicked as any body, and that all their spite against me is only because I care for the seal of that poor dear dying girl, I felt some- thing come over me that I am afraid was pride. I did not fear Phoebe, nor any one else ; I wished her to see that I did not, and I almost desired her to do the worst she could against me, because I was sure God would not suffer such wicked oess to triumph. I also wanted to shew poor Sarah that they had nei- ther frightened nor shamed me ; but I saw you ob- served me ; and when you looked so sad at tea, and the tears came into your eyes, it struck me that you might suspect something wrong, and be fretting about me. So I resolved to tell you all* And now don't fear; for though God knows my simpleness and my faults are not hid from him, he also knows that I have not given occasion for this : he will make my righteousness as clear as light, and my just deal- ing as the noon-day. And oh, what a blessed thought it is that while they revile me and persecute me, and say all manner of evil against me, falsely, it is for the Lord's sake, because I am trying to do his work, in bringing a poor wounded, straying lamb to the bosom of the good Shepherd ! '
The widow answered tenderly and soothingly, con- firming this trust in the Lord, and wisely deferring to a calmer moment the cautions that she saw were needed. She was confounded at the discovery of such heartless depravity on the part of her own grand-children, and fully aware of the peril in which Helen was placed ; she was also startled at disco- vering in the girl's character strong traits of high
302 HELEK FLEETWOOD.
spirit and enthosiastic feeling^ where all had ap- peared so qaiet, so humble, almost too timid and shrinking^ for the necessary conflicts of life ; and she felt the need of a doable portion of the wisdom which Cometh from above, to direct her in the diffi- cult task of counselling one so circomstanced. Her mind was in one sense greatly relicTcd by the coni- dence of her adopted child, thas restored to her; but many and sharp were the thorns of perplexity this night added to those which had long strewn her pillow.
The following day brought her farther acquainted with the extent of the factory evils ; for on her tell- ing Helen that if the persecution continued she would make an appeal to the justice and humanity of the managers, the latter replied that it was useless so to do; since in any thing which did not concern the interests of the mill they would never interfere. ' But,' returned the widow, ' the interests of the mill are nearly concerned in this ; for how can they ex- pect such a set of immoral, unprincipled young people to do their duty by their employers? They must surely be idle ; .and not to be trusted for a moment when the master's eye is off them.'
Helen shook her head : ' If it was to depend on ourseWes and each other, granny, we might be idle : but you forget we have to work along with the maehi- nery. That is never idle ; it goes on, on, on, and we must keep pace with it. Our fingers are employed and our feet too ; but our tongues are free, and all the mischief that bad tongnes, prompted by evil hearts, can do, is carried on, to the ruin of the work people, but not to the hindrance of the work. All that the overlookers care for is to see every body
HELEK FLBEtWOOD. 303
feeding the engines, or drawing out the cotton, wind- ing, piecening, and all the rest of the basinesa. And
beiides' she hesitated, looked more distressed,
and then added, * You are greatly mistaken if yoa think the men who overlook oar work care for our morals — they themselves are often among the worst of the bad/
* Is it possible?' asked the widow, while a chill of horror crept over her.
' In OUT mill it is so, as I know right welL' ' Then, Helen, I will remove you from it.* ^I am afraid, granny, that would be useless. I thought about it often myself; but there is so much acquaintance among the work-people through the town that a bad report of me raised in one mill would follow me to another, and I should only have the same battle to fight over again, with the disadvan- tage of having been driven out of my first place. No, let me stand my ground, and strive by well doing to put to silence the ignorance of foolish peo- ple : for indeed ignorance is the root of it all. Poor things! they have not been taught their duty, and how should they know it? »What do Phoebe and Charles ever hear at home*, to strengthen them against the bad examples that they have been exposed to ever since they were mere babes ? and yet theirs is a respectable home, and they don't go back, like many others, to find their parents drunk and fighting ; and though Mr. Wright does not look after them as he might do, still I cannot think he would allow them to go to the gin shop if he knew of it.' < The gin shop!' *Yes; they all drink, particularly Johnny, and
304 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
that is what makes him so stupid, for his work is not very hard/
^ Oh, what have I done,' groaned the widow, ' in bringing yon here ! '
' Perhaps it is for good, dearest granny ; indeed I am sore of that, with respect to poor Sarah ; and who can tell what others may be the better for it 1 '
* Blessings on yon, my Helen, for the comfort yoa give me — yon, who might well reproach and apbraid me. Bat how, my poor child, will yoa meet these cruel people to-morrow ? '
^ In the strength of a good conscience, and trusting that as I am not ashamed to confess the Lord before men, he will not be ashamed of me/
* But be very watchful, love, over your own heart: spiritual pride sometimes springs up very unexpect- edly, where worldly pride has been cut down ; and the deceitfulness of our nature helps to keep us igno- rant that it is as bad a weed as the other/
' I never had much worldly pride, had I, granny? except indeed the pride of a good name, which I did not know the value of in my own sight till— till,' she sobbed, ' till they took it from me.'
* No, Helen, they have dot taken it from you, nor ever shall,' replied the widow with rising indigna- tion. ' We live in happy England, where the laws are made for poor as well as for rich ; and one of those laws protects an honest person's good name against slander. But we will not talk of that now: let us rather seek for direction in the word of God ; and depend upon it matters are not so bad even in the factories, that I should not see yon righted if this goes on.'
Helen sighed : she somehow felt that for her there
H9LBN FLBBTWOOD. 305
was DO help in mao ; but she said nothing to dis- courage her more sangaine friend.
Meanwhile, the widow Green secretly resoUed to act at once upon what she had discovered ; and to obtain for the innocent girl that protection which she was very sare no man with ap English heart in his bosom coald withhold, when made acqnainted with the circumstances.
Did she calculate rightly ? We shall see.
What have we to do with the world, or the world with us? The world is out of Christ, and we are in Him ; the world is " afar off," and we are '* made nigh ; ** the word is without^ and we are within ; the world is alienated, and we are joined ; the world is at one point of the compass, and we are at the other. What then, I asL ye, have we to do with the world, or the world with us? — Rev* F* Elwin.
April, 1840.
303
ESSAY ON THE TRANSFIGURATION.
BY THE REV. DANIEL BAGOT, B.D., OF EDINBURGH.
III.— The Witnesses.
The next circumstance connected with the narrative of the transfiguration which demands our attention, is the mention made by the Evangelist of the persons whom Jesus brought with him to witness the splendid solemnities of that event. The time, the place, the spectators, were all specially selected; for infinite wisdom never acts unadvisedly. The minutest de- tails, as well as the grand and important outlines of the proceedings of God, are all adjusted and planned by the same unerring and omniscient mind. The persons whom Jesus is said to have taken with him. on this occasion were Peter, James, and John. These three disciples were, at several times, chosen by our blessed Lord to be witnesses of important scenes in his earthly history. They alone were permitted to be present at the raising of the ruler's daughter to life. They were subsequently chosen to accompany Jesus into the solemn retirement of the garden, in which he made his soul an offering for sin, and in which he drank to its last dregs the bitter cup of mental agony which the unbending justice of his heavenly Father
THB TRANSFIGURATION. 307
had placed in his hands. And here we find that the same apostles were the privileged and highly-ho- nonred spectators of the Saviour's glory on the sum- mit of Tabor.
We may be able, by a little reflection, to ascertaiil some probable reasons for tbe'selection of these three disciples. It was necessary to have a competent number of witnesses to the Saviour's transfiguration, who might afterwards record the circumstances of that event for the instruction of the church, and who could give their testimony in the distinct and unequi- Yocal manner in which St. Peter does when he says, " We were eye-witnesses of his majesty." The whole church could not possibly have been permitted to see either the sufferings or the glory of '* God manifest in the flesh." This would have interfered with the nature of faith, and have placed the gospel altogether on another foundation. We know, by faith in the apostolic record, that Jesus lived and suffered, and it is enough for us to be assured that this record is well corroborated. We believe, likewise, upon the tes- timony of a sufficient number of witnesses, that Jesus was transfigured, and we then come under the special benediction of the Saviour, '* blessed are they who have not seen, and yet have belle ved.^' *
But the Lord, who searcheth the hearts of his peo- ple, and knows what is in man, may have considered that some peculiar training was necessary for these three apostles. The dispositions of Peter and John were very different from those of the rest. There was an aspiring ardour and an adventurous impetuosity in the character of Peter, which required to be calmed down into a steady and determined zeal, and this
could best be effected by such discipline as would
X a
308 THB TRANSFIGURATION*
freqaently remind him of the weakness of his mortal naturey and of the great contrast which existed be- tween himself and his Redeemer* There was a soft, affectionate, and retiring cast of character in Jofaii> which required that he should be encouraged by views of his master's glory. Our blessed Redeemer suits the dispensations of his grace to the peculiar dispositions of his people. We have to deal with a Saviour who is perfectly acquainted with all oor weaknesses and wants, with a physician who tiio* roughly understands our spiritual constitution. Hence we may account for the varieties of experience whieh are so often seen in different ChristiaDS, and at dif- ferent periods of the same Christian's history. They are but the modifications and changes of discipline employed by the Saviour to suit their several chhrac'- ters and circumstances.
We remark, further, that Peter, James, and John might have been selected on this occasion, as well as on others, in order to prepare them for tlie prominent and conspicuous positions which they were after- wards to occupy in the history of the church. It is said of Peter and John, in the second chapter of the Epistle to the Galatians, that they seemed to be pil- lars ; and, without doubt, there was some kind of priority conferred upon these two apostles. We are far from wishing to give any countenance to the ex- travagant opinions of the church of Rome in reference to the supremacy of the apostle Peter, but we should be careful not to go to the other extreme, and deny his precedency in every sense of the word. For con- venience, and to prevent confusion, some of the apos- tles must have taken the lead, for a church without order is like a family without discipline or regularity,
THE TRANSFIGURATION. 809
or an army ivithimt commanders. Peter W9is foreman of the apostotic jfiiry ; he was specially the apostle of the oircnmoision ; he was the high}y-honoared io- stmment of effecting^ the conversion of three thou- sand on the day of Pentecost ; and beeanse to him were entrusted the keys of the kingdom of heaven, he was specially sent for to Joppa, in order to intro- duce the Gentile Cornelius into the church of Christ : and Saba was destined to be employed by the Holy S|Mrit to compose a narrative of the Saviour's life, to write three epistles for the consolation of the church, and to transcribe with a prophetic pen the revelation of the future glory of his exalted Saviour, which he was privileged to see in the isle of Patmos. The more, therefore, that Peter witnessed the transcen- daiBt excellency of his master, the more decision, oourage, and perseverance would he manifest, for these qualities are always the result of well-grounded eonvietion : and the more that John beheld of the greatness, and the su fieri ligs, and the love of his divine Redeemer, the more of that love could he im- bibe and infuse into bis writings, the more distinctly could be describe his solTerings, and the more deci- sive testimony eould he bear to bis majesty and power. As to James, it is uncertain whether he was the author of the epistle which bears his name, or whether it was composed by James, the son of Cleo- pasi but of this it is certain that an honour awaited him which has never been conferred upon an angel, for he was the first of the apostles who wrote his tes- timony in bis own blood, and died as si martyr in the cause of Christ. About eleven years after the tri- umphaBt ascensioD of his Saviour, he Ml a sacrifice to the inveterate hostility of Herod. Thus he, who
310 THE TRANSFIGURATION.
Has afterwards singled oat by Satan to be the first apostolic victim to his enmity against the Savioar, is here selected by Jesus to be fortified for bis approach- ing death by witnessing his Saviour's glory. What a pledge we have here that our compassionate Re- deemer, who foresees the sufferings and trials of his people, will always prepare them for enduring them I ' It may likewise have been the Saviour's object to shew that as all his disciples are distinguished- above the world, so some of his disciples are distinguished above others. The Lord advances his people to whatever position of honour or of privilege it OMty seem fit to him. Let there, then, be no spirit of rivalry or of carnal competition, no manifestations of jea- lousy amongst the servants of Christ, or the members of his church. Are all Luthers? Are all Melane- thons? Are all apostles? Are all prophets ? ^' There are diversities of gifts, but the same spirit. And there are differences of administrations, bat the same Lord. And there are diversities of operations, but it is the same God which worketh all in all. But the manifestation of the Spirit is given to every man to profit withal.'' We should ever recollect that pecu- liar distinctions are frequently intended to prepare for some peculiar post of danger. Special privileges often expose the believer to the more special assaults of Satan. Thus the great adversary of man singled out Peter as the object of his attack, for so our Lord informed him — '* Satan hath desired to have thee, that he might sift thee as wheat." Having failed in bis attempts against Jesus himself, be directed - them against Peter as the next best prize. Some persons in the church hav'e been recently laying claim to the miraculous distinctions of the apostolic age; bat had
THE TRANSFIGURATION. 311
they reflected to what danger tbeysboald be exposed, were the high gifts and privileges of the primitive charch conferred upon them in their present condi- tion, they would rather seek after that charity with- oat which, no matter how eminent and surprizing their gifts might be, they would be no better than sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. For gifts are no security against the temptations of Satan, but rather attract them, It is only when we are strength- ened with might by the Spirit in the inner man, and when the love of Christ is shed abroad in our hearts, and when we are stedfast in the faith and armed with the whole armour of God, that we can *' smile at Satan's rage and face a frowning world*''
But, further, our blessed Lord may have intended to give a practical lesson upon the weakness of hu- man nature, to ail the disciples ; as well to those who were left behind, as to those who were the chosen spectators of his glory. In reference to the former, we find that during the absence of Jesus, they gave such signal evidence of their unbelief, in not being able to heal a demoniac by the exercise of that power which the Saviour had conferred upon them, that he was obliged, on his return, to address them in the language of strong rebuke — " O faithless and perverse generation, how long shall I be with you ? how long shall I suffer you ? ** The other three likewise learned, by their experience on the moun- tain, how much of infirmity is associated with the earthly condition of the believer, even under the most favourable circumstances. Thus it appears that the Christian may display the ignorance, and sinful- ness, and weakness of his nature, as much in the presence as in the absence of his Saviour. Christ
312 THE TRANSFIGURATION.
mast not merely dwell witli us, but in us, in order that we may feel his strength perfected in weakness, and may be more than conquerors through him that loved as.
The Saviour may also have brought the three apostles with him to the holy mount, in order to shew the impossibility of our participating in the enjoy- ments of glory in oar present bodies. For Peter, James, and John, were only spectators : they were not admitted within that sacred circle which was consecrated by the bright and transcendaat majesty of their incarnate God* Flesh and blood cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven. We have neither senses to discern, nor faculties to comprehend, in our present condition, the unearthly realities of the eternal state. The bodies of our humiliation must be changed into a likeness to the body of our exalted Saviour, this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality, before we can gaze with an unblinking eye upon the daxzLing splendour of Emmanuel's throne, or the surpassing glory of EmmanoeFs person !
We should learn, from this part of the subject, to feel completely satisfied with whaterer discipline the Lord may be employing in reference to ourselves, to leave the work of our salvation in his hands, and to recognize him as the Author and Finish^ of our faith. Whether he shall bring us up into the high mountain of spiritual enjoyment, or leave us to walk in the dark valley of sorrow and dutreas, his objeet in both cases is the same, even the advaaoement of our best interests ; and however diversified may be our present experience, it shall all issue in one mag- nificent consummation, in the everlasting enjoyment
THE TRANSFIGURATION. 313
of the smiles of his countenance, in whose presence is fnlness of joy, and at whose right hand there are pleasures for evermore.
IV,— The Glory.
And was transfigrored before them, and his face did shine as the sub, and his raiment was white as the light.
There never existed in this world a person in whose life there was a greater variety of incident than in the life of Jesus. He passed through scenes of the most peculiar and diversified description, to which we can find no parallel in the history of man, the effect of which no ordinary mind could have borne. These were, in general, connected with that lowliness and debasement to which he submitted for the benefit of our sinful race ; but occasionally, as at his birth, his baptism, and transfiguration, there burst forth some bright rays of glory from behind the dark cloud of his humanity, which proved his pos- session of a nature that was divine.
It may have a good effect in strengthening our g^titode for thjB Saviour's mercy, to remember that every complexion of circumstance was freely and voluntarily submitted to, not merely for his own satisfiftction or benefit, but principally for the good of man. Jesus never lost sight of his representative character. He always remembered those whose cause he had espoused: and li'hether he was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil, or into the garden of Gethsemane, to sustain his more fierce and violent assaults, or to the mountain, to put on for a season the habiliments of light and glory > his
314 THE transfiguration;
chief object and desire was to effect the redemptton, and to revive the hopes of weak and fallen man.
We are now supplied by the Holy Spirit with a very brief account of the transfiguration itself. Be- fore, however, we make any remark apon this de- scription, or refer, as we desire to do, to the uses which this transaction was intended to servCy we must direct our attention for a few moments to the important preparation which the Saviour made for it. And here there are, perhaps, many who may be disposed to ask, Had there not been sufficient pre- paration already? Had not the Saviour endured much physical fatigue in accomplishing the weari- some ascent of the mountain? and had not the time, the place, and the spectators been carefully selected by himself? Let it however be remembered that in addition to all this, there was a necessary and abso- lutely indispensable preliminary, not to be omitted even by the Son of God, and that was Prayer. It is said, by St. Luke, in the twenty-ninth Terse of hi« ninth chapter, that '* as he prayed, the fashion of bis countenance was altered, and his raiment was white and glistering." Let us learn from this that not all the labour, mental or physical, which we can pos- sibly exert, can ever bring us into the enjoyment of one momentary smile of God's countenance, if we neglect prayer. We may diligently peruse the re- cords of redeeming mercy which the sacred page of scripture contains ; we may place ourselves under the pastoral care of some faithful and devoted min- ister of Jesus ; we may enjoy the high advantage of intercourse and communion with many spiritually- minded followers of the Saviour ; yet, after all, we shall find no benefit from these distinguished privi«
THE TRANSFIGURATIOK. 315
leges if we neglect to pray. How many Christians there are who often wish they had a Lather for their minister, becaase they feel dissatisfied with their spiritaal progress nnder him to whose charge they bave been entrusted by perhaps the great Head of the church : and yet the cause of this may be traced to their own want of constant and of earnest prayer. How many bave gone from place to place, and even travelled as far as Switzerland, to hear a Malan speak in sweet simplicity of the love of God, and yet have felt no benefit, becaase they did not pray. It is an- questionably the daty of every Christian to select a faithful minister, who preaches Jesas in all his ful- ness as the sinner's friend ; and those who do not are gailty of the most awful saicide : yet the most emi- nent and zealous ministry that ever graced a church could never bring one sinner near to God, nor in- crease the spirituality of a single believer, without prayer. Prayer is the key that unlocks the holy place where Jesus meets his people at the mercy- seat, to dispense the gifts which have been purchased by his precious blood. And When the united peti- tions of ministers and people ascend in an unceas- ing stream of sacred incense to a throne of grace, blessings may be expected to descend in rich abun- dance on the church.
But perhaps it may be considered that we have digressed from our subject. We return then to the circumstance which more immediately claims our attention. We are informed that Jesus was praying when he was transfigured ; nay it is remarkable that St Luke represents his special object of ascending the mountain to have been in order to devote himself to this sacred engagement. *^ It came to pass about
316 THE TRANSFIGURATION.
an eight days after these sayings, he took Peter, and John, and James, and went up into a moontain to pray/' Prayer was as mach the Saviour's daty, as it is the daty of any of his people. He has heen expressly commanded by his Father to ask of him to give him the heathen for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for his possession. All his works, whilst he was tabernacling in the flesh, were accom- panied with prayer; and his present exaltation at the right hand of his Heavenly Father, instead of suspending, rather imparts a more sublime intensity of fervour to his petitions. In vain had he shed his blood without this ; for his prayers are as essential for the salvation of sinners, as his sufferings on the cross for their redemption; and therefore the apostle, in the twenty-fifth verse of the seventh chapter of the epistle to the Hebrews, connects the unlimited ability of Jesus to save,- not only with his having offered himself as a sacrifice, but also with his ever living to make intercession for us. Oh ! how welcome and delightful must be the accents of supplication to the ears of the Lord God of Sabaoth, when he withholds blessings, even from his well-beloved Son until He ask for them ! And how necessary is prayer, when Jesus cannot obtain blessings without it ! There is a reserve manifested by the Holy Spirit in this, as in other instances, as to the contents of our Saviour's petitions. Most probably they bad some reference to that splendid scene in his earthly history, into which he was about to enter. We may imagine him to have addressed his heavenly Father in language somewhat similar to that which he employed when he was about to devote bimself as a spotless victim on the cross. ''Father, the hour is come; glorify
THE TRANSFIGURATION. 317
thy Son, that thy Sob also may glorify thee. Father, I will that they alao whom thoa hast given me, be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory which thoa hast given me : for thou lovedst me before the foundation of die world/'
But we must pass on to the description which is given of the transfiguration of Jesus. ** His face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light.'' On this we can say but little, for no ima- * gination can conceive, nor can words express the exact nature of that splendid scene which is here so slightly glanced at. The Holy Spirit has employed the most concise mode of description in order to re^ strain our fancy within proper limits. We are, there- fore, altogether incompetent to expatiate on a subject so sublime, for we know nothing, beyond wh^t is written, of the glory which is associated with spiri- tual bodies. When Paul was led to speak of a state of future, enjoyment, he could only express himself in the language of conjecture, and say, ** I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us." And when, on another occasion, he was anxious to comfort the church by a description of the resurrection- body into which the Saviour shall change the vile bodies of his people, be could only describe it by the use of words, which merely implied a direct contrast between what we now are and what we shall be. Our present bodies are earthly, natu- ral, mortal, and corruptible; our resurrection bodies shall be celestial, spiritual, immortal, incorruptible ; but these latter expressions are only negations of the former ; as to any positive apprehension of the nature of glorified bodies, *' it doth not yet appear what we
318 THE TRANSFIGURATION.
shall he/' And there is much wisdom in this reserve: there is enough told us upon the subject to encourage us to persevere in our endeavours to attain to the joy that is set before us, but not as much as would, in the mean time, render us too much discontented with our present state.
We must, however, carefully note that the Holy Spirit, in so far describing the Saviour's transfigura-
* tion, has given a literal account of a real transaction. There is no cunningiy-devised fable here. There was nothing visionary in the scene itself: there is no- thing fanciful in the description of it. Jesus was actually metamorphosed; ''his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light,'' and as on all ordinary occasions in the days of his flesh, he was God manifest in the nature of man, so, during
'the continuance of this splendid scene, he exhibited his human nature manifested in, and encompassed by the brightness and glory of his Godhead.
But it may be profitable to inquire into some of the uses of this great transaction, for such an occur- rence could not have taken place without some im- portant object. It was intended to- prepare the Saviour for his approaching sufferings ; to shew the interest which heaven took in his sacrifice ; to be a source of strength and comfort to the church, by giving a type and specimen of that high degree of glory to which the nature of man is destined to be exalted, in consequence of the Saviour's dying love. But the leading object of this event was to give a representation of his second coming in majesty at the last day. It is not by any gratuitous assumption that we maintain this, but on the sure ground of strong scriptural testimony. We find St. Matthew
THE TRANSFIGURATION. 319
representing the Saviour as promising some of his disciples that they shoald not taste of death till they saw him ** coming in hiskingdom ;" and in the parallel passage in the ninth chapter of St. Mark, he is re- presented as saying that there were some standing with him who shoald not see death nntil they had seen the kingdom of God '* come with power ; " now the apostle Peter combiDes the substance of these two declarations, in a manner which distinctly shews that he considered them as having a reference to the future advent of the Redeemer, '* we have not fol- lowed cunningly-devised fables when we made known unto you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ," and he speaks of *' majesty," *' honor,'' and *' glory," which are the appendages of royalty, and are to be the characteristics of the second advent of Jesus, in contrast with the meanness, poverty and degradation of his first appearance in our world. Those, therefore, who say that the transfiguration had a typical reference either to the efl'usion of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost, or to the destruction of Jerusalem, are greatly in error. It was meant to be a specimen and earnest of our Lord's appearance hereafter in glory, when he shall come to be admired in all them that believe, and to establish his ever- lasting kingdom of righteousness and peace in the earth. The. use of a type is to arrest and embody in a kind of visible indication the prominent features of its antitype ; and, accordingly, if we examine . the leading circumstances .of the transfiguration, we shall find such a resemblance between it and the second coming of the Saviour, as will clearly establish such a relationship between these two events. Jesus ap- peared in literal human nature on the mountain ; so
320 THE TRANSFIGURATION.
shall he come again, as the Son of man, possessing the same nature with his people; for the apostles were informed when he ascended, that the very same Jesas who had been taken up from them into heaven, should even so eome in like manner as they had seen him ascend into heaven. He appeared in glory, and not in humility ; such as be shall descend hereafter, when be shall come with all bis holy angels and sit upon the throne of his glory. As he was visible on the mountain, so when he shall appear again, every eye shall see biro, and they also which pierced him ; and all kindreds of the earth shall wail because of him. As he was encompassed by a cloud on the summit of Tabor, so shall he come hereafter in the clouds of heaven, with power and great glory. As be stood in majesty upon the mountain, so according to the declaration of the prophet, his feet shall stand, when he comes again, upon the Mount of Olives. And as Moses and Elias appeared in glory with the Saviour, so shall he bring his people with him on his return to our world, for when Christ who is our life shall appear, then shall we also appear with him in glory.
Such we believe to have been the great primary object of this interesting event. How full of conso- lation atad encouragement must it appear in this im- portant view, to every believer who is stiH'straggling with the infirmities and trials of his earthly pilgri- mage. It directs the attention of such to the crown of righteousness that awaits him, and says, '* Be ye stedfast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord; forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.''
(To be continued,)
321
NO SURRENDER.
When Deny closed her far-fam'd gates, Goarded by many a brave defender,
Tboagh treason, famine, sword combin'd, Her banner floated, — No Surrender.
The world, the flesh, the devil leagae. And broods of deadly foes engender ;
Closed be the heart, the eye, the ear. Your daily watchword, — No Surrender.
Temptation drugs her baneful cup. With all the charms which art can lend her,
Ambition, beauty, wealth, renown
The antidote be — No Surrender.
Should sin approach in pleasure's garb, Unmask at once the base pretender ;
The serpent lurks amid the flowers : Your only safeguard — No Surrender.
When vice conceives, she brings forth dearth, Remorse, disease and shame attend her.
Her downward path inclines to hell — Oh I raise the war-cry, — No Surrender.
Yirtoe walks on, pure, undefird.
All things on earth, in heaven befriend her ; The palm, the robe, the crown, the throne,—
These are thy trophies, — No Surrender.
L. K.
ArmiL, 1840. Y
322
ON " THE OBLATION " IN THE LORD'S
SUPPEB.
Madam — I sometimes see yoar little periodical, the Christian Lady's Magazine, and I have frequently been much pleased with the good feeling and Chris- tian earnestness displayed in its pages. I have just read the numher for this month, and am sorry to say that the feelings with which I have risen from its perusal are not those of universal satisfaction.
You are yourself. Madam, so eloquent and power- fal an advocate in the cause of plain speaking, espe- cially in the case of the clergy, upon whom you con- tinually urge the duty of ' earnestly contending for the faith ; ' and you so habitually practise, in your own writings, what you enforce upon others, that I feel the less delicacy in offering you the following observa- tions.
I am, myself, a clergyman, and therefore conceive that I shall not outstep the duties of my office, if I endeavour to correct a mis-statement which, through the medium of your Magazine, has been circulated amongst your numerous female readers, and, doubt- less, believed by them on the strength of your asser- tion.
The mis-statement to which I allude, occurs in the paper entitled the Protestant, in which you affirm that certain ' gentlemen ' whom you call ^ Pqseyites/ when they speak of * the oblation in the Lord's Sap- per/ intend thereby the offering up to God of the
(ON ** THE OBLATION." 323
consecrated bread and wine, as symbolical of the body and blood of Christ. Having first assumed that these are their opinions, yon draw from the as- sumption the following conclusion, that the Lord's Supper, as they represent it, is Uhe Popish Mass complete,' with this single exception, that ' it is not recognized on the part of the people by an act of prostrate worship,' and then in a tone of lamentation you exclaim, ' It is an awful spectacle to behold the deadliest errors of Popery thus creeping back.'
It is a most unpleasant thing to contradict any one who IS so earnest in endeavouring to promote the cause of religion as you are ; and the circumstance of your sex. Madam, renders it far more unpleasant and foreign to my feelings than it otherwise would have been ; but, if St. Paul was justified in withstanding a brother apostle to the face, I trust that a humble minister of Christ may venture to contradict a ' Chris- tian Lady,' even though her zeal were that of ' the very chiefest apostles.'
You need not be alarmed lest you should be read- ing the effusions of a ' Puseyite.' I am not a ' Pu- seyite,' neither am I a ' Simeonite,' nor a ' Calvinist,' nor an * Arminian,' no, nor even a Paulist, nor an ApollositCy nor a CephasUe* I recognize 'no party in the church, nor do I suppose that any party would recognize me. It is my simple desire to be a dutiful and humble son of my mother, the church of England, in whose communion I was baptized,, and in whose bosom I hope to live and die ; and I am quite con- tent to be guided by her exposition of God's word, wherever she has authoritatively decided on it, be- cause I feel convinced, on deliberate investigation
and mature reflection, that her system of interpreta-
Y a
8^4 ON "THE OBLATION.*'
tion is derived from a source tiiat cannot err, and that (in a manner which distinpaiabes her from every other exUting Christian «ommanity) she has soaght and discovered 'the mind of the Spirit* on ail the great and fandamental troths* »
Too are mistaken, Madam, in your view of what is Intended hy many members of the charoh, when they speak of ' the oblation ' in the Lord's Sapper. I will endeavour to explain what their meaning reaUy is.
When oar blessed and ever-adorable Savioor and Lord God institated the most holy sacrament of his supper, His command was, after taking the bread into his sacred hands, and breaking it and distributing it among his disciples, *<This do^ in remembrance of me'* And after taking the cup, and delivering it to then, " This do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me." From these words the church has always deemed it most essential, that in the celebration of this sacrament, every thing which Christ himself did at the time of institution, should be oarefdlly and most solemnly and scr^ipulously repeated. And it is on this account that in the Prayer of Consecration, the priest is bound to ' take bread,' and * break ' it, and also to take the cup into his hands, at the same time pronouncing the selfsame words which were uttered by our great High Priest himself.
But the first thing which He is recorded to have done, after taking the elements into his hands, was to " give thanks" to God. After his example the ancient disciples, in their *' breaking of bread," always first oflered up the bread and wine to God, to acknowledge him to be the Lord and Givef of all things, and to praise him as the Creator of the fruits of the earth, believing that in so doing, they were
ON <^THB OBLATION." 385
toutatiog this Bacharistic action of oar Saviour. Joseph Mede, ia discoorsing on this very sobject, brings forward the testimonies of Justin Martyr and Irensens. Let us see what they say ; (but remember that I do not produce them as possessing in themselves any authority to decide the question, but simply as faistorioal witnesses to the prevalence of the opinion in the age succeeding that of the apostles.) Justin Martyr, in his dialogues with Trypho, says, ' That the sacrifices of Christians are supplications and eucharisii (giving of thanks) ; and that these are the only sacrifices which Christians have been taught to perform in that thankful remembrance of their food both dry and liquid,' (alluding to the thank-offering in the Lord's Supper.) Irenseus says, (Book iv. ch. 32.) ' Our Lord, counselling his disciples to offer unto God the first-fruits of his creatures, not for that God hath any need thereof, but that they might shew themselves neither unfruitful nor unthankful. He took the bread which was made of his creature, and gave thanks, saying, ^* This is my body ; *' and he likewise acknowledged the cup, consisting of the creature which we use, to be his blood, and thus taught the new oblation of the New Testament, which the church, receiving from the apostles, offers through- out the world unto God, that feeds and nourishes us, being the first-fruits of his own gifts/ '
They moreover made use of this very oblation, as a means of refuting the Gnostic heresies, whose pe- culiar and prominent error was, that matter was es- sentially vile, and that the material creation must therefore be the production not of God Almighty, but of the evil spirit, his rival* And the substance of their aivnoieDt is this—* If you heretics offer up mate-
326 ON "THB OBLATION."
rial bread and wioe^ as a thank Kifferiog to God the Faibdr, tben sorely^ in so doin^, you yirtaally ae* knowledge him (contrary to yoar professed heretical opinions) to be Lend and Maker of the oreatnie/ . Indepeiideiilly of the testimony of the ancients, we have the analogy of tiie passover, from which there is eyery reas(m to snppofle onr blessed Lord thought fit to derive this sacrament, jast as he derived faia Other sacrament from the baptisms common amoni: the Jews of his day.
•Bat the bread and wine used in the passover were always solemnly offered np to God with a thanks* giving, in which God was praised as King of the world, and Creator of the fruits of the earth.
Now it is this ' oblation,' Madam, and not an oh- lation of the consecrated elements, as symbolical of the Lord's body and blood, which churchmen geoer* ally mean, when they use this word, and which, I doubt not, the individuals whom yon call Poseyites also mean. I acknowledge that the church of Eng- land does not recognize this act of oblation in words (unless, as some suppose, the term ' oblation,^ in the Prayer for the Church Militant, bear that significa- tion); and it must be confessed, that in this our Liturgy undeniably differs from that of the very ear- liest churches; but she does recognize it in deedt though not in words* The Rubric which precedes the said prayer, expressly orders the officiating min- ister to place, at that time, on the table, the requisite bread and wine with his own hands, thereby tacitly acknowledging that it is a religious act, an offering or oblation to God, and therefore not to be performed by the hands of any but the minister.
But if this be the case, a question arises, Where
OS <*THB oblation/' 827
should the bread and wine be previoosly placed ? I have alnrays fek it to be a serious defeet in theforni** tnre of our obarohes that there is no piaoa for its reception previons to oblation, and I should gladly •bey an order from any superior, comttanding me to ereot a second table for that purpose, aHhoug^ I o&p^ tainly shoaJd not feel jostiied to take upon myself the responsibility' of such an innovation. My own practice is, to have the bread and wine kept in the Vestry (which is near to the Lord's table) until the alms of the people have been presented, and then they are brought to me by the clerk, and I place them on the holy table, not, I confess, without a silent prayer that God would accept them as our tiMink-offering to him. And this view of the oblation is, to my mind, exeeedingly delightful. It is an act of worship which forms a connecting link between our own and tbe previons dispensations. When, in the days of tiie patriarchal dispensation, the Father of the faithful met Melchisedec, we read that '* tbe priest of the most high God '* blessed Abraham, and ** brought forth bread and wine,^ doubtless as an act of religious worship. Again, under the Mosaic dispensation. What were *' the meat-offering and drink-offering?" The one was a tenth deal of flour mingled with the fourth part of an bin of beaten oil, and the other ** an bin of wine," and the two were always united. Thus from the earliest ages of tbe world until the second coming of the Lord at the close of the present dispensation, one simple and significant ceremony, via. the offering up of bread and wine to God, as a thank<K>ffering for bis crea- tures, and a recognition of his sovereignty j has formed part of the solemn service of his people.
3BS ON '^ TUB OBIiATtON.''
' J bopef Madtm, tbat hy tki» time jnm will be ready im ftdmiif that there is nothiag so awfiilly Fopisb iir haariiig a secottd table ' wttbia the altar rails/ and that '' the oblation *' does not of neoesBit j •eonvert tba sRorament o£ the Lawd^s sapper into that idalalroiis OMWUnery* the Popish aiass, which, profossing to foaF tlMK sopper which the iLord hath commanded to be reeeivedy is a perverse and rebellions act of wUl^^ worship, in which tke tradition of man is foliow«lf and the institution of tke Smiiovr disregarded ; ia whioh an unbroken wafer is sabstilated for tke broken bread,-»in which " the cap of Messing " is withhdd from the people, and in which the consecrated ele-> ments are idolatroasly exhibited as objects of pro- found adoration.
I have already wearied yoa to death, bat I eannot conclude without observing that there are persons (and I confess myself one) who think that when St. Paul says that in celebrating the communion, we '' show the Lord's death till he come,'' he does not merely mean that we shew it to men, but that we also *' shew " or represent it to God, or in other words, that as an individual pleads the death and passion of his Redeemer before God in prayer, and (if I may say so) reminds his heavenly Father of the atonement thereby made for his transgressions ; so the church, in- her collective capacity, pleads the same atone- ment, not merely in public prayer, bat by actual cMit- memorationf by breaking bread in remembrance of his broken body and in pouring oat wine in remem- brance of his blood-shedding; and this memorial, this exhibition before God ( tn the act of consecration) of the appointed symbols of his Son's body and blood» has been termed *^ oblation ; " but this, I am per*
OK ^*THB oblation/' S^9'
samAeAf is net the naval meaoiag of the term, when applied to the Lord's supper, and it oertainly is not its meatkiDf^ in the passage on which yo« have oem>« meatod so seYeffely.
What alsO) permit me to ask» do you mean by- saying that these persons dain the power to pentorm the miraoleof transforming the sacramental bread and wiBe tato the body and blood of Christ? Do yea reklly hdieve that they mean to maintain the doctrine of transabstantiation ? If they do, so (at least in y-oor opinion) oHist the ohorch who (to cite one instance oat of many) teaches that '^the body and blood of Christ are verily and indeed taken and received by the faith fol in the Lord's supper.''
Hoping that yon will excuse this tiresome, bat
well-meant letter, I beg leave to sabscribe myself,
Madam,
With the most unfeigned respect,
Your obedient servant,
William John Edgb. Feb. 4, 1840.
WM$in^field Rociwry^ Woodbridge.
[Wb have given insertion to the above letter, among other reasons, in order to exhibit to our readers, — many of whom we know are incredalous on this point,-— one specimen out of many that might be addaoed, of the silent, insidious inroads of the modified Oxford popery, on the doctrines and prac- tices of the ehuroh of England. In this letter we have the evil merely in the bud. The writer evidently knows not whither he is tending. He speaks quite innooently of making an oblation of the bread and
390 ON ** THB OBLATION."
wine io the Lord's Sapper, and of ^sfaewiDgp' tbe Lord's death, in the Eooharist, to God as well as to man, and. yet evidently thinks that he is in no way approaching Popery ; thongh these are nothing ebe than the first way-marks on the road which ends in * the sacrifice of the mass ; ' as common sense and ecclesiastical history alike inform us.
But we mnst not wonder that Mr. Edge shomld not see clearly where he is going, — when we look at the singular inadvertence displayed in fats letter. He steps forward to rebuke ns for having censored the new Oxford fancies, as we found them printed and published ; and yet it is sufficiently clear that he him- self has not read the publications which he so gallantly undertakes to defend.
He does not even know what the Oxford Tracts teach ; but, for want of knowing, he guesses at it, and, as might be expected, guesses wrong. He says,
' Now, it is this oblation (of bread and wine to God as the creator of the fruits of the earth) and not an oblation of the consecrated elements, as symbolical of the Lord's body and blood, which churchmen generally mean when they use the word, and which, I doubt not, the individuals whom you call Puseyites also mean.'
But the individuals called Puseyites, when speak- ing for themselves in the Tracts for the Times, use very different language. As for instance, —
' They presented to the Almighty Father the syrt^ bols and memorials of the meritorious Death and Pao- sion of His only-begotten and well-beloved Son, and besought him by that precious saerifiee to look gra- ciously upon the church,' &c.
' They felt assured that this sacrifice offered by the
ON •'THE OBLATION." 381
ehurck on earth, for the whole church, conveyed to that portion of the oharch which had passed into the umeen world, sach benefits of Christ's death as were still applicable to them/ {Tracts far the TtffMi, No. 81, pp. 6, 7.)
When Mr. Edge, therefore, tells us that we * ha?e assumed that these are the opinions ' of the Oxford Tract- writers, we must plainly answer, that we haye ' assumed ' nothing ;— but that the assumption, and that an unfounded one, is all his own.
In like manner, in closing his letter, Mr. Edge asks,
' What do you mean by saying that these persons claim the power to perform the miracle of transform- ing the sacramental bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ?'
We answer, that we merely ' say ' of them, what they say of themselves. In the recently published volumes of Mr. Froude*s Remains^ we find these words, as descriptive of the powers given by the apostles to their successors : —
• To enable others to perform this great miracle by ordaining them with the imposition of hands.'
Now if Mr. Edge will shew iis in which of her formularies the church of England teaches that ' a great miracle ' is wrought in the Eucharist, we will at once confess that in calling this expression ' Popish ' we have slandered the brethren. But the church teaches no such thing. She declares, that * the sacra- mental bread and wine remain still in their very na- tural substance,' • and the natural body and blood of our Saviour Christ are in heaven, and not here ; it being against the truth of Christ's natural body to be atone time in more places than one/
332 ON **THE OBLATION."
Mr. Edge, then, has undertaken to defend the Ox- ford Tract-writers, without having taken the pains to understand what it was that he was about to Tindi- cate. This was hasty at least. But what of Mr. Edge himself, and his own views and practices ?
Of these we shall only say that they betoken a state of mind very open to the temptations of the times. We have shewn him, in the above passages from the Oxford writers, that Popish principles are abroad in the church, however unaware he may have been of it. And now we would ask him, in all re- spect and affection, Whether he is Sn his guard against these tremendous evils ; or whether he is not rather opening his doors and windows to admit the pestilential vapour ?
He is making of the mere placing the bread and wine on the table ' a religious act,' and though he has not yet set up ' a second table,' within the rails, he admits that he desiderates it. He uses also, he says, in the service, * a silent prayer,' no-where oom- manded or even suggested, by any rubric, canon, or other ordinance of the church.
Now all this is a positive innovation* Mr. Edge must know very well that the practice of the whole church of England, from the Reformation to the pre- sent day, has not been to place the bread and wine on the table by the hands of the minister, as a ' reli« gions act,' with prayer; but to leave this duty to tbe servants of the church. The whole of this fancy of * the oblation ' is a novelty, as far as we are eon- cerned, of which our fathers knew nothing* It maybe maintained from antiquity indeed,--^and wtet follies might not be defended by an appeal to thmt tribunal ! bni as members of the eh«rch of England^
ON ** THB OBLATIOK." 888
we are not at liberty to iodulgpe oarselvea in fanoies seleeted from that repository. Our comm onion ser* vice moAt speak for itself. If an * oblation to God/ wbetber of bread and wine, or of ' the anbloody sacrifice/ bad been intended, it would have been stated. We are not to gness, or surmise, or infer, intentions of which there is not an atom of direct evi- dence* Nor ought we to introduce, on our own in- dividual private authority, ' religious acts,' or prayers, into a service like that of the holy communion ; still less, when grounded, as this is» on a reading of that service whioh none of all the Bishops or Presbyters of the church, for three hundred years, were ever able to discover.
Nor does Mr. Edge's reason for thus impravinjif as be thinks, the church service, by performing it in a mode which neither its framers, nor, we venture to say, any other person ever dreamt of, — appear to us to possess the least validity. * The first thing,' he says, ' which Christ is recorded to have done, after taking the elements into his hands, was, to give thanks to God. After His example the ancient disciples, in their ** breaking of bread," always first offered up the bread and wine to God.' &c.
Now on this we remark : — 1. Is there not a confu- sion made, by using the phrases " giving thanks " and '* offering op," as synonymous ? Does not every Christian give thmnkSf day by day, for the food he eats ; — but does he call that, ** offering up " his din- ner to God?
The giving thanks mentioned in Matt, xxvi. 27 is not at all a peculiar or solitary instance, in our Lord's history. In John vi. we see him, in the midst of the live thousand in the wilderness^ taking the loaves,
334 ON " THE OBLATION."
*^ and when he had piven thanks, he distributed/' &c. So, in Luke xxiv. 30, and in other places, we observe this to be his constant practice.
Bat does Mr. Edge mean to charge our Reformers with entirely forgetting, in their Communion Service, this ever-present duty? Can he overlook the re-* peated acts of thanks and praise which occur through- out the service ? Or if not, — if he be not blind to these things, then where is the room or the necessity for his addition to the service, — his 'oblation,' and his * silent prayer,' when placing the elements on the table ?
With ali kindness and respect, we would entreat him to beware. He has already entered on the dan- gerous path which leads to the ** propitiatory sacrifice for the sins of the quick and the dead," and he will find it so hard, as to be almost impossible, to retain his present position ; or to avoid proceeding onwards to all the abominations of the mass. — Edit.]
The banner of the world floats gaily in the sunshine, fanned by the breezes of pleasure and prosperity, which shew only the bright and flattering side of the standard. But when the dark clouds arise, then the wind changes, and the stormy gale, blowing from the opposite quarter, turns to view the dark side of that banner; and displays before the despairing eyes of the sinner, an inscripHon like that of Efisektel's roll — " lamentation, and mourning, and woe."^^12^. J. East. •
385
FRENCH PROTESTANTS. No. III.
THE SMOKING FLAX.
It was a custom of the Moravian coDgregation of Hernhatt, in Germany, to compile annually a selec- tion of texts for each day in the year ; this text is called ' the word of the day,' and referred to, both in their public and private devotions. A point of anion was thus adopted towards which the minds of the brethren were directed, from the burning shores of the West Indian Islands and the pleasant Gnaden- thal, well named the Valley of Grace, to the frozen and desolate coasts of Greenland and Labrador. It cannot fail to be observed how greatly these ' words of the day ' cheered and enconraged those of the ' united brethren,' to whose lot it had fallen to be stationed in the most dreary, hopeless, and unpro- mising spots. When the little band of missionaries left their native land, to form a Christian colony among the Greenland savages, the word of the day was Heb. xi. 1 : when they cast anchor in the har- bour of the wretched land, which wais henceforth to be to them both country and home, the word of the day was Phil. iv. 7 : and often, during the long years of trial and suffering which they endured, do we find
336 FRENCH PROTESTANTS.
them looking back to the promise; whose light shone on the hoar of their first landing.
It is thus, that in seasons of distress and perplexity^ all Christian eyes should be turned towards those great promises which, whatever clouds may obscure the narrow horizon of our own days, gleam forth unchangingly, a stedfast light upon the sea of time, marking the entrance to that harbour of peace in which the church of Christ, in the futurity of days, shall assuredly find rest: when the stone that smote the image shall become a great mountain and fill the whole earth ; when, from the rising of the sun antil the going down of the same, the name of the Lord shall be great among the Gentiles. But besides the glorious promises which mark her final triumph, the church of Christ is encouraged and supported, in these her years of warfare, by many assurances of the love and protection of the Lord, during the times of depression and affliction. '* A bruised reed shall he not break, the smoking flax shall he not guench,'' seem words peculiarly applicable to that portion of the Christian church in France which, almost extin- guished by the storm of persecution, and having loogp languished in obscurity, gives evident signs of once more shining forth as a '^ lamp that burneth in the light of salvation." May it grow brighter and brighter to the perfect day, until the Lord shall *' send forth judgment unto victory.*'
* Nothing can be more desolate than the present state of the church in France,' says a writer at the close of the last century ; ' on the side of the, profes* sion of godliness scarcely any appears ; if there be any real Christianity remaining it is concealed/ 'Not do we hear,' he continues, 'of any revivals,
FRENCH PROTESTANTS. 337
now that e?ery link of Popery is broken, and every man's bonds loosed, A few, indeed, sigh over the abominations, and in the south of France a cry is beard for the pure word of God ; but the labourers are not found, or compelled to conceal themselves.' But notwithstanding this gloomy prospect there yet re- mained those who still cherished the remembrance of the piety of their ancestors, and many who still continued faithful to the truth. M. Vernier, who Tisited a place called Mirabel, between Saillans and Orreste, speaking of the reception he met with from the Maire says, * He wished me to go to his house, where he as well as his family shewed me a great deal of kindness; he told me that formerly, in the days of persecution, the pastors were received and concealed by his family ; he shewed me a large tum- bler, on which were written these words — ' I love God,' and the date of the year, being 1788, and which be informed me had been used by the pastors in the days of persecution, when administering the Lord's sapper ip desert places. He also shewed me a white embroidered linen cloth, more than a century old, which he said had been used to carry infants into the same desert places to be baptized.' Not longer than fifty years ago,' remarks Mr. Hartley, ' the Protes- tant religion was without toleration in France: though less active severity had been exercised under Louis XYL than under his predecessors, I know not if even at that period a single Protestant temple was permitted by the government to exist. It was amidst rocks, and mountains, and forests, and beneath the temple of the sky that our Protestant brethren as- sembled together, to call on the name of our Re- deemer! I myself have visited In the vicinity of
ArsiL, 1840. Z
B38 FRENCH PROTESTANTS.
Nismes, the desert where religious assembKes of this nature were held/ There are now 16,000 Protest- ants in that town, and 160,000 in the department of the Garde, in which Nismes is situated. In the neighbouring department of the Drome there are thirteen Protestant ministers by whom the gospel is preached.
It has before been observed, that during the terri- ble reign of infidelity in France, which suoceeded to the days of persecution, there yet remained not only those who cherished the remembrance of the trntb, but those who yet continued faithful to it. It is diffi^ cult to follow into the secrecy of private life, the ^* hidden thousand *' of the Lord, who remain uncor- rupted by the evil influences around them ; nor when they are found, do their lives ordinarily present aught to record except their faithfulness; yet this must attract to them the sympathy of those who have sufBcient knowledge of human nature to feel bow difficulties and temptations are multiplied, when every worldly circumstance, every domestic rela- tionship, every daily habit is not only opposed to our religious faith and duty, but has a tendency to draw the soul away into an opposite direction. Mr. Hartley mentions a Protestant lady whom he met at Tours, whose husband had held a considerable rank under the empire. Married to a Roman Catholic in the days of Robespierre, completely deprived of the religious services of her church, and separated from all Protestant society, she still remained firm in her belief. At the time Mr. Hartley became acquainted with her, the close of life was rapidly approaching, and her heart was filled with the hope of meeting the Lord. She received the sacrament with the Pro-
FRBNOH PROTESTANTS. 889
«
tefltant cwngregation at Michaelmas, aod retarned to ber eovrntrj seat, intimating her intention of coming again to Toars for the same purpose at Christmas. Before that time arrived, she was no more, and Mr. Hartley was summoned to perform the burial service over her remains. Her grave was in the Roman Catholic cemetery of the village near which she had lived ; and of the nnmbers that assembled reand it to intness the faneral one only was of the same faith as herself, — the minister.
The change which is gradually pervading France is marked by a thousand faint, and, from day to day, almost imperceptible alterations. We hear, perhaps, of the arrival of a faithful minister amongst a con- gregation whose ancestors indeed were Protestants, bat of whose faith they retain only the name. He enters the houses for the purposes of instruction; the inmates run about in wooden clogs, to drown that voice of exhortation which they are so unwilling to hear; he holds a religious meeting, and endea- Toars to preach to them ; the laughing and talking of those close to him interrupts every word* Next we hear that the people are more orderly — that there is silence daring public worship — that the meetings are well attended — that schools have been established. Then comes the mention of the pastor's hopes--^f the many who have joined them in sincerity-^of the multitudes who are flocking to hear. Nor is this confined to one, or two, or three places. The So- ci6t£s Evang^liques employ one hundred agents, ministers, evangelists, and colporteurs in gathering the scattered elements of new churches, and confion- ing those already established. New places of wor- ship have been built, new congregations have been
Z2
340 FRENCH PROTESTANTS.
assembled. At Lyons, Chalons, Bourdeaax^. the nambers rapidly increase, and though the whole is bat as a drop in the midst of the great popalation amongst whom they exist, let us hope it is a seed which shall bear an abundant harvest to the truth. * Les v^ritables disciples du Sauveur,' as it is remarked in the Bulletin Trimestriel of the Soci6t6 Evang6- lique, ' qui n'ignorent pas que son r^gne ne yient pas avec bruit, sont heureux et r^jouis de saToir que i'^vangile de J6sus Christ avance sans que le monde s'en apercoive, en faisant sans cesse de silen- cieuses conquStes.' At Souville, in Normandy, a number of the inhabitants, with the mayor at their head, prepared a building in which Protestant wor- ship might be conducted, and invited a minister from Cherbourg to officiate amongst them.
The fields are * white to the harvest,' but where are the labourers which should work therein? Look at the sums expended amongst the heathen, and the mite dropped into the lap of a sister country, for the benefit of those whose fathers were martyrs for the yery faith we profess, and who are in many respects our brethren. It is not too much perhaps to say that about ten or fifteen years ago, a spirit nearly akin to hatred against France was instilled into the hearts of English children and English people; it is time that a feeling so unchristian should cease, and that a difi'erent territory, different laws, and a differ- ent language should no longer make one portion of the human race, the enemy of another. In alluding to the money spent among the heathen, I do not for a moment mean that it is commensurate either with their wants or their claims upon the civilized com- munities which have been so long regardless of them.
THE STORM. 341
bat that there is not a degree of sympathy even ap- proaching to that felt for the heathen entertained for those who need it as mach, and who, .in the midst of arts, science, literature, wealth, luxury and refine- ment, are as destitute of the knowledge of the Lord, as the Parsee who turns to the west to worship the setting sun. Infidelity, liLe a curse, seems to have fallen upon the land.
Let us hope that the light which we now see is the early dawn of a better day for France, and if for France, for Europe also: for if Athens and Sparta were the eyes of Greece, England and France, so far as regards human, power and human greatness, are the eyes of Europe.
THE STORM.
The midnight waves roll on the shore, Like the low thunder's distant roar ; The fitful blast with waitings loud. Laments along each quivering shroud ; Happy each ship whose anchor fast. Is in our sheltering harbour cast! There swept the mighty surges — hark ! God help each distant bark !
O Father, thou whose awful power, So oft forgot in sunshine's hour, Is oft invoked when tempests dread, A gloom o'er earth and ocean spread ;
312 THE STORM.
Wherever frail bamanity Wakes from its coach and lifts to Thee, The hurried prayer of thrilling fear, Do ThoQ, in mercy, hear!
Wherever woman's trembling hands Light the dim lamp, whilst pale she stands. Beside the bed, where baried deep, Lies each loved face in childhood's sleep-* Wherever human hearts beat high. Wherever wakes the watchful eye. Or pray the lips unused to prayer, Do Thou, in mercy, spare !
And, oh ! again our eyelids bless. With slumber's sweet unconsciousness! The wakeful hours are not for those Whose hearts with faith on Thee repose ; 'Tis not for those who trust thy care Such anxious fearful watch to share^ In li^e or death thy choice is best, Thy presence is our rest !
k. A. S. B.
'343
MODERN GEOLOGISTS.
Madam — I come before you as one of those who fiave been so often ridiculed and taunted in your pages under the name of 'Modern Geologists.' If our pretensions were truly stated, there might be some reason for refusing to listen to our defence on the plea of danger in such a subtile controversy ; but when I say that our views have often been grossly misrepresented, I appeal to your justice to give me a fair hearing while I briefly state our opinions, with the reasons on which we found them.
We have been accused again and again of denying scripture, or at least of evading it ; of stating it to have ' nothing to do with philosophy ;' of setting up our creature-knowledge against that of the Creator, and sneering at the darkness of ' the semi-barbarians of Palestine.' I will not deny that among our ranks sceptics and in6dels are to be found, but it is a new sort of English justice to criminate the whole for the guilt of the few^ or to say that the' peculiar opinions of professed unbelievers are a necessary part and parcel of the theory of modern geology. When, therefore, I maintain this theory, I must be under- stood to exclude the views of those geologists who do indeed say, * that scripture has nothing to do with philosophy,' and to speak only in the name of that large majority (comprehending many real Christians) who find no difficulty in reconciling the truth of God
344 MODERN GEOLOGISTS.
as stamped on His creation, with that which He has revealed in His word.
First, then, we believe that, ** in the beginning *' God created earth, atmosphere, and water. We do not pretend to say when this beginning was, but judging from the parallel passage, " in the beginning was the Word," we hold oarselves faily justified in arguing from it a countless lapse of ages.
We believe that some six thousand years ago, God in six days created the present world out of previ- ously-existing materials,—jnst as we believe that on the sixth day God created the body of Adam out of previously-existing clay. We hold the cases to be parallel as efi'ects of purely creative power, and we apply the term create equally to both.
We believe that of the interval .between '< the be« ginning'' and the six days' work, God has given us no record, and that the events which we deduce from other sources are not contradicted by his silence*
We believe that all present existing forms of ani-^ mal and vegetable life were created in the six days* work, and we laugh at the idea palmed upon us by some of your correspondents, that the great mass of fossil remains are similar to forms now in existence*
We believe that life and death were known before the fall — some or us start not even at the assumption that, in the present world, the brutes would have died had Adam never fallen ; and when such texts are quoted against us as ''sin entered into the world, and death by sin,f' we find no difficulty in thinking that St. Paul, writing only /or man, spoke only o/'man, as we read not in another place that, when God passed the sentence of death on Adam, he extended it to aught beside, leaving us to infer, if we please, that
MODERN GEOLOGISTS. 345
for Others (i.e. the brate creation) it had existed be- fore. This more we believe, that nothing but a soal can be immortal, and that veg^etables and animals are alike but beantifal forms of matter made to decay.*
We believe that there has been a great deluge of water, chronicled in the word of God as having oc- cured since the six days' work ; we believe that be- fore those days, fire and water made play-things of the earth's sobstance, and wrought oat dire convul- sions, but of this scripture takes no notice either to affirm or deny.
Now, Madam, I state these views not to convert those who differ from us, but to defend ourselves, by proving that we assert nothing which the words of scripture may not fairly warrant, however much man's opinions have stamped them with a different meaning. It is to be wished that our adversaries, instead of confining themselves to ridicule, declama- tion, and empty assertions, would go rather deeper; and studying the subject so easily censured without study, would place nature and scripture side by side, to prove that there is a disagreement between them, before they presume to assert that those who believe the one, must, of necessity, slight or deny the other* This I fear not to say, that both in your pages and out of them I have seen remarks made against geo- logy which far more proved the ignorance of those who made, than the presumption of those who pro- voked them ; and I repeat it is equally uncourteons and unjust to allow these idle accusations to pass
* This interesting subject demands a fairer statement than was compatible with the brevity of the above propositions. I have some suggrestions to offer and some answers to seek, if 1 thought the well- known serupolonanesa of these pages would admit the discussion.
346 MODERN GBOLOGISTS.
current in society without giving^ as a fair opportn-- nity to deny the opprobrioas charges.
There is one more important article of onr creed : we believe that the God of troth has not stamped his creation with a lie. The marks he has given are plain, — ^how plain the majority of those who sneer at them do not know ; and for this reason I would more especially advise them to read the evidences we offer in support of our opinions. If they consider this dangerous, we press it not, content to yield the for* bearance we claim; but we expect them for the future to be silent on a subject which their scruples forbid them to examine. At the same time, we would advise them to learn candour and caution from the example of the dogmatic pope and car* dinals who, in the days of Galileo, threatened him with the doom of a heretic because he attempted to prove that the sun and moon did not stand still in the valley of Ajalon. They would not believe that the Holy Spirit in mercy stooped to use the colloquial phrase of the day : they shut their eyes against Gali- leo's facts, their ears against his reasons, and dared, on the authority of their own pre-conceiyed notions, to place the word of God in opposition to a truth, which more enlightened Christians have fully recog- nised. Thank God we have neither pope nor cardi- nals in England, — I would we had none who, like them, so wilfully refuse the possible agreement be- tween nature and revelation, as to leave honest in- quirers no alternative but to distrust their faith or their senses.
No, Madam, the majority of modem geologists nei- ther deny npr slight the authority of scripture, but they conceive that on the subjects of their science
MODERN GEOLOGISTS. 347
scriptore has spokeo little, and that little in terms which will fairly bear another meaning than that which popular opinion has hitherto assigned them. If, on this point, others think them in error, it mat- ters little ; ' to their own master they stand or fall ;' but they do not choose in silence to be branded as infidels by the religious clamour of the day. For myself, I hold the Bible to be as far above all sys- tems o{ geology as heaven from earth. I hold it to be profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction and instruction in righteousness ; yet this does not prevent my receiving the opinions I have now pro- fessed, far less does it make me so willing to think evil of others as to despise them unknown and con- dennn them unheard.
[We have inserted this letter in fairness to a class who consider themselves aggrieved by occasional re- marks from the pens of our correspondents on the sobject in question. We would rather it ended here ; we shall decline any farther controversial communi- cations from either party ; especially as the paper of Xtf Q., in our last, which was written, and in our pos- session, long before the above came to hand, bears strongly on the point. For ourselves, we remain wholly unconvinced by, and conscientiously opposed to, the notions of modem geologists ; regarding as unscripturat in a high degree some of the position assumed by them, and defended by our present cor- respondent.— Ed.]
348
A MORNING HYMN.
When the first ray of morning breaks Upon the glad world, and awakes Creation round, the earth and sky» To life, and light, and melody ;
Then, O my soul, from slamber spring, And, mounting on devotion's wing, Tune with the lark thy earliest lays. To celebrate thy Maker's praise.
When darkness o'er the silent world Her ebon banner had unfurled. His piercing eye dispelled the gloom That wrapped thee in thy living tomb.
No foe thy guarded couch drew near; Preserved alike from harm and fear, Thou'st sweetly slept the night away, And wak'st to hail the new-born day.
Nor through the hours of sleep alone Thy heavenly Guardian's goodness own — Unnumbered gifts all day he showers Upon thy path, like summer flowers.
Then, O my soul, from slumber spring, Spring upward on devotion's wing ; Tune with the lark thy earliest lays. And fill all heav*n with songs of praise. Peteisfield. S. W. H.
349
CHARITABLE SOCIETIES.
No. III.
Ideas, according to Locke, are derived either from sensation or reflection. Now I have shewn, that the idea of the poor man, which is conyeyed into the sen- soriam of the Christian world by its eyes, the cha- ritable institations, is distorted and darkened, rather a dream than a reality. It follows, that the princi- ples, which are framed on this idea, are themselves false, and can lead to nothing bat wrong actions. Besides these, there are other principles, which we may consider as arising from reflection. They are formed, by the efforts of the different minds of which the Christian world is composed, to serve as general goides to direct its benevolence. Such principles of action, if correct, are highly usefal ; bat, if erroneous, exactly in proportion to their speciousness and the aathority on which they rest, is their power for evil. It is a principle upon which many act, who would shrink from its plain avowal: that to relieve want is ultimately to increase misery. Few venture to ad- Yocate the destruction of hospitals and almshouses, but many would reduce the relief of the poor within the very narrowest limits. Their hearts revolt from the principle I have stated, while their intellects em- brace it, and, therefore, to compromise the matter be- tween the intellect and the heart, they act upon it
350 CHARITABLE SOCIETIES.
partially. Indeed there are district societies which act apoD it almost entirely, and refuse all succonrto the distressed ; their efforts for the temporal good of the poor being confined to the collection of weekly or monthly savings, to be augmented at the end of a year io some fixed proportion. Such district socie- ties, I hope, are few, but they illustrate the prin- ciple.
Of the arguments upon which the principle is based, I say nothing. -Their legitimate consequence is not, that district societies should be pernicious, but that they should cease to exist, that the poor should be left to perish, that war should be encouraged, and pestilence desired, in order that one man may not be burdened by providing for another.
The principle, whether true or false, is evidently not practical. To act upon it is to err.
Again, the principle, if true, produces no sensible effect in a small space, and in a short time. As it has been observed of gravity, that, so weak is its power, that it requires planets to exhibit it ; so may it be said of this principle, that it needs for its deye- lopement nations and centuries.
If every benevolent society should at once abandon its parsimony, the aggregate of increased happiness would be great, and it would be bestowed immedi- ately ; the misery which this principle teaches as to expect is far distant — the work of ages.
So that, by following out in whole or in part this principle, we are providing against the dangers of future centuries, neglecting at the same time present duties, stifling our compassionate feelings, and vio- lating the spirit of the Bible. ** The world passeth away ; " its sun has long left the .meridian, the even-
CHARITABLE SOCIETIES. 351
log shadows are gathering, aod it may be that before another century is nambered with the past, all may have changed, and sorrow and want may be remem- bered no more. It may be, and, if it shoald be, how ▼ain is our present effort to ward off from coming generations the pressure of poverty.
Can it be our doty as Christians to act upon the, supposition, that the present fabric of society is to Jast for ever, or even for long ? When the word of God assures us, that ** the fashion of this world pass- eth away," when the signs of its dissolution become day by day more evident, when its surface qracks and heaves, and the fires beneath struggle to burst forth, surely it is not a time to neglect obvious duties, in order to provide for remote possibilities, or to cal- culate on future ages, which may never exist at all. '' Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof;" the care of coming centuries we may leave to God.
It is a principle generally taken ^or granted, that a poor man^ while in work, is able and ought to lay by a provision for the wants of his family, when sickness or misfortune deprive him of employment. That he ought to do so, if he be able, is a doctrine to which I willingly subscribe. But that this, as in the case of the English poor, is in general quite an impossibility, will become very evident to any one who will can- didly examine into the matter.
Labourers or workmen, masters or capitalists, form two distinct classes, the former of which depend for their subsistence upon the resources of the latter, and the latter depend upon the former for their gain. In the eye of the economist, the wealth of a nation con- sists in the magnitude of the gains of its capitalists. Nowy the gain of the capitalist is greater the greater
352 CHARITABLE SOCIETIES.
the number of workmen and the less their rate of wages. But this very eircumstancey which renders a nation commercially prosperous, has a direct ten- dency to make its labouring classes miserable. Eofp- land is commercially prosperous. Her fields are sown and her looms are worked by men who receive for their labour a bare subsistence. Hence her ma- nufactures outvie in cheapness and excellence those of other countries where the poor are fewer and better paid. But in the meanwhile the peasantry of Eng- land cannot grow rich. They obtain in most cases, wheQ in full work, a suflBciency, but no more, and sometimes less. Seldom do they cross this line. Seldom are they able to do more than provide for the necessities of the present day.
The cause of their poverty we cannot remove. Whether if the country had sacrificed somewhat of her commercial greatness, by checking the growth of her manufactures, her peasantry had not continued more happy and less needy is another question — a question, however, on which I have not a shade of doubt; but, as district or benevolent societies can never effect a change in the social condition of the poor, their object must be to scatter some rays of peace and comfort over the gulph of misery, and to soften, Ly the oil of charity, the wounds inflicted by sin and sorrow.
To urge upon a family, starving to-day^the duty of a prudent regard to the morrow, is to mock them. Tell them to "take no thought for the morrow;" — tell them that though " the young lions do lack and suffer hunger, yet they that seek the Lord shall want no manner of thing that is good: ''—tell them that their God will ** supply all their need," and you will
charitable' societies. 353
bind ap the wounded spirit; bat cold, pradential maxims, with which they have no concern, however well-intentioned, are bat cruel taunts. Their duty and their privilege is not to be careful, but to be be- lieving.
A third principle, more generally avowed and more entirely at variance with the spirit of the gospel than either of the former, is this, that the objects of Chris- tian charity are those who merit it by their virtuous conduct. Hence the phrase ^deserving persons.' Hence the force of the word ' ungrateful,' in drying op the streams of benevolence.
Surely it h not for the undeserving and ungrateful, who receive freely, to give by a scale of merits and thankfulness : For him whom grace has enriched with the ten thousand talents of spiritual blessings, to claim any return for the hundred pence of earthly necessaries : For the sinful to expect goodness, and the pardoned innocence.
*• Freely ye have received, freely give," " that ye may be the children of your Father that is in heaven ; for be maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the un- just/' ** For he is kind unto the unthankful and the evil/'
L. L.
April, 1840. SA
354
HAS IRELAND DONE HER DUTY?
My i>EAR Madam, I AH really ashamed to address yoa on the subject of my present letter ; for indeed it woald be more ne^ cessary to cool than to fan the flame of yoar ardour for Ireland : but the certainty that one at least will read with partial attention what I write, encourages me to proceed.
I have — I need not say where or when — but I have heard it whispered, murmured, and publicly stated, that Ireland should support her own institutions, and should both support, educate, and evangdyze her own poor. It is not enough for some zealous friends, whose hearts are overflowing with love to God and man, to cry out at such language as cmei and uncharitable; nor for others to maintain that some one or two institutions are well deserving of British support The question should not be dropped by the friends of Ireland, as unworthy of serious at- tention, nor should it be discussed on individual grounds, nor dealt with as a matter of feeling ; that money is stolen which is obtained from the feelings, while the judgment is opposed or undecided. We should inquire. Has Ireland a just and rational claim on the benevolence of British Christians! It is the more necessary to sift this question, as I find the Irishmen who have settled in England, ashamed of their country's wants, and tired perhaps by her im-
HAS IRELAND DONE HER DUTY? 355
portanities, are the first to cry, ' Ireland has not done her duty ; she is well able to support herself;' and their testimony must be regarded by multitude^ as final.
Ireland has not done her duty ; who ever was so silly as to maintain she had ? Ireland, as a nation, is just as far from doing her duty as any nation can well be« As far as idolatry is from dcYotion, murder from charity, and political and private iniquity from nprightnes^s, so far is Ireland from doing her duty. But the Protestants of Ireland, the landlords and upper classes, have not done their duty: who ever asserted they had ? Whose balls are the most bril- liant in the circles of the metropolis? Whose horses the swiftest at Newmarket, and the boldest at Melton Mowbray? Whose equipages the most dazzling at Rome or Naples ? And whose soirees the most brilliant and recherch6es at Paris? In all these points it must be confessed that the landlords of the Starving, neglected, naked, superstitious tenantry of Ireland hold a proud pre-eminence; and it often happens that in proportion to the misery of the tenant is the splendour of the absentee landlord. If every landlord took full and Christian care of his own estates, we should not have to solicit any aid, except the blessing from on high on their labours of love. But not only are we thus deprived of our great landed proprietors, but every one that in trade realizes anything above mediocrity immediately flies off, and, either in England or on the continen|^ spends what he earned here, and deems himself at once separated from Irish claims and duties. The * Ireland,' then, respecting which the question is, Has she done her duty? comes to signify the few re-*
s A 2
356 HAS IRELAND DONE HER DUTY?
sident Protestants of her upper classes: Respecting^ them I am ready to say confidently, They have not done their daty. Witness the long list of Protestant lady-patronesses of every Popish charity. Protestant benevolence, so called, fills the coffers of the Sisters of Charity, and sends them forth not only to confirm poor Romanists in Popery, bat to harass and ensnare the sick and dying Protestants* Protestant liberality bailds Romish chapels, holds plates at their charity sermons, and labours to ornament and strengthen the Beast. We too have our high political Protes- tants who boast of the cause, but mock at every at- tempt to convert the Romanist, and barely counte- nance exclusively Protestant charities : while we have our due and full proportion of the worldly- minded and avaricious, the selfish and the carnal, who may perhaps approve what is right, but who in all ages of the church have been slow to make the slightest inroad on their personal convenience. This portion of Irish society has not, I confess, done its duty ; but I would be glad to know in what age or country that portion of society has done its duty. Whenever, therefore, we appeal to the' fashionable, the dissipated, pleasure-loving. Popery and infidelity- loving, selfish or covetous portion of English society, they may very well say to us. Go to our fellows in your own country, they are quite as well able to assist you as we are, and not more unwilling. But I rather think that those who repeat the truism— '^reland has not done her duty,^ mean something very different; even that those who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, have talked and begged, but have not given ; but are, with all their zeal and all their profession, sadly deficient in Christian economy,
HAS IRELAND DONE HER DUTY? 357
Cbristian self-denial, and consequeotly in Christian liberality. Now as tbis is a national question, I shall not apply myself to individual instances of self-denial or liberality, becaase one hundred individual cases might be splendid exceptions to the general rule of self-indulgence and profusion. I shall not therefore enter the kitchens or the cellars of my friends on either side the Channel, or attempt to tear their head-dresses to pieces ; although I think I might shew that the measure of expense, taking class by class, the noble with the noble, the landed proprietor with his fellow, and so downwards, that the habitual measure of expense, not among the pious only, but almost universally, is witfi us far below what it com- monly is with you ; and that Christians here fre- quently practice a measure of self-denial rarely thought of elsewhere.
Passing, however, this comparision as invidious and inconclusive, I will proceed to consider the relative position of that portion of the public, from whom alone societies for the spiritual benefit of this country can look for assistance. Persons coming from Eng- land are struck by the large proportion which reli- gious characters bear to the whole society ; but this arises from their regarding the Protestants exclu- sively as the society contemplated : for if we include the entire population in our view, we shall find them to be but a remnant indeed. A pious Englishman going, for instance, to a town blessed with a gospel ministry, is agreeably surprised to find a well-filled church, where the truth is faithfully preached to an attentive congregation. His introductions are to pious or well-disposed persons, and he thinks reli- gion is greatly flourishing there. But let him transfer
358 HAS IRELAND DONE HER DUTY?
the scene to England ; let him give to the inhabitanta of that town as orach space and bailding as a similar population there wooid require; let him transform the Romish chapel, which gives a short, oft-repeated service to a oongregiUion, standing inside and Car outside its walls, the congregation changing at every service, into six or eight large English churches^ where Puseyism, Neology, or indifference reigned supreme, — how different would be his account ! That the gospel was only preached in one small church, and that only a small portion of that congregatioa appeared to be in earnest ; and that, with that bright exception, nothing could be more melancholy than the state of religion there. The truth is, that Chris- tians in Ireland form a proportionably considerable part of the Protestant community, but a miserably small remnant of the whole population.
So much as to the numbers of these people, from whom so mueh is expected : next as to their powers. No one has ever attempted to deny that we are gen* erally a poor and an extravagant people. Ckin ver- sion finds an Englishman with his purse full, and he has to look abroad for objects on which to bestow that superfluity which was formerly added to his stores, or reserved for occasional and expensive plea- sures ; conversion finds an Irishman with his purse empty, and the first lesson it teaches him is to begin to pay his debts. But this is not so easy a task as at first might appear; innumerable dependants must be retained, or sent to utter starvation ; poor rela-* tions cannot be discouraged in their annual visits of three or four months, their expenses to and fro being paid, besides presents ; poorer and less creditable relations still expect their levies on some ' naex*
HAS IRELAND DONE HBB DUTY? 859
peeted oconrreoce ' or ^ most onforeseen misfortone/ wbich, unexpected and unforeseen as tbey are, reoar afl regaiarly as Christmas and Easter; shoals of yisitors miist be disoonraged, and the hospitable habits of the family given ap. And then when he turns his atten- tion to his estate^ he finds it aa epitome of Ireland — cofifosion, pauperism, extravagance, mismanagement, and the genias of Popery brooding over all. He lias, say, jBSOOO. a-year; his house, establishment, habits, are fully up to that income ; but the interest on here- ditary debts, jointures, and other incumbrances, with tlie losses to whieh every Irish property is annually liaJble, will reduce his income to less than a third of that amount. Suppose him, then, governed by the deepest anxiety to benefit bis country, the most over- flowing tenderness of disposition, and the most un- bounded generosity, how can he meet the demands pressing upon him, and answer the calls of justice ? Now this is by no means universally the case with all our landed proprietors, but it is the case to an ex- tent which produces an important influence over the country.
Bat suppose the circumstances more favourable, and that there is much to give — a rare case, indeed, amongst us. The extent to which beggary prevails is incredible. Really I am not prepared to say at what rank or class it stops ; and I know that the means of some of the most benevolent, means that would per- haps cover the entire income of some of our smaller societies, are swallowed up in gifts ox pensions to redooed gentry, half-gentry, and quarter-gentry ; given not to support pride, or extravagance, or indo- lence, but to relieve present deep and bitter want^ eaosed by great vanity and misconduct I will sap-«
36a HAS IRBLAND DONE HBB DUTY?
pose, however, a very favoiirable case. Suppose the owner of a property, worth. JS500. a«year, free from debt, and residing in the midst of his tenantry, to be converted ; suppose his wife like-minded with him- self, and, which does not always follow, an aetive and understanding housekeeper; suppose them to have retrenched their expenses within the possibi* lities of an Irish establishment, — what is required of them? To relieve the pressing wants of their ten^ antry ; support widows and orphans ; assist dispen-- saries; provide, themselves, medicines; assist to thatch and repair houses ; find out employment, gen- erally not remunerative, for idle hands ; give clothes to crowds of half-naked women and children ; build school-houses, pay teachers : and will they stop there ? No ; immediately they get what we call * a great name,' misery pours in on them from all sides ; if they are wise, they will at once shut their gates against com- mon beggars; but the tenantry of an adjoining estate, the property of some liberal nobleman or Popish middleman^ send forth their cry of hopeless misery; and can his heart be closed against them because they are not bis tenants ? No ; the love of Christ constraineth him, and he opens wide his hand to his poor brother. He gives to the utmost limit Christian prudence will allow ; and presently some object comes up, whose fearful destitution sets cal- culation at defiance ; and rules are broken, and the wardrobe is robbed of articles that promised future economy, and the purse again opened against the judgment; and the distress of the moment is re- lieved. And at the end of tlie year he finds that, as a landlord and a parent, he cannot and must not en« eroach further; and with a grieved heart he gives a
HAS IRBLAND DONE HER DUTY? 361
scanty pittance to a society which has his daily and nightly prayers. And some one then takes np the Report, and says, * Really Mr. — - gives only ten shillings a-year to the Irish Society; he that pro* fesses so mach regard for it; and I find, too, his school has receiTed £5. from the Bdncatlon Society^ and he does not snhscribe one penny. How soan^ daloos I '
I most pat another case<*-a very common one* A gentleman in good circamstances, fond of his family, his money and his ease, has a pious daughter ; she casts her eyes around her, and sees a prospect of nsefolness in establishing a school { her parents laugh at her folly, and close their pockets. She finds, however, that some society will assist her* She prevails on her father to give her a house, and pro- mises not to encroach for more. In order to give something to encourage the children, her pocket* money is hoarded, and every personal indulgence denied ; and when her father's carriage drives past,
some person cries, * What a shame for Miss to
have her school supported by a society, while they are rolling in luxury ! '
I have not mentioned the case of the clergy, as all must know how their resources are crippled. Their incomes have undergone a double reduction ; first in the change from tithe to composition, where, in the majority of oases, very large redactions have been made ; as from £650. to £500« Secondly, in the de^ doction of one^onrth, so that what was £650. is now £375 ; or, if we deduct £100. for curate, and charges on house, &c. which is rather a low average, his in* come is reduced from £560. to £275. And this at a tioie when the price of every thing has risen. These
862 HAS IRELAND DONE HER DUTY?
redactions are universal, except in the few. cases where favoarable compositieiis haye been made, or where, as in the north, there are extensive glebes. But there is another which, thoog^h not Universal, must be taken into the account. The ehurch of Ireland never was rich, bat many of her ministers were made so by anions and pluralities. These, thank God, have been done away, but in the divi- sion.the real poverty of the church becomes apparent Still the demand from schools, readers, beggars, in- stitutions, and even poor relations, goes on ; and he suffers an anguish resembling that which I have often witnessed, of a starving mother dragged at by a starving child, while the current that should have supplied its wants, and made the act of giving and receiving delightful to both, is dried up. I have spoken only of the higher benefices, the ease of the smaller ones of course makes contributioiis from them still more impossible.
Ireland has not done her duty ; Protestant Ireland has not done her duty ; but when we proceed to say, that those in Ireland who profess to take up their cross and follow their Master, have nqt done their duty, we should pause before we reply* I will fill the pause by the admission that they have not, in a scriptural sense of the word, done their duty ; bat let him that is in this respect without sin first throw a stone at them. I fear that, on the important sub- ject of giving, and the self-denial necessary to giving as Christians ought, we ^e, as a body, sadly defi- cient on both sides the Channel ; but while, in Ire- land, moltitades give to their power, yea, and beyond their power, will Christian England say, that because some professors (I use the word in its popular accep-
HAS IRELAND DOMB HER DUTY? 869
tation) do not exercise the self-denial which they might and ought, but which few exercise any where ; will they therefore leave those who are fainting ander their bordens withoat assistance, or withdraw the gospel from places where there is none to maintain it, because some one else oaght to do it? What is Christian charity bat the stepping forward to do that which some one else ought to do, or to have done, but has neglected 1
If there was no belicTer in Ireland, to put his band to the work» ought not England to send her mission- aries amongst us ? and should she slack her hand beeaose there may be found the lukewarm and the warm, as well as the devoted ? Or, do those who say we have not done ouf duty, seriously expect that we should let our children run about barefoot^ or feed oar wives on potatoes and milk, in order to relieve the nakedness and starvation around us, before we are entitled to appeal to him that livetb in prospe- rity ? I well know they do not ; deeply and folly do I feel the debt of gratitude we owe to England. Her government, like Nabal, may have railed on us, as servants rebeUioos against the triple-crowned lord who reigns in Ireland ; hot amply have those " of good understanding'' proved their love, and given abundantly *' a blessing " to their brethren in the wilderness* But while I know that Satan is anxious to check the hand of charity, and to disgust our bre-* thren with us, I feel it my. duty to bring the matter to a point, and ask. Are a few Christians, who remain in Ireland, while multitudes are leaving us, carrying their wealth, time, talents, and their powers of use- fulness elsewhere, to be left to bear the whole burden and heat of the day, or to be regarded as personal
3G4 HAS IRELAND DONE HER DUTY?
beggars, because we plead our country's cause, and open her wants? Would yon wish us to conceal them ? Or will you still continue to fulfil the apos- tolic precept : '* I wish not that other men be eased and ye burdened ; but by an equality your abundance may be a supply for their want, that their abundance may be a supply for your want, that there may be an equality/'
Equality we neither seek nor desire. It is not to be expectcfd that those not on the spot should sacri- fice as much to relieve either temporal or spiritual want, as those who are looking upon the scenes of destitution; but I will boldly say, that if English professors gave to Irish objects as much out of every thousand they possess, as Irish professors give out of every hundred, the subscriptions would be more than ten times what they are. I do not ask them to do so ; perhaps it would be too much to expect ; but I wish to defend Irish Christians from the unjust and cruel charge of casting on their English brethren the burden of Irish charities, while they stand listlessly by, in self-indulgent luxury.
I need not, in conclusion, assure you that these lines have not been written in forgetfu loess of, or in- gratitude for the large debt we owe to Christian Eng- land ; but the more deeply I feel the benefits con- ferred, the more do I tremble at even a whisper that threatens the withdrawal of those benefits*
H.
865
"EVEN SO."
The fandamental doctrine of our Lord and Saviour's essential deity has been so often Yindicated from the aspersions of unbelievers, and so triamphantly placed in its trne and glorioas position before the eyes of the charch, that it may seem presamptuons in a hamble individnal to aim at throwing any farther light apon a subject already so well elacidated. Bat, as the Savionr himself graciously accepted the widow's ** two mites, which make a farthing/' I may hope that Christian readers will not despise the following sim* pie remarks, founded upon texts which I do not re* member to haye seen quoted on the subject*
The words which I have placed at the head of this page, occurring in three several passages of St. John's gospel, but always in the same connection of ideas, present to my own mind as full and unanswerable an argument in support of this all-important doctrine of Christianity, as the most elaborate portions of the epistles, or the plainest declarations of the prophets. A vast weight of heavenly meaning is often com- prised in one or two words ; and I hope to shew that it is so here.
" As the Father knoweth me, even so know I the Father," (John x. 15.) This is the first of the three passages where the idea presents itself to our view ; and it is well worth our while to examine its real import.
366 "EVEN 80."
" As the Father knoweth me/' Now, the Father Almighty* the Creator of heaven and earth, the Om- niscient Deity, mast know all things divinely, per- fectly, infinitely ; and *' evbk so know I the Father." Creatures can know hat a little of their Creator; finite can comprehend hat a glimmering of infinity ; bat here is one in haman form who knows God, the Eternal, Infinite, even as He knows him. Tlierefore he most know God (incomprehensible to haman in- tellect) divinely, infinitely, perfectly; and, therefore, He mast himself be God, or this would be impos- sible.
The second passage I have to notice occurs in John XV. 9 : ** As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved yoa." Now the Father mast love with a divine, infinite, perfect love. He loves not as the children of men love one another. There is no ver- satility, no caprice in his affection ; for with him '* is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.'^ And yet here is the declaration of the Saviour, that ** as the Father'' loved him,— give all the meaning we can to it, or rather beKeve it to be a kind of love far beyond our utmost conceptions, — *' so have 1 loved you«'' Therefore he must love bis people divinely, infinitely, perfectly, without ** variableness or shadow of turning,'^ and therefore he must himself be God, or this could not be.
Again we find these same words in John xx. 21 : '' As the Father hath sent me, even so send I you/' Now how does God send any messenger ? With a divine, inalienable right of command ; with an inhe- rent and omnipotent authority ; and thus '' he sent his Son into the world," as to his humanity, thoagh by the free consent of his deity. And the Son says.
"bvbn so." 367
*^ Even so send I yoa." That mast be with the same diviae, inalienable right of commaDd, the same in- herent and omnipotent authority as that with which the Father sent him ; and therefore he mast himself be Gody or this would be impossible.
The infinite, perfect knowledge, then, — the infinite, unchanging love, — the inherent, omnipotent autho- rity of Godhead, are all possessed by Christ, accord- ing to his own declaration* What a source of con- fusion to the deniers of his divinity, what a fountain of joy and comfort to his own people is here con- tained.
And let not any unbeliever decry the translation ; it barely gives the power of the original. The word there used signifies exactly conformable unth — after the pattern </— giving the idea of one thing being placed upon another, and cut out by its form.
The Christian, then, has no need to fear the cavils of the Socinian ; we have here no fancy of the trans- lator, but the plain meaning of Jesus' own words. Neither need he fear any foe, while the word stand- eth, that the Saviour loves his disciples with the same divine, infinite, perfect, invariable, changeless Jove wherewith the Father bath loTed him.
A.F.
^bit\a of ^ooki^
SPONSORS FOR THE POOR. By the Ren. Montague Hawtrey, M*A, Hatchards.
Wb place this little book at the head of oar list with an anxioas desire that it may attract the special notice of oar Christian friends. The eyil which drew it forth is one, the frightful nature and extent of which is much concealed from the observation of the better classes by that modem arrangement which transfers the solemn sacrament of baptism from the midst of oar public services to the end ; so that the events accompanying the administration of the rite are confined to the clergyman, the under officers of the church, and the parties applying for it. To a pious minister, the scenes that he is often compelled to witness in the performance of this his privileged duty, are heart-reoding : we can attest that Mr. Hawtrey has given but a very faint outline of them. To obviate this frightful desecration of God's holy
PROTESTANT ASCENDANCY VINDICATED. 369
I
ordinance he has suggested a plan ; and has sup- ported that suggestion' both by arguments and calcu- lations, which, to say the least of them, are. well worthy the most serious attention of Christian minis- ters and the communicants of their flock. We hail it with joy, as affording a hope, through the growing zeal and devotedness of the Lord's people, that many who now sigh and cry for the abominations that be ■done, will put forth a vigorous effort for their extinc- tion. We give no particulars, because the book, which may be read through in half an hour, speaks for itself more effectually than we can do for it. We merely state our conviction that such a system, once introduced and acted upon in a Christian community, would more than justify the hopes expressed by its pious and benevolent proposer.
PROTESTANT ASCENDANCY VINDICATED,
and National Regeneration^ through the instrumenta- lity of National Religion, urged ; in a seriet of letters to the Corporation of Dublin, By the Rev. T, D. Gregg, A.M. Bleakley, Dublin; Groombridge, London.
The attempt which in each successive session of par- liament is renewed, to wrest the municipal institu- tions of Ireland from her Protestant sons, and to de- liver over to the Romish priesthood and their ready instruments the whole of that extensive and powerful machinery, has called forth, as it ought to do, a mighty re-action, which will work for good in some way, even should the cruel, unjust, and treacherous outrage be perpetrated by those who haVe the per-
April, 1840. s B
370 BEViEW OF books:
milted power so to do, and who do not fear to brave the conseqaences of so abasin^^ that power. Among other good things elicited by this evil device, we have a series of letters from the Rev. T. D. Gregg, who, in his capacity of chaplain to one of the corpo- rations, has. taken up the subject and treated it with great power. The otter hopelessness of legislating upon any other than Christian principles is insisted on with the characteristic energy of the writer, and the antichristian character of Popery most clearly ex- hibited. These letters have produced a considerable awakening already among some of the too quiescent bodies of Protestants in Ireland ; and we hope their publication in a volume will extend their asefulnesss.
THE LIFE OF KING WILLIAM THE THIRD,
Kinff of Great Britain and Ireland, Stadtholder of Holland, Prince of Orange, Sfc* S(v. By John Ryan, Esq., M.R.S.L., Author of the * History and Anti- quities of the County of Carhw,* ' An Inquiry into the Nature and Effects of Popery,* * A Letter to the Protestants of Ireland,' ^c. Src* Grant and Bolton, Dublin.
In an admirable preface Mr. Ryan telJbs a plain un- varnished tale of the plentiful crops of nettles that poor Ireland, and poor England, too, had been already compelled to reap, up to January, 183&, from the sowing of 1829. What a harvest time we have sub- sequently enjoyed to this present period, 1840 ! And, alas, how the biulding promises of a more abundant crop are multiplying in every corner of the soil! Truly does he say, after remarking on the triomphs
KING WILLIAM THB THIRD. 871
achieved by the enemy throagh that wicked bill, that * to the other body now belongs the mortifying conso- lation arising from the fact, that the justness of their opinion is fully established, their prognostications completely verified, that, in a word, their opponents have, undeniably, perpetrated, perhaps the most per- nicious act of legislature to be found on record since the epoch of 1688/ He might have drawn his pen through the- word ' perhaps/ The description of the neutrals is but too just: that Laodicean body does more harm than the red-hot opponents of Protestant- ism can effect ; but coming events will soon startle them out of their lethargy.
Of the history itself, thus prefaced, we need only remark, that it abounds with interesting details prin- cipally relating to the great struggle in Ireland, but embracing also the whole of the monarch's triumphant career, who was raised up of God to * deliver this realm from Papistrie,' as the pious young Edward expressed it in his dying prayer. Many particulars are related-, drawn from authentic sources, which to the readers of our common English histories will be equally new as instructive. Mr. Ryan writes like a man who knows his own principles, and is neither afraid nor ashamed to avow them. This is what we like ; and, though it be but of Protestantism in its political character that he, in common with other his- torians, treats, sueh book« are of high value in a library. Nothing has more tended to deteriorate the quality of onr patriotism than the'liberaP style in which men have ostentatiously written the history of past struggles. Any deviation from such a mean- dering track into the straight path of consistency, . falsely denounced as party spirit, must produce good.
3 B 2
372 REVIEW OF books:
We wish to make here an amende to Mr. Ryan, for having, in our last month's notice of his recent work on Ireland, neglected to give him credit for making, on behalf of his poor Romanized countrymen, admis- sions such as we demand, of Popery being the root of
■
the evils that we all deplore among them. We repeat that he, the author, under similar perversion, would have made a formidable Ribbonman; and we bless God that his talent and energy are so directed as to render him a zealous, an efficient champion of Pro- testant ascendancy in his dear country.
A TREATISE ON BAPTISM ; designed as a help to the due improvement of that Holy Sacrament as ad- ministered in the Church of England, By the Rev. E, Bickerstethy Hector of Watton, Herts. Seeley and Burnside.
Twenty-five years ago, that valuable work the * Scripture Help' was published by Mr. Bickersteth, and a help indeed it has proved to many an inquiring Christian. This was followed by the * Treatise on Prayer ; ' the work ' On the Lord's Supper ' came next ; then the ' Christian Hearer,' and the ' Christian Stu- dent ; ' and now, we are told in the preface, the series is completed by this volume on * Baptism.' Such an- nouncement is in itself a sufficient notice to Christian readers that a book is published which ought to be on their tables forthwith ; but we cannot refrain from adding the expression of our thankfulness that now, when to darken counsel by words without knowledge is so much the tendency of opinions put forth by a new, a numerous, and a most subtle body of teach-
EVERY-DAY DUTIES. 373
ers in our church, this work should appear, from such a handy on a point where they specially labour to mislead God's heritage. Of course we allude to the Puseyite party, who can only succeed in sowing the tares of their false doctrine where the ground is not pre-occupied by good grain.
Mr. Bickersteth's writings contain in themselves the refutation of every error, by their clear elucida- tion of scriptural truth. The present book contains nothing of a controversial character; indeed, he care- fully avoids it, and is highly devotional throughout. The first part treats of the appointment of baptism, tracing the institutio.n through both portions of God's word. Altogether, it is a valuable winding-up of a work for which the church has cause to be deeply thankful.
The volume is dedicated to Lord Ashley, in a very neat inscription, yielding a just testimony to those works which so brightly distinguish that estimable nobleman— his labours on behalf of the poor factory children; his efforts to maintain Christian education by the state; his firm Protestantism; zeal for the spiritual good of mankind, and love for Israel. Who that can appreciate any of these things does not love Lord Ashley?
EVERY-DAY DUTIES ; in Letters to a Young Lady, By M, A . Stodart, Author of * Hints on Read- iny,^ Seeley and Burnside.
A valuable book to place in the hands of any young lady. Miss Stodart's former volume treated exclu- sively of Intellectual culture; the work was therefore
374 REVIEW OF books:
incompiete as to formiiig' the character of woman in her own proper sphere of domestic asefaloess. We regard the present as a sequel, and richly caicolated to aid onr seK in patting on the adornments which shone so brightly on ^ holy women of old/ Spiritual duties are first and forcibly insisted on; then the fruits to be looked for from the exeroise of habitual faith and prayer, in the various duties of home ; and all appropriate works of benevolence. It is a most engaging volume, interspersed with several sweet pieces of poetry.
MEMOIRS OF JAMES AND GEORGE MAC- DONALD, of Port Glasgow, By Robert Norton, M.D. Shaw.
We are always reluctant to take up the pen for the purpose of condemning books. Our plan is to read what we can out of the multitude submitted, and to notice such as we deem most useful, passing others by. Nothing is more disgusting than the discharges of spleen, conceit, malice, and not unfrequently of envy, which the riflemen of the press fire off from their ambuscade in the form of criticisms against bre- thren or sisters of the pen, seeking to demolish books which they never could have written, and on which they are not competent to sit in judgment. In the present instance we feel compelled to warn oar readers that the work . before us is a strenuoas e£fort to revive the delusion that so troubled the church some ten years sjuce, on the subject of miraculous gifts. It is intended to illustrate a work that pre- ceded it, called * Neglected Truths,' and to prove that the Macdonalds were actually endowed from on
MEMOIRS OF J. AND O. MA€3)0NALD. 375
high with the spirit of prophecy, aod the power of speaking an unintelligible language. The title ol Irvingites is diselaimed by their biographer, for him- self and for them ; biit when we find the whole party avowing and justifying the blasphemous heresy oon* cerning our Lord's human nature, whioh caused the church of Scotland to eject Mr. Irving, we must number them with those who were deluded to believe a lie of Satan's forging, and honestly apprize our readers of the tendency of these books.
It is a very common, a very dangerous plan, to take up and purchase a religious work, as a gift to a young friend, and to bestow it without farther inves- tigation ; or to leave it within the reach of unguarded inquirers. Every passing day renders caution as to books more imperatively a duty ; for many are the snares that the enemy of souls induces even God's children unwittingly to assist him in weaving or spreading.
•
We have seen with much pleasure the first part of a publication, entitled 'The Union Harmonist, a Selection of Sacred Musio,' brought out by the Sun- day-School Union in Paternoster-row. It afi'ords at a remarkably moderate price, 24 beautifully-printed pages of saored music, on very superior paper, and * harmonized for several voices. A musical friend, taking it up from our table, expressed so much ad- miration at the design and execution of the work, that we feel bound to record the recommendation of a more competent judge than ourselves* By all means would we enoourage sacred harmony, being decidedly of Martin Lather^s opinion that in such case, i The Devil hates musio.'
376
THE PROTESTANT,
AN INVITATION TO THE I«ADIES OF ENGLAND.
A SUBJECT has lately engrossed mach of my thoagb ts, which I desire to bring before the Christian ladies of the land, as one peculiarly important to them. Sim- ply as females, it nearly concerns them every one : as sisters, wives, mothers, it is of thrilling moment ; and as Christian members of a community, as be- ing among the lights of the world, the salt of the earth, patterns of good works, and exemplars to those in humbler life, they stand engaged before God not to neglect what appears at this juncture their peculiar calling.
It has pleased the Lord to set over us, on the throne of these realms, a female monarch ; youthful, and consequently inexperienced ; con6ding ; therefore open to receive impressions from the opinions and actions of those around her. It has also pleased the Lord, in his inscrutable wisdom, to permit Satan at this time to raise op among us a system, which, in point of moral atrocity, actually outdoes all that we have ever heard of among the most abandoned of barbarous heathen nations ; a moral atrocity spring- ing from what is not merely a negative atheism, a disbelief in the existence of Deity, but such a raging hatred of the very name of God, such an active, rest*-
AN INVITATION. 377
less, insatiable madness of blasphemy continaally foaming ont against the Holy One, and against bis repealed word, that I verily believe there is not a devil in hell who would dare to utter what is poured, forth daily, hourly, openly by the pen and the lip of the Socialist.
It is wholly out of the question to enter into par- ticulars: suffice it to say that the writer of these pages, supposing it to be only a common form of in- fidelity, conceived not long ago the project of supply- ing a few tracts for the poor, to guard them from such stupid delusion. As a necessary preliminary, some of their publications must be examined— two or three were obtained for that purpose, and the in- vestigation commenced. In less than two minutes after opening the book that ivas first taken up, that book was blazing on the fire ; and though the few lines that had been seen left a heart-sickening horror on the mind for many a day, and troubled the rest of many a subsequent night, the reader of them was positively assured that what had met her eye was nothing compared with the contents of several leaves that had been purposely cut out before the atrocious thing was suffered to come under her observation. Of all the fiery darts to which the Christian soul can be exposed, the most agonizing are those which come in the form of blasphemous and diabolical thoughts: who, that fears God, would venture to invite them by reading books dictated by Satan himself for that express purpose ? Who shall dare to tempt and insult the Most High God, and to grieve the Holy Spirit of graoe, by offering his mind as a mirror to reflect the face of Satan, -his memory as a reservoir to receive the arch-fiead's defiling sngges-
378 AN INVITATION.
tions ? No : Socialism cannot be written against, because it cannot be read without committing pre* saraptaoas sin : it mast be otherwise dealt with ; and may the Lord our God graciously prosper an attempt to grapple with this Apollyon without contracting the pollution of his touch !
If it were a matter referring only to such a class of females as the readers of this Magazine, the evil would not be so awfully great, nor the urgency so crying. But, alas ! the humbler ranks of society lie open and exposed to the full effects of this most frightful malaria. Incredible as may appear the faet, yet a fact it is, that the lectures of these wretched deceivers draw a crowded audience of women to listen to what ought to kindle the most burning in- dignation in every female bosom — for it is a cause where woman may to almost any extent '* be angry/' and yet *' sin not." Keeping aloof from the still more dreadful branches of the subject, at the head of which stands unparalleled blasphemy, the ground on which every female should instantly take a posi* tion of active determined resistance is this: — The main plan of the foul device, as regards us in our na- tural and social relationships.
What is the plan ? First, wholly to abolish mar- riage ; to render the contract between the two per* sons binding just so long as both of them shall please to have it so, and not one moment longer. In other words, to remove every shadow of restriction of every kind whatever, not leaving even a form of contract, nor any obligation that can bind either party for a single day. Matrons of England i consider this.
Secondly, to take every child away from its mother at the time of its birth, admitting no possible mode
AN INVITATION. 379
of after recogDition,- either as to its filial or fraternal ties, and to commit the infants to persons appointed for the charge, who shall nourish them like a promis- cuous litter of pigs, and subsequently train them like a kennel of young hounds, to pursue in after years the same plan as that to which they owed their wretched existence, as chance and fancy may dictate. Mothers, sisters, daughters ! does not this curdle the blood in your Ycins ?
Thirdly, and as a matter of course, to do away with that sacred and endearing thing — home. Every man's abode, equally with every man's wife, daugh- ter, sister, mother, will be every man's property. All domestic duties and occupations must merge in the grand principle of Socialism, and whatsoever par- takes of individual proprietorship must utterly vanish. There is to be no separate dwelling, no husband, no wife, no parent, no child, no brother, no sister, no neighbour, no friend, no pastor, KO God.
' And can it be possible that such a project has really entered the mind of a man, in this age and in this country f It has not only been projected, but is at this day carried into eflfect, not by one man, but by yery many thousands of men and women in Lon- don, in Liverpool, in Birmingham, in all our towns, and in almost all our villages. Hundreds of thou- sands of books and tracts, with several newspapers, the circulation of which is immense, issue from their presses ; hundreds of acres of English soil are pur- chased and contracted for, to erect the necessary buildings— the nurseries for infants already born, or about to be so, of parents who have wilfully reduced themselves below the level of the brute creation, and who are eager to prove their vast inferiority, by fling-
880 AN INVITATION.
iDg from them their helpless young into these promis- cuoas styes. Hundreds of rooms re>echo every night, bat more particularly on the sabbath, to such blasphe- mies as were never before heard, and such obscenity as the human mind never before conceived, while crowds of English females applaud them. And the roaster-mind that produced this plan, the chosen vicegerent, ambassador, and representative of Satan in England, the fountain-head of all the blasphemy and obscenity alluded to, the abolisher of marriage, the render of babes from the maternal bosom ; the man who personally burls defiance in the face of God, and opens the floodgates of obloquy and filthy reviling upon Jesus Christ, and habitually teaches our countrymen, countrywomen, and little children to blaspheme the Holy Ghost, — this man has been taken by the hand by Lord Viscount Melbourne, Prime Minister of England, and in full levee for- mally presented to our Queen Victoria, to lay at her royal feet a statement of his principles and PLANS, and humbly to beseech her Majesty's sanction for carrying them into efl'ect !
This is our position, Christian ladies of England : Lord Melbourne, compelled by the Bishop of Exeter, has, in his place in Parliament, regretted, as very in- considerate, the above-named act; and Lord Nor- manby, also compelled by the unanimous voice of the House of Peers, has issued an official notice to the county magistrates to watch the progress of the society: but the evil is done, the plague is spreading, and the royal sanction, once given, is still pleaded and gloried in by the destroyers of your people. I now call on you, in the name of our God, and of all the blessings that our God has showered down on as.
AN INVITATION. 881
to utter, each in her owd place, and with full purpose of heart, the words, ' This shall not be.'
' It cannot be, unless yon tsonnive at it : it cannot be, if you quietly meet, each with a few friends, under your pastor, or other suitable person, and agree to an address to our beloved young Queen, as the natural, the divinely appointed guardian of our na- tional morals, and upholder of the Christian religion among us ; and having so agreed, provide yourselves with skins of parchment, affix at full length the name and residence of every female who will sign it, and forward to London the signatures so given, to be at- tached to the original address, unless you prefer adopting a parochial, or other address, of your own : and if also you make such inquiries as shall enable you to refrain from employing in any capacity what- ever any man or woman who is known to have joined this horrible community ; refusing even to speak to such a one, save in the language of Christian admo- nition, rebuke, and entreaty. It cannot be ; if thus every virtuous woman in England, without distinc- ^ tion of party, creed or station, will openly shew her- self opposed to this diabolical confederacy, making it, moreover, a rule, when any man of her own rank in life, known to favor the blasphemous abomination enters a room where she is, instantly to quit it, as though he brought the physical equally with the moral plague in his person; and thus, by methods perfectly becoming our sex and condition, we glorify God by manifesting our abhorrence of his blasphe- mers, and our country's destroyers.
Appendid to this appeal, is a sketch of an address to which, if the objection be taken that it is not so spiritual as some might expect or desire, the reply is
382 AN INVITATION.
this : we take ap the most general ground in order that no female professing to believe in a divine re- velation, and claiming to share the privileges which that revelation confers on every child of Adam, may be excladed or deterred from thus making known her sense of the outrageous wrong inflicted on the sex, by these foul demoralizers of every principle and destroyers of every tie that binds the human family together. Pious ladies will doubtless take the lead ; pious females of every grade will be fore- most in responding to the call ; but who, of any class or of any creed, can hold back from joining in such a remonstrance, that bears the name and wears the nature of Woman ?
That the occasion is pressing, the evil at our very doors is manifest in this— even while I am writing, London is placarded with notices that Owen is to de* liver three Lectures in defence of Socialism in the course of the ensuing week, at the room of the Me- chanic's Institute, in the very centre of the metro- polis. Can this be borne t Existing laws, it would appear, are insufficient to prevent this monster of wickedness from spreading his pestilential doctrines. The Queen has power to call for special enactments at the hand of her parliament ; and surely unborn thousands will call us blessed, if we move our royal mistress, thus to interpose on their behalf and our own.
383
AN ADDRESS
To THE Qu£fiK*s Most Excellent Majesty.
We, the undersigned women of England, placed by divine Providence under the sway of the British sceptre which God has committed to your Majesty's hand, most humbly beg leave to make known to our beloved Sovereign the grievance that oppresses us in common with the whole female population of the realm.
A community has been formed, under the auspices of certain evil- disposed, ungodly and immoral men, who are disseminating on every side, and by every means, throughout.your majesty's dominions a system the basis of which is an utter denial of the existence of the Supreme Being, an avowed hostility to every revealed truth, and a consequent desire to re-model the frame of society in diametrical opposition to every recognized principle, not only of revealed but also of natural religion ; and, so far as may be, of nature itself.
In furtherance of this nefarious project, its authors have not hesitated to abolish, for their own part, the institution of marriage, leading your majesty's female subjects into a state of degradation for which no civi- lized country upon earth affords a parallel; and the farther to extend this reign of unbridled licentious- ness, they scruple not to sever the tie of parental love which even the brute creation universally respect; to tear from its mother's arms the new-born infant, and by rearing all the children in one promiscuous, indis- tinguishable mass, to lay the foundation of crimes too
384 AN ADDRESS TO THE QUEEN.
revolting to pain your majesty's chaste ear by even an allusion to them.
Despite the efforts of right-minded men to check the spread of this fearful novelty, many thousands of your majesty's unwary subjects are already enrolled as members of the body, under the distinctive name of Socialists*; and we behold with anguish numbers of our own sex daily falling into the destroying snare.
We therefore appeal to your majesty, who have recently added youi^ royal personal sanction to the hallowed institution of marriage by entering into that state — wherein may it please God to crown your majesty and your royal partner with all the blessings of which these evil-minded men would despoil us ! — We appeal to your majesty, beseeching you to extend the shield of your royal protection over us, and by such vigorous measures as the wisdom of your ma- jesty's councillors may see good to devise, to place a barrier that shall at once stay the progress of these desolating evils, deliver us from our fears, and this fair realm of England from a blot which, if permitted to rest upon her, will make her a scorn and a detes- tation to God and man.
And we, your majesty's loyal subjects will ever most gratefully remember and appreciate a deliver- ance wrought out for us, through the hand of our beloved Queen.
THE
CHRISTIAN LADY^S MAGAZINE.
MAY, 1840.
HELEN FLEETWOOD. X.
On the following evening the widow watched with much more than her wonted solicitude the counte- nance of poor Helen on her return from the scene of trial. It was pallid, downcast, and sad, expressive of calm resignation, such as had ever been its as- pect under the few clouds of sorrow that had crossed her peaceful path. When alone, the old woman eagerly questioned her as to the reception she met in the work-room.
' Something diflferent from what I expected, granny ; for it did not occur to me that Phoebe would tell a downright falsehood, because there was nobody but me to contradict her. She made them believe that I bad been put to shame before the whole family, add- ing that of course I would deny it« I saw it would
Mat, 1840. 2 C
386 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
be useless to do so, and therefore only told her pri- vately there was One to judge between as, who had declared he woald pat the lying lips to silence. After that, I bore without speaking all their mocks and reproaches. I felt that I was too helpless to vindicate the holy cause of religion which they were attacking through me : so I secretly committed it to God, and myself too ; beseeching him to clear my character so far as the evil they spoke of me affected his name and glory/
' And did no one take your part, my poor child ?'
' There is not much- fd^eling in a mill, dear granny. You have often told us that sin hardens the heart, and it is too true. All the labourers there do not perhaps join in open wickedness, but they see an'd hear so much of it, that without they have the fear and love of God in them, they are like the giddy children down in our own dear place at home, play- ing among the newly-tarred fishing boats, as I have often seen; reminding me when I looked at their smeared skins of the text, ''Who can touch pitch and not be defiled ? '* So it is with the factory chil- dren.'
' But, surely some of them must know right from wrong ? '
' If they have been taught to do so, they either forget it or cease to regard the difference. The truth is, if I was as bad as they would make me out, and ten times worse, it would not bring on me any ill-will. It is my trying to keep myself unspotted from that wicked little world, granny, and refusing to partake in their sins, that makes them spiteful. It is not me they hate, but the holiness which I strive to follow, because without it I shall not see the Lord.'
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 387
' Follow it still, my Helen, for he who has called yoQ to do so will most certainly give yon the needful power* Is not bis word fall of precioas promises to that effect ? '
' Indeed, dear granny, indeed it is ! I doubt whe- ther in all your long life you found them so precious as 1 did to day, when trying to ** keep my mouth as it were with a bridle ; " and the more I felt the com- fort and support of God's presence, the more my heart bled for the poor ignorant desperate creatures about me, whom Satan was leading captive at his will. I could not be angry with them, if I had tried.. Oh, it is a dreadful thing to see so many poor children given op to learn all manner of wickedness, with nobody to care for their souls ! I would not be a mill- owner, granny ; no, not for the worth of all the ma- nufactures in England. I could have fallen on my knees in the midst of that crowded room to bless God that I was a poor despised factory-girl, and not an employer. Aye, and I would almost sooner be the worst among those wretched characters, with none to teach or guide me, than the person who, with know- ledge and opportunities, and a Bible in his house, has to answer to God for letting those souls perish, while their poor bodies are worn out by hard and cruel labour to swell his unholy gains ! '
The girl's cheek beamed with the hectic flush of indignation as she vehemently uttered these words. Her own wrongs moved her not as the deeper inju- ries inflicted on her persecutors moved her. She paused but for a moment, and then resumed.
' Mr. Z. I know has daughters growing up : would he send them among us for an hour every day ? Not he. He knows too well that their health would be
2 C2
388 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
destroyed by staying even so long in the heat, the steam, the stench and the dast of rooms, where we are pent np from early morning to late night ; and he knows that they woald never again be let into re- spectable society if they were supposed to hear the vile, filthy talk that his poor labourers use, and the men he sets over them encourage, and which he never dreams of checking, either by his own presence, or by setting any moral, not to say religious person, to watch them. I wonder if Mr. Z. thinks there are two heavens, one for masters, another for slaves ; or how he expects to escape the reproaches of his vic- tims, if both should meet in the place where God has declared that the covetous as well as the abominable shall go ! '
< Helen, my love/ said the widow,' who trembled at the picture placed before her, ' let us drop this fear- ful subject for to-night. We, who have for ourselves strong consolation, having fled for refuge to lay hold on the hope set before us in the gospel, will now intercede for the unhappy beings of whom yon speak. All mill-owners are not alike : some pious and humane men may be found among them, and God can increase the number. Let us pray him so to do.'
Helen was soon wrapped in the heavy slumber induced by over- exertion ; while the aged woman gazed on her flushed cheeks, and watched the catch- ing of her unequal breath, with sorrow embittered by self-reproach. She then stole to the couch where Willy and James reposed, the former apparently dis- turbed by some irritating dream, his knitted brow, curled lip, and the soiled fist that lay clenched on the pillow presenting a strange contrast to the corpse-
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 389
like beauty of his brother's tranquil countenance, pale as the snow-drop, unraffled and serene; and the delicate hand that rested on a Jittle hymn-book, Richard's parting gift, which James treasured above all earthly things except his Bible. Beside this bed the widow knelt and prayed and wept; and then repaired to Mary's little mattress, with a caution that proved needless, for Mary was awake. In answer to the inquiry whether any thing ailed her, she said, ' No ; but I heard a fine speech from Helen, and could not sleep for thinking about it. She spoke so loud, I heard every word ; and I only wish Mr. Z. had heard it too. But, granny, what have they been doing to Helen ? I don't wonder at their teasing me, who often provoke them ; but she is so quiet, and good, and wise, what fault do they find with her? Oh, I can tell, myself. It is because being quiet and good and wise are faults in a mill. Miss Phoebe Wright is just a pattern there, and our sweet Helen a disgrace.'
^ Remember, Mary, that poor Phoebe is as nearly related to me as you are.'
' So much the worse for her ; she is the more bound to take example by you, and to follow your good ad- vice, granny ; but instead of that she tries to set us against you, an^d to make us ashamed of being obe- dient. She flattered me, and would have soon made me unkind to Helen, only I found her out in time, and all by means of my poor child*'
* Your child ! '
' Yes, my little scavenger Katy,' said Mary, rising in the bed, and settling her night-cap with a conse* quential air. * Sit down here, granny, and I will tell you something that will put yon in a rage.'
390 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
' Fie, Mary, bow often have I blamed you for that expression/
< Well, then, something to shock you. Lean down, -granny, to rest your dear back, or I can't talk com- fortably,' added the affectionate child, ' for I am sore you have enough to tire you, inside and out.' Then throwing her arms round the neck of the old woman, sheadded, ' No ; nobody shall ever make me undutiful, or ungrateful, or unkind to you, my dear, fond granny ! '
Nobody could long look cold on little Mary ; she was so ardent, so open, so straightforward ; and withal so loving to those who possessed her regard, that it was difficult to throw a rein on her impetuo- sity, whatever direction it might take. The poor widow felt that some attempt had been made to alie- nate this warm heart from her, and that its failure had produced a corresponding reaction in her favour. Inwardly rejoicing at this, she returned the embrace, and expressed her readiness to hear whatever Mary had to communicate.
' You know all about Kate Malony, dear granny ; that is, all that I knew : but now it comes out her father is in a consumption, and can't work a hand's turn ; and little Katy's small earnings is all they have in the world to keep them alive. A half-penny to buy a sup of milk, as she calls it, for her father, is a great matter to Katy ; and Phoebe who has more money than she comes by honestly— oh, don't look so displeased) granny ; I only say what every body else says — Phoebe has given Katy a half-penny now and then of late, till the poor child, and I too, thought her a great friend to her. Well, at last Phoebe tried to put it into my head to be envious of Helen, saying how rich my little Katy and her father would think
HELEN FLEETWOOP* 391
themselves if they had half mt a quarter of what you bestow, as she says, om a proud stranger ; and often she pointed out ^or starving objects, all in tatters, and said, what false charity it is to keep one beggar like a lady, and let so many want a morsel to eat or a rag to cover them.' ' And did she really say all this to' you?' ' Not all at once : she dropped the remarks some- how, in a way that prevented my taking fright at them, and I think she would have brought me round, only she let it out to Katy, by giving her money, and telling her if she would help to set me against Helen, and get me to plague you, she would %vie her more. So Katy, not knowing what to think, asked me to-day what sort of a granny 1 had ; and then I told her how yoa had been both motheV and father, and every . thing to us, and to poor Helen, whose father was drowned, and her mother and the little baby died of grief, and left her to depend on strangers* Then Katy began to cry, and said, ^' Musha ! Miss Mary dear, is it me that shall speak the bad word to set you against the blessed woman ? '' And so she told me all ; and, granny, I could not sleep for thinking how wicked Phoebe is ; and I heard Helen speaking loud and laying the blame on the people who wont teach the poor factory children any better. I think she is right ; for if they pay us to stop away from our own homes and work for them, they ought to take care we are not taught wickedness at the mills. In- stead of that, granny, the very worst mark you can have on you there is to seem not quite so bad as the rest.'
The widow stifled the anguish of her spirit at this new evidence of the horrors to which she had anwit-
392 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
tingly exposed her sacred charge. She talked ear- nestly to Mary, directing her anew to the source of all wisdom and the only anchor of safety. She repre* sented to her the great responsibility resulting from a scriptural education ; the blessing that she might be- come, as a little leaven in a lump where leaven was rarely found. She ended with a short prayer, and left the warm-hearted child composed to sleep.
But what a tumult of distressing thoughts crowded on her own mind ! No way of escape appeared, but escape, she thought, they must, from such a scene of depravity. Again she summed up her expenditure, balancing it against her slender means, and ended by resolving to take on the morrow a decided step towards that reduction which must precede any at* tempts at removing even one of the children. Ac* cordingly she communicated to the landlord her pur- pose of seeking a more humble abode, and he, com* mending her prudence, told her of one where she would be at very little cost ; in a large house, partly dilapidated and marked for pulling down, the rooms in which were, in the interim, let out to faoailies such as hers ; and she might procure a good one for half the price she paid him. Objections presented them- selves, but necessity overruled them, and as her land- lord had just had the offer of a good permanent tenant to succeed her, he readily forgave a week's notice, and expedited the removal. The evening of the second day after this, found the family for the first time in their lives restrained to a jsingle apartment, large, sombre, dreary-looking, with a little rusty stove standing alone in the midst of a spacious fire-place^ whence the proper fittings had been removed, leaving a black, broken chasm, down which the wind threat-
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 393
ened to rash unimpeded. But the bleak season was still far off; and the poor- widow resolved to let the morrow take thought for the things of itself. As yet she was not in debt; she had taken a step towards avoiding it ; and, as the two crazy bedsteads were a real bargain, and the four ricketty chairs lent by the new landlord, and the small table picked up with the •bedsteads at a broker's sale for next to nothing, she had really cause to congratulate herself, while un- packing and arranging her own bedding, and other remnants of the cottage furniture.
James praised every thing, as though they had taken up a superior abode; and when the others rushed in from the mills, even the dark old walls seemed to smile with the reflection of their happy faces.; for particularly happy they must needs look, to satisfy dear granny they felt no privation in the change.
A few cfuestions privately put to Helen and Mary convinced the widow that matters were proceeding from bad to worse in the mill. The former admitted that she was unceasingly harassed; the latter be- trayed the fact of having, in spite of all admonitory cautions, embroiled herself to a great extent in de- fending Katy from the ill-nature stirred up by Phoebe, to whom the little girl had returned the princely bribe of three half-pence, with a simple speech, the purport of which was suggested by Mary, setting forth that she would not sell her conscience or her friend. This procured for the little orator a slap in the face ; and when Mary flew to interfere, she was saluted by the title of ' granny,' and complimented on so soon following the old lady's example, by taking a beggar under her protection, and teaching her to
394 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
talk cant. The laagh was against her; and this galled her more than severe persecution coald have done. The spinner too had joined in it; and however tri- fling in itself, the widow plainly saw the beginnings of great harm to Mary.
* What can possibly make Phoebe so spiteful against us ? ' asked the little girl. ' It mdst be the same feeling that made Cain slay Abel, " because hiM own works were evil, and his brother's Tigjk^ous.** '
The widow was silent ; she £M tliat so it must be : he that is born after die flesh is ever disposed to per- fleGate him that is born after the Spirit ; and where the restraints of education and refinement are want- ing, this inclination will shew itself, particularly where godliness, with the powerful though silent eloquence of a holy walk rebukes vice and profanity. Phoebe was evidently a depraved character; such, alas ! are to be found in every place ; but Phoebe was placed in a sphere where multitudes united to dis- countenance virtue, while none interposed the pow- erful check of authority or influence to uphold even an outward decorum of manners. The voice of re- proof is an abomination to the scorner ; it will not be brooked in a community of scorners, unless backed by something tending to overawe their unruly spirits. The system, the factory system, under which Phoebe Wright had imbibed the peculiar wickedness that now pervaded her character, also fed the evil, guard- ed it, and armed it with power to wound whatever excited its enmity. The factory system surrounded her with associates, by whom she had been encou- raged in the ways of daring sin, and who were in turn encouraged by her to unite against any one whose uprightness of principle should tacitly con*
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 895
demn them. A few there were, whose soals loathed the scenes that hoarly vexed them ; bat what could they do ? Silent endurance was their only refuge ; and even this was enough to subject them to ill-will, unless they either feigned excess of stupidity, or baf- fled suspicion by pretending to be like the rest.
Excluded from the free air, and almost from the pure light of day; shut up into an atmosphere pol- luted by clouds of foetid breath, and all the sickening exhalations of a crowded human mass, whose un- washed, overworked bodies were also in many cases diseased, and by the suffocating dust that rose <m every side ; relaxed by an intensity of artificial heat which their constitutions were never framed to en- counter in the temperate clime which God had placed them ; doubly fevered, doubly debilitated, by exces- sive toil, not measured by human capacity to sustain it, but by the power of machinery obeying an inex- haustible impetus; badly clothed, wretchedly fed, and exposed moreover to fasts of unnatural length even from that miserable fare ; who can marvel if, under such a system, the robust adult speedily ac- quires a sickly habit of body, and a morbid state of feeling, leading at once to most awful perversion of mind and corruption of morals? But it is not of adults we are called to speak, it isof children,'young, tender, growing children, who require a double por- tion of rest, refreshment, liberty for the body, and of watchful diligence to direct and guide the mind. If, " Train up a child in the way he should go," be a precept that God himself has vouchsafed to give, as the preliminary to an upright walk through lifC) oh who could marvel though the little ones so fearfully forced into every way in which they should not go.
396 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
became in riper years iocamate fiends ! The child's stomach, onfitted for long^ abstinence, and delicately sasceptible of injory, becomes doobly disordered by the privation of food and the imparities that find their way into the system from that noxious atmos- phere : it loses all desire of wholesome diet, and craTCS the exciting draught that shall lend a tran- sient stimnlas to the frame nnstrang by toil, and chilled by sadden transition from the heated pande- moniam of the mill to the raw keen air of night : the poor little victim who reels from exhaustion as it enters the gin-shop, reels thence a drunkard.
Such, with its accompaniments of nameless evils, had been the school into which in early childhood the Wrights were entered : the ill-asage of a savage overlooker had shortened Sarah's term of suffering, and unintentionally interposed between her and the career of vice that Phoebe remained to engage in. On the system, the vile, the cruel, the body and soul- murdering system of factory labour, we cannot charge the innate depravity of the human heart ; bat we do denounce it as being in itself a foul fruit of that de- pravity under its hateful form of covetousness, and of being in turn the prolific root of every ill that can unhumanize man, and render an enlightened Chris- tian country the mark of God's most just and holy indignation, provoking him even to blot its place and name from among the nations of the earth.
Impressed with forebodings resulting from the comparatively few discoveries that she had made, and accustomed to obtain a kind if not a respectful hearing whenever she sought counsel or aid of those in a superior rank of life, the widow Green resolved on making known her grievance to the person with
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 397
whom she had concladed the bargain that had sorely disappointed her. * It may be/ thought she, ' that want of faithfulness in representing to these people the extent of evils which perhaps they do not suspect, is a part of the cause of their continuance. At least, I will try; and if justice is not to be had from the agent, the employers must be appealed to/
She chose what appeared the best hour, to avoid interrupting business, and with a throbbing heart, but a calm countenance, and quiet respectful de- portment, presented herself before the desk of Mr. M.'
' Well, good woman, what's your business ? Have you any younger hands than your own seeking em- ploy?'
' No, sir ; I am the widow Green, who came to you on that errand sume weeks back.'
* Widow Green, Brown, Black, or White, do you think I have a memory for all the colours that pass before me every day? Once more, what's your business?' ,
The widow was persuaded that he did remember her ; and that the discouragingly rude tone was meant to check her communication. , She, however, pro- ceeded,
' I came, sir, from the village of L. with a letter to Mr. Z. from a particular friend of his ; and in that book is the entry made by you of Helen Fleetwood and Mary Green, as labourers in your mill.'
* Ay, I remember something of it now : so yon want to put in the boy, you so absurdly kept back. Gome ; the particulars as quick as you can.' He opened the ledger, and dipped the pen, with an expectant, im- patient look.
398 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
* I am not come to enter the boy, sir, but to ac« quaint yon with some particulars as to the treatment of the girls, which you ought to know * the vio- lence with which the open pages were slapped to- gether again, made her start and stammer ; and before she could recover her breath the agent broke into a vehement strain of reprimand, —
* What the deuce, woman, do you think I sit here to be pestered with long saws from an old fool like you, because a couple of mawkish parish girls are not treated like countesses in the mill ! I guessed as much from the airs you all sported when here be- fore. I thought we should soon have a whine; but make yourself easy as to any thing you will get by it ; and take my advice not to provoke, by imperti- nent intrusions of this sort, something more disagree- able than you or they have calculated on/
Shocked and stunned at the commencement of this ebullition, the old woman recovered her resolu- tion by the time Mr. M. came to a close, and with more firmness and spirit than she had yet exhibited, she retorted, * If these were the plantations, and my children slaves, such language might, or rather must be borne ; but, sir, we are in England, and thanks to the laws of this free country, the man who would not be withheld by the fear of God from oppressing his hireling, must render justice, or pay the penalty of breaking these laws.'
^ Well argued, 1 protest,' said the agent in a jeering way* ' But, my dear ma'am, there are other con- tracts, even in this free country, besides that of holy matrimony, where certain parties having taken each other for better for worse, must abide by the bargain, nolens volens ; and learned as you are in the laws,
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 399
yoa are doabtless acqaainted tbat such is the case in the matter before as, ma'am.*
Doubly indignant at the scoffing manner of the unfeeling man, she quickly rejoined, * Bo you never discard your work-people if they break their part of the contract, and prove idle, disorderly, useless in- cumbrances ? '
*We have means to prevent their being so,' re- turned Mr. M. drily, and with a knowing nod. *
* Yes, you have means to force from your poor little labourers the full measure of toil, and to ter- rify them into submission, but I have yet to learn that there is no redress for them when writhing under cruelty and wrong/
' You are in a good school for learning many things you don't yet know, my old lass ; but be pleased to walk off; for I have thrown away too much time already/
' Yet, sir, hear what I have to say, I beseech you. My intention is not to offend, but to tell you of things that I am sure you cannot be aware of, or they would not be suffered to exist/
' Stuff and nonsense ! Things can't go on to please every body ; and least of all, I trow, to please all the grandmothers of some thousands of children. Once more, you must be off.'
' Then, sir, I will certainly go to Mr. Z.'
* Do so/
' And I will use the advantage that his friend's in- troduction affords me.'
* By all means/
' And I must report to him the uncivil reception yon have given me/ ' Ah, don't be cruel ! Think what will become of
400 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
me, if I am turned out of my respectable situation, and sent to the mill — perhaps to the tread-mill/
A suppressed laugh from behind a slight partition extending along the side of the desk, apprized the widow that others were enjoying the ridicule to which she was subjected. Her heart sank ; and as she passed the door-way, tears gushed from her eyes. ' I have been too hasty,' she mentally said ; ^ I have not preserved the meekness that becomes a Christian. I will go at once to Mr. Z. and plead with him in a better spirit, the Lord helping me. I know he is a father, and he must feel ; I know he is a gentleman, and be will not mock a poor old woman for appealing to his heart and conscience, on behalf of two helpless orphans. Yes, I will forget the man's affronts, and give the master no room to upbraid me.'
A few minutes' walk brought her to the door; and on inquiring for Mr. Z. she was ushered into his presence.
401
ESSAY ON THE TRANSFIGURATION.
BY THE REV. DANIEL BAGOT, B.D., OF EDINBURGH.
III.— The Saviour's Companions.
*' And behold there appeared unto fhem Moses and Elias, talking
with him.*'
It is written of our blessed Redeemer, under the title of Wisdom, in the eighth chapter of the book of Proverbs, ** that his delights are with the sons of men." And this is no idle boast : for, oh ! what in- numerable proofs has our merciful Saviour given to his people, that such is the feeling that contidually dwells and reigns within his breast. His delight hath been to sustain poverty, and suffering, and death, in their behalf! His delight is now to inter- cede for them at the right hand of his Father ! to make them kings and priests, and to confer upon them the rich and precious blessings of his salvation ! to exalt them to bis throoe, and make them sharers of his glory and joy ! In the account of his Trans- figuration we have a proof of this. His immediate ministers and associates in glory were not angels, but men. Whilst three of his disciples were 'per- mitted to be the privileged spectators of this splendid
Mat, 1840. 2 D
402 THE TRANSFIGURATIOK*
• l*.
exhibition, there appeared nnto them Moses and Elias, clothed in the same garments of light and im-> mortality, and enjoying the high distinction of con* Tersing with the Son of God. We have here a spe- cimen of humanity in every form: in connection with weakness and sin, in Peter, James, and John ; in connection with Deity, in the Saviour; and in connection with glory, in Moses and Elias.
These two eminent saints appeared on this occa- sion as the types and representatives of the fatare glorified charch of the Redeemer : — the one, as the type of those who shall be raised from the sleep. of death at the last trumpet's sound ; and the other, of the quick who shall be alive and remain, and shall be changed when Christ shall appear. For the Saviour's people shall be fitted for being with him in glory in two ways, according to the testimony of the apostle Paul, in the 51st and 52d verses of the 15lh chapter of his first epistle to th^ Corinthians, ** Behold, I shew you a mystery ; we shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump (for the trumpet shall sound), and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.'' And the same consola- tory truth is declared by the same apostle in the 15tb, 16tb, and i7th verses of the 4th chapter of his first epistle to the Tbessalonians, *< For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord, «hali not prevent (or, have an advantage over) them which are asleep; for the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God : and the dead in Christ shall rise first. Then we which are alive and remain,
THE TRAKSFIGUHATION. 403
shall be caught up together with them in the cloads, to meet the Lord in the air : and so shall we erer be with the Lord." Thas the resurrection of those who shall have previously died, in the possession of their new and incorruptible bodies, and the transformation of the bodies of those of the Lord's people who shall be alive when he appears, constitute the two methods by which the church shall be prepared to enter into the possession and enjoyment of glory, and honour, and immortality. But the histories of Moses and Elias typified these. Ellas did not die, but was mi- raculously translated, and went up by a whirlwind into heaven; and the chariot of fire and horses of fir& by means of which he ascended, were typical of the angels of God, whom he makes as a flame of fire, and who shall be employed as the instruments of conveying his living saints into the presence of their returning Saviour. Of Moses we read that he died and was buried ; but there fs very strong proof in the word of God, that his body, which was sown in cor- ruption, was very soon afterwards raised in incorrupt tion, and carried up as a spiritual body into the same regions of light and joy into which Enoch before him, and Elias after him, were translated, that they should not see death. The ninth verse of the epistle of St. Jude seems to countenance the opinion that the very same archangel, whose voice, according to the testimony of St. Paul, is to summon the dead in Christ from their graves at the last day, was sent to raise the body of the Jewish legislator ont of that sepulchre in which it had been deposited by God himself. For surely we are not' to think that the apostle refers in this passage to the burial of Moses,^ in which the archangel Michael may be supposed to
2 D 2
404 < THE TRANSFIGUBATIOK.
have been employed, for the devil vroald have offered no resistance to bis barial : he regards it as the time of his peculiar triamph when the bodies of men are consigned to the tomb ; but when God puts forth his quickening power to bring them back into the enjoy* ment of immortal life, then would Satan readily offer his most violent opposition. Whatever the grave has opce received into his dark and gloomy mansions, he looks upon and lays claim to as his rightf^l property ; and so, when the archangel appeared to raise the body of Moses, he naturally contended in the manner referred to, unwilling to allow so rich a spoil to be lost without a desperate struggle. But how could Moses have appeared in a body on Mount Tabor, if he had not been previously raised from the dead ? He could not have been a type of those who shall reign with Christ in glory, if he had appeared in any other body than his own. However great may be the change between our present bodies, and those in which we shall appear hereafter, still their identity shall be preserved. And though the body which is now laid in the tomb, is not that body which shall be, yet it is the germ and the seed which shall grow out of corruption into incorruption ; out of dishonour into glory ; out of death into life.
Moses and Eiias appeared, likewise, as the repre- sentatives of the legal and prophetical dispensations, to shew the harmony which subsists between all the revelations of the will of God, and that the law and the prophets are auxiliary and subordinate to the everlasting gospel. Jesus is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth. '' The testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy ,'' for '' to him give all the prophets witness, that through him
THE TRAKSFIGURATION. 405.
»
whosoever believetb shall receive remission of sins/' There is salvation neither by the law nor by the pro* |>hets, but by Christ, who is the sabstance of both. And for this reason these two eminent and remark* able servants of God appeared on the mountain, that Moses might lay down his rod, and Elias his mantle, at the feet of the promised Saviour, identifying and pointing out Jesus of Nazareth as he of whom Moses in the law and the prophets spake.
They, also, appeared on this occasion to shew what shall be the condition of the church of Christ wh<en it shall be glorified tirith him in hi^ everlasting king- dom. And here we have satisfactory proof that the glory of Christ and of his church shall be the same. He appeared in glory; so did they. His face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light ; so likewise shall the wise shfne as the bright- ness of the firmament, and shall wear garments made white in the blood of the Lamb, and appear as the son in the kingdom of their Father. The apostle says, that *' as we have borne the image of the earthy, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly,'' and that Christ shall ^* change our vile body, that it may be like unto his glorious body:" and in the sublime and solemn prayer which is recorded in the 17th chapter of St. John, the Saviour says, *' The glory which thou hast given me I have given them/' Oh I the inconceivable love of our blessed Redeemer ! He shares with bis people ail the immense results of his deep humiliation. It is not enough to satisfy his love that he has raised us from the ruins of the fall, and procured our pardon and our peace v|rith God, but he makes us partakers of these great rewards
406 THE TRANSFIGURATION.
which the Father has conferred on him as the recom^ pense of his sorrows and safferings in the fiesh.
And what a cheering and impressive evidence there is here, that Jesas in his glorified humanity shall hold intimate and sweet communion with his re- deemed people ! — such communion as that which is referred to in the 3d verse of the 14th chapter of John, where he is represented to have said, '* If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and take you to myself, that where I am there ye may he also ; ** and in the prayer in which he offers up this sublime petition, ** Father, I will that they tflso whom thou hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory which thou hast given me ; '' and such as that which' is described in the book of the Revelation in the following words : — '' The Lamb which is in the midist of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters ; and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." As his people cannot be completely happy without him, so neither can he be completely glorified without them. He is the head, and they are the members: He is the vine, and they are the branches : He is the bridegroom, and they are the bride: and therefore his being in a state of perfect glory implies that they are so likewise.
And is there such a thing as social intercourse and free communion amongst the many members of the glorified church ? Yes ; this account of the appear- ance of Moses and Ellas talking with the Saviour proves that there is. St. Mark says, that there ap- peared '' Elias tvith Moses," as if more emphatically to denote the union and eon cord which sufosisted between them. Oh ! the blessed harmony, the peace-
THB TRANSFIGURATION. 407
fal and bappy intercoprse which shall for ever pre- vail amongst the pure and perfect members of the Redeemer's cbarch I bat here is the cause and reason of their union and bliss, their thoughts are engrossed with one all«commanding tbeme» the person and work of their blessed and adorable Saviour* In the eter- nal world, where all shall be pure and holy, Jesus shall ever be recognised by his adoring people as the ** chief among ten thousand, and the altogether lovely ; " and they shall delight to bend in grateful homage before his throne, ascribing glory aod honour and power unto him that loved them and washed them from their sins in his own blood. He shall always be the centre and the bond of union to his redeemed and exalted members ; and the copious emanations of his love, flowing down in sacred streams from the throne of his Majesty, and passing through every heart in the happy assembly of his saints, sh£|ll ever constitute the one pervading principle that shall bind them together in a happy, united, and peaceful asso- ciation : and what the principle of gravitation effects . in the material world, keeping all things in proper and harmonious positions, the great and sublime principle of love shall effect in the spiritual and eternal world.
We have also, in this portion of the narrative of our Saviour's transfiguration, a gratifyiog proof that there shall be a mutual recognition of Christian friends in a future state. This is a subject by which the feelings and hopes of many of the children of God have been frequently agitated, and yet it is one which has been clearly determined by the testimony of scripture. How plainly the apostle decides the questioDy when in his first epistle to the Thessalo-
408 THE TRANSFIGURATION.
nians he says — *^ I would not have yoa to be igno- rant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep ; that ye sorrow no^ even as others which hare no hope. For if we believe that Jesns died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him.'^ The '^hope'^ to which the apostle alludes in this passage, is evidently no other than the hope of resuming their acquaintance and intercourse with friends who had fallen asleep in Jesas, in another and a happier state of being. But it is clear from the account more immediately before us, that Moses knew Elias, and that Ellas knew Moses : and if these two saints who had lived at dif- ferent periods of the world knew each other when they met together in another state of being, bow much more likely that those who hav6 shared eaoh others joys and sorrows in the flesh, who have taken sweet counsel together, and have walked to the house of God as friends, shoald be permitted to resume their friendship in a better world ! But it may be said, that it was by information received after tb& entrance of Elias into realms of light that Moses knew him, and that our future knowledge of our Christian friends shall take place, no.t as the result of oar own recollection, but in consequenee of spe- cial revelation. If this be so, still it shall be tbe Saviour's office thas to make known his people ta. each other ; and sorely our future recognition of Christian friends cannot be less delightfal, because they shall be pointed oat to us by the Saviour ! Ob no! — onr reunion shall be happier and sweeter far, if brought about by the direct intervention of him who loved us, and gave himself for us ! How much of comfort may the believer derive from
THE TRANSFIGURATION. 409
this precious portion of the word of God ! Those that have been called to moorn the loss of departed friends, may learn from the appearance of Moses and Elias, that they only part from each other for a little while, to meet again in a better world, never to sin or sorrow or die any more. For oar Christian friends who have fallen asleep *' are not lost, bat gone be- fore;" they have crossed the narrow stream ofd^ath, and have reached the Paradise of rest and peace before as, where they are now waiting the dawn of that eternal day, when they, together with us, shall be made perfect at the appearance of oar com- mon Savioar.
And how much instraction does this portion of scriptore contain 1 If oar hopes be sach as we have endeavoured to describe, '^ what manner of persons ought we to be, in all holy conversation and godli- ness V Oh ! what separation from the world, what fixing of his affections opon things above, what hum- ble perseverance in the path of devoted obedience, should the believer in Jesus strenuously and con- stantly cultivate !— We are met in every page of scripture by the most powerful motives to constrain us to the practice of holy and unreserved obedience* The contents of revelation address themselves to every faculty and affection of our nature : oar me- mory and our hope are both arrested and engaged oil the side of holiness and virtue. The subject we have been contemplating in this chapter appeal^ to the latter, and impels us, by all the prospects of glory, and by ^11 the expected joys of immortality, to live soberly, righteously and godly, in %he present evil world. '* Wherefore, we receiving a kingdom which cannot be moved, let us have grace whereby
410 THE TRANSFIGURATION.
we may serve. God acceptably with reverence and godly fear^"
VL— The Subject of Conversation.
''And behold, there appeared unto them Moses and Elias, talking
with him."
There is one most important consideration con* nected with the appearance of Moset and Elias, which has been alladed to only in a general way by St. Matthew, but has been stated more distinctly by St. Lake, in his account of the transfiguration, in the ninth chapter of his gospel — the subject on which these two saints conversed with the Saviour. We are there told that they appeared' in glory, and spake of his decease which he should accomplish at Jem- salem. This circumstance will afford us material for some useful reflection. We shall not, hol^ever, enter into any doctrinal review of the death of Jesus ; we shall assume that all who follow us in these medita- tions are fully persuaded that he died as a ransom for the lost and ruined children of men, in order to, eflfect their reconciliation with God. We shall con- fine ourselves entirely to the circumstance as it is re- corded by St. Luke, that this was the subject of conversation which occupied the attention of the principal actors in this great and splendid scene.
And, may not some person be disposed to think that this was a strange and nnsui table subject oit which to speak, at a time when the sorrows and 8uf« fidrings of Jesus might seem to have been forgotten, or to have been lost in the overwhelming splendour of his glory on the mountain, and when he was en**
THE TRANSFIGURATION. 411
jo^^ing, as it appeared, a short respite from the griefs and anxieties of his hamiliation in the flesh. There surely coald have been no loss for other subjects of discourse. They might have entered upon a review of the wonderful work-s of God ; they might have conversed upon the splendour of the invisible world, upon the beauty and magnificence of the material creation ; they might have entered upon an exami- nation of the great outlines of history, in order to acquire deeper views of the character of, God, as it is displayed in the arrangements of his providence ; but the fact is, whatever we may be disposed at first to think, they selected the most important subject which could possibly have engaged their attention — one upon which the mind of Jesus loved to dwell, which possesses infinitely higher attractions to the Sariour than all the glory of the world, upon which the re- deemed members of his church shall never cease to meditate, and to which they shall trace the enjoyment of their highest privileges throughout eternity.
It should here be noticed, that the word which is employed by St. Luke, and which is translated * de- cease,' may more strictly be rendered * his Exodus.' They did not converse upon the subject of the Sa- viour's death without reference likewise to its issue and design. They spake of his sufferings on the cross in their consummation ; of his decease as the passage out of these sufferings into glory. And, indeed, it is only thus that we can derive comfort from conversing on the death of Jesus. Considered in itself, it is gloomy and mysterious; all is dark and dismal around the cross of Calvary : but when we thiuk of the death of Jesus as the gate through which he passed into that state of exaltation at the right hand of God to
412 THE TRAKSFIGURATION.
whioh he has ascended for the beoeOtof.his people, we mast -feel deeply and intei^sely interested when we reflect upon his cross and passion, his agony and his bloody sweat.
And no wonder that Moses and Ellas should have been ready to engage in this subject of conyersation^ for it was one in which they themselves were most deeply concerned. The death of Christ was the cause of their redemption, and the glory in which they appeared was the result of that sacrifice which had been arranged by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God. Moses and Elias were saved by grace, and not by works. It is true of the most distinguished saints whose histories have been written for our instruction, as well as of every member of the human family, that by the deeds of the law there can no flesh be justified in the sight of God. Although the law was given by Moses, he was not saved by it, but only by that grace and truth which came by Jesns Christ, who is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth. Although Elias was chief among the prophets, yet his prophecies were only valuable as, a light to lead him to the Savioar, of whom Moses in the law and the prophets spake, for the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy. None have ever entered into the paradise of God ex- cept through that new and living way which Christ hath consecrated for the guilty when he died upon the cross. Those who stand before the throne of God, are there, because they haTC washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. * And the subject of his own death, which he was shortly to accomplish at Jerusalem, was one on which the Saviour himself delighted to dwell. Even before
THE TRANSFIGURATION. 4 IS
he made 'himself of tio reputation, his langaage in reference to his anticipated sufferings on the cross as a sacrifice for transgression, was this : — *' I delight to do thy will, O my God/' And after he had as^ sumed our nature, in order that he might become capable of suffering, his willingness to die appeared more distinctly as he approached the scene of his crucifixion, and that which he uttered with such affecting emphasis on one occasion, was but the ex* pression of the inflexible and unvarying purpose of bis mind, — ^* I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how am I straitened until it be accomplished ! " Jesus was not a reluctant victim. No monarch ever yet ascended a throne with greater willingness than he ascended the cross : nor did he climb the mount of glory with more readiness of mind than he went up the solemn hill of suffering : nor did he endure his sufferings with less reluctance than he conversed up6n them ! Oh no ! there was too much depending on the issue of that tragic scene ! On the cross were bung the destinies of man ! and when the Saviour died, the tremendous battle was brought to an issue, by which l^e obtained eternal redemption for us.
But the death which Christ accomplished at Jeru- salem was an event in which the entire human family were interested. Let us not adopt narrow and con- tracted views of the love of God in the gift of a Sa- viour. The whole world was contemplated by the death of Jesus, for thus it was written — ** God was in Christ reconciling the world onto himself.'' By the shedding of the Saviour's blood our sins were atoned for, and our pardon was obtained ; and all that is now necessary, is that men should believe this gra- cious intelligence, and look unto Christ by faith^ and
414 THE TRANSFIGURATION.
be saved. When sinners tbas look to Jesas, the par-* don which he procared on the cross, and which be holds in trast for men, and is exalted at the right hand of God to bestow, becomes their personal pos- session,— and being justified by faith, they have peace with God. It is trae, there are men who refuse to acknowledge Jesus as their Saviour ; but this cannot neutralize or in' any way affect the amazing love of God in the gift of his Spn to the world. Though all mankind were finally lost, still it would remain as the imperishable motto of the everlasting gospel, that ** God so loved the world that he gave his only-be- gotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life.'' May we not sup- pose that for this very reason it was arranged that ' Jesus should suffer under the canopy of Heaven, upon the summit of a hill, that there might be an un- obstructed and conspicuous view of bis crucifixion, so as symbolically to shew that God's redeeming mercy was intended to be an object of universal ob- servation, which might be seen from every quarter of the world ? Let us not, then, stand before the cross to hide it from the view of any, but let us lie in hu- mility and amazement at the Saviour's feet, and in- vite all men to look for salvation unto him that hath loved us, and hath washed us from our sins in his own blood.
How impressively are we taught by this part of the history of our blessed Saviour's transfiguration to lay aside all fear of death, and frequently to anticipate in our meditations our removal from this present life ! The apostle Peter speaks of death as a putting off of a tabernacle ; the apostle Paul speaks of believers who die, as falling asleep in Jesus : and in the his-
THE TRANSFIGURATION. 415
tory we have been contemplatingy even the agoniziog deaib which the Saviour endured* is described by a term of peouliar mildness, an Exodus, And well may we thus speak of this subject, for to those who die in the Lord, death is a regeneration, and the boor of their departure from this present scene is the time of their new birth into a blessed immortality. There is, however, enough of solemnity in the transactions of a dying hour, to impart to our frequent ^medita- tions thereon the most salutary influence. Reflec- tions on death would give a tone of calm sobriety to oar minds, correct and regulate our attachments to this world, and keep us in a state of watchfulness and prayer. In the time, especially, of much spi- ritual enjoyment, we should frequently think upoi^ our latter end, as Christ has' left us an example, who spake, on the mount of his glory, of that decease which he was shortly to accomplish at Jerusalem. And as we should meditate upon the bright prospects that await us, whenever we are overwhelmed by the pressure of present aflSictions, lest we should be ut- terly cast down, so whenever we are in a state of ele- vated spiritual joy, we should meditate upon the cer- tainty and nearness of dissolution, in order that we may not be exalted above measure by the abundance of those manifestations of the presence of our God which may have been graciously vouchsafed to us.
Let us likewise be incited by this portion of sacred . history, to seek for a deeper acquaintance with the great mystery of redeeming love. The inhabitants of Heaven desire to dwell upon this all-absorbing theme; and never are the faculties of the highest angel more tried and tested than when they come into contact with this subject, which none but God him-
416 THE TRANSFIGURATION.
self can fully comprehend. The immensity of space is a great subject, bat the immensity of the love of God in the gift of his Son, to die for the gailty, is an infinitely greater. The death of Christ is the great centre and pivot, around which all the purposes of eternal mercy revolve. It brought together all the attributes of God into one magnificent point of con- centration, for the exhibition of a love to man which shall never be extinguished ; for the light that shines from the cross of Emmanuel does not resemble the brightness of a star, which diminishes as it travels on its path through space, but sheds the same amount <of glory upon the most remote of this world's genera- tions, as it did upon those who felt its first and new- born rays as they came fresh from the sacred heart of Jesus. Oh ! let us then seek to know more of this great truth. Moses and Elias had often spoken and testi- fied about it, but here they seem as if they would not lose the opportunity of drawing information from the fountain-head of divine love. May we be enabled by the Holy Spirit to meditate profitably on this great subject! and may our meditations issue in a greater manifestation of love to him ! Thus shall we be pre- pared for the engagements of an eternal world, where our happiness shall be to join in the song of the re- deemed— ** Unto him that loved us and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father, to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen,*'
(To be continued in our nexU}
417
AN EVENING HYMN.
When the last steps of liDg'ringf day
Are fading in the west away.
And gloomy evening over all
The landscape, spreads her fun'ral pall ;
Then, O my Saviour, may I be
Still seen, and heard, and known of Tbee —
Upon my darkling pathway shine.
And fill me with thy light divine.
Ere sinking in the arms of sleep, May I my day-light follies weep ; Not with repentance light and vain, Of which I mast repent again ; —
Bat with that lasting change of mind
Which every folly casts behind ;
Which calls me from my sin away, j,
Hears no excase, brooks no delay. >
if
Thas cleans'd from guilt, thus '' pure in heart.
The blest assurance, Lord, impart.
That thine own promise e'en to me
Shall firmly stand,— <* Thoa God shalt see/'
Then come what will— betide what may.
Not hell itself can take away
The joyful thought; the Christian's night
Is brighter than the world's daylight.
Peter tfield. S. W. H.
May, 1840. S E
418
THE LAST DAYS OF JEAN LOUIS M D.
BY AN EYE-WITMBSS.
Maky families of piety and of consideratioD in the
country where Mr. Jean Louis M d lived and
died, are witnesses to the truth of the facts which we lay before our readers. We mean, however, those readers who, in their search after truth, examine carefully into the impressions which the soul of man receives, when in those circumstances where it is least liable to deception.
Mr. Jean Louis M d was twenty-seven years of
age, unmarried, and the son of one of the magistrates
of the town of N n. He had been suffering for
about six years from a pulmonary disease of compli- cated character, which had now reached its last stage* He had been tenderly nursed by his family, which was a numerous and united one ; and was the object of much interest among his fellow « townsmen. He was a young man of an impartial and unbiassed disposition, and of regular and studious habits. But unfortunately be had searched for wisdom in the books of the French encyclopedists, and subsequently m the conversation of German rationalists* Their pretensions to stoical beroisip, and their false and de- ceiving criticisms, had implanted in the heart of the young invalid the deep roots of unbelief and philoso* phical pride. Even to the last month of his |ife» be
JEAN LOUIS M D. 419
denied the necessity of a Saviour, regarding the doc- trine as incompatible with the moral condition of his soul, and the perfections of his God. Few of those who sarroanded him had attempted to combat his fatal error, and none of them had succeeded in en- lightening his mind either directly or indirectly ; not even when they brought to him two men as remark- able for their reputation of gentle charity as for the distinguished works they have published to advance the kingdom of Christ. Indeed, he had even began to shew a distaste to some among his own relations or friends, who had lately become engrossed in the study of the gospel. They therefore endeavoured to confine their care and attention to the bodily neces- sities of the poor sufferer ; at the same time they did ii(^t cease to entreat the Lord, that He would cause His light to shine into his heart, in order to the sal- vation of his soul.
One of his sisters, whose affectionate attentions were peculiarly welcome to him, attempted yet once again, when quite alone with him^and when his sick- ness had nearly reached its close, to win him to seek the intercession of Christ between himself and the eternal God ; and to meditate on His perfect holiness, and the love which he shewed towards us in the sacrifice of himself upon the cross. ' Do you not be- lieve in it,' she asked, with the most anxious soliei- tode ? ' No ; I do not believe it,' he abswered, al- most stifled by his excessive emotion. ' I know that I must soon die. I belieVe in God-- 1 often pray to Him as a Saviour, but I never can believe in a divine Saviour becoming man— the Almighty had no need to send us one upon earth : therefore let us say no more on the subject.' Shortly afterwards, a crisis
8 E 2
420 JEAN LOUIS M D.
came on, more alarming than any be had yet experi- enced. For the first time, he felt the inevitable ap- proach of death, and the probability of not living to the end of that day. His family then beheld him lift up his hands toward heaven with earnest supplica- tions and tears*
God spared him through that day of painful suffer- ing. A few days afterwards he expressed, for the first time, a strong desire to read the scriptures, and lamented his having so long deferred examining into them attentively. Many among his friends offered to read the sacred volume aloud to him ; but this he re- fused, alleging that his extreme weakness would make listening a fatigue to him : besides which, he said, that he should wish to pause and meditate over every sentence which required any effort of thought. He had a kind of reading-desk made by a joiner, which was placed across his bed, which he now never quitted; and it was so constructed as to hold the Book of Life open before him at those places where he desired to read. Whilst reading in this manner, he had not strength to listen to any conversation ; his hearing even was indistinct, and his voice almost gone. At times such words as these escaped from his lips : * How powerful ! how convincing ! how sublime ! and yet what simplicity 1 ' But, alas ! he did not yet say^ * I need a Saviour ; ' and even his reading was often disturbed by a return of those fits of petulance and murmuring, to which, during the latter period of his illness, h'e had appeared subject.
On th« Friday evening of the 7th of April, at the hour when every one, excepting the sick man, was accustomed to retire to rest, after having read the scriptures with more composure than usual, he ex-
JEAN LOUIS M B. 421
pressed an earnest wisb to pray with his family, and with one of the ministers of the parish. As he was getting weaker and weaker, his request was at once attended to. The minister of Christ came, and knelt down in prayer with him, every member of his family who were then present joining with him. Soon after the dying man, seeing all his friends assembled around him, and weeping, said, * My dear parents, dry your tears. I die a Christian. It is Jesus him- self who has made me one. Oh, what do I not owe to this merciful God who has thus sought me! I have done nothing towards knowing Him. He alone has drawn me. What astonishing mercy ! Already do I see my Saviour's arms open and ready to receive / me. My heavenly Father appointed me a trial. I was about to murmur, and my murmurs have been turned into thanksgivings. How he crowns me with blessings! Oh, my God ! how I thank thee for thus giving me a foretaste of everlasting happiness ! No, I can never thank thee as I ought ! I am leaving this earth to inhabit those mansions where is the ful- ness of joy for ever!' And in this manner, an un- hoped-for power was given him, that bis family might receive comfort in his death. His voice, till then almost inarticulate, had now become, clear and dis- tinct; and his dim eye, and death-like countenance, appeared lighted up with hope and love.
On the following day, he entreated his affectionate mother to forgive him for all the impatience and petulance which he had shewn during bis illness. He earnestly begged the younger members of the family to read one chapter in the Bible every day : ' You will soon think this too little,' he added. He besought them also to pray night and morning, and
'422 JEAN LOUIS M D.
to attend the preaching of the gospel everjr sabbath. ^Yon will do this at first from doty/ he said, 'bat yerjr soon from inclination, and because you have become sensible of yoar own need. Do not fear laughter or ridicule. God's claims most be first at- tended to. I have neglected these duties daring many years.' One of his relations said to him, < the atmosphere of the church was too. cold for you to bear daring the years of your illness and languor.' * Oh, no,' he answered, * it was because I did not know God. I did not think of Him; but He in His mercy has sought me.' He then had the servants called to his bedside, and earnestly exhorted them to look to God and to His word for help and comfort. They were so amazed at the wonderful change in him, and at bis high and holy expression, that in an- swer to those who called at the house to inquire after the poor invalid, they said, ' God himself has come down into this house to-day.' This was an expres- sion quite foreign to their daily habits, as well as many others which they made use of to express their astonishment, and which were drawn from them by the force of truth, and spoken before several witnesses differing in opinion among themselves.
A friend of the family, who had known the sick man in the days of his unbelief, when his infidel opi- nions had been the cause of their separation, heard on the following day, that is, on the Saturday, the account of the beginning of this conversion, the de- tails of which, with the help of other witnesses, he has collected and written down.
Being a layman, be had never met with so surpris- ing an instance of conversion, or one so rapidly de- veloped. He also heard that many in the town attri-
JKAN LOUIS M ^D. 423
bated it to the disturbed imagination of one broaght low by saffering and diet; and that others, again, thoQght this change of opinions was owing to the in- fluence of a person placed near hi in as a nurse, and who was a decided Christian, but who, the family had every reason to believe, had never spoken on the subject of religion to the sick man. The latter, even since he had began to read the scriptures, still spoke of this woman, who had often prayed for him, as of one exalted above her deserts. He had himself chosen her to attend upon him, merely on account of her gentleness and watchfulness ; and it was only daring the last few days of his life that he did her fall justice.
This friend came to see him with a deep feeling of joy, desiring at the same time to .examine atten- tively into his state. He found him sitting up in bed on account of his difiSculty of breathing. His back was curved and his head bent with suffering, and every feature deeply furrowed by the livid hand of death; yet his eyes were continually un- closed and lifted up to heaven, beaming with the light of gratitude and hope. The expression of his 'mouth was often changed from that of acute agony to that of joyful rapture. His pale emaciated face was like that of one already dead, with the expression of an angel upon it. The dying man thanked his friend for all the affectionate attentions he had shewed him during his illness. He asked after his family, who were all deeply interested about himself, and forgot none.
He continued to comfort those who were weeping around him. ' You have,' said he, ' a son and a bro- ther, whom Christ has made His own — what happi- ness ! what glory ! My joy is so great it almost over-
.424 JEAN LOUIS M ^D.
powers me, and yet it continaes to increase. I shall see God face to face — and, oh ! this increasing Ught ! how shall I bear it! Bat Jesas will be there. He will lead me ; He will present me to my heavenly Father ; He will teach me to love Him much more I ' One of his sisters, desiring to know if he trasted for salvation to grace alone, withont any mixture of self- righteousness, read to him this passage from the book of Revelation : " Blessed are the dead which die in the Lojd from henceforth : yea saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours ; and theif works do follow them." He who had always led a correctly moral life, but whose conversion was but of yester" day, answered : 'I have done no works; oh no, none ! all is grace on God's part — yes, grace upon grace, and never can there be a return ! '
Another person inquired of him, if there were not a little spiritual pride in this rejoicing ? He replied, ' I was in darkness, not knowing God, two days ago, and I am now dying ! God has done all ; It few rao« ments more, aiid I should have been lost J knew Him not — He jt was who remembered me, and sent His Son to seek me. My happiness is so great, that it would annihilate me, if Jesus were not present with me. He sustains me alike in my suffering and in my joy.'
The friend who is writing these words exactly as they were spoken, had returned several times to in- quire after him, but could not be admitted on the third day into the dying man's chamber, where tb^ number of assembled relations and friends appeared to the medict^l attendant already too great. Yet^ though surrounded by all those dearest to him* of his own accord, he thought of sending for one, whose
JEAK LOUIS H ^D. 425
visit, bat three days before, would have been irksome to him ; and when his friend entered the room, the dying man looked at him and said, * We are friends now ; and, though I am on my death-bed, it is not too late, for we are now friends to all eternity! '
He then spoke to the younger members of his family, addressing himself to them in a manner most appropriate to the eircumstances and dispositions of each, with a self-possession and a wisdom which plainly shewed the renewal of his moral powers. He sought, in recalling the past, to arouse their feel- ings, that he might lead them to the Author of all grace. He spoke to them also of the dangers and of the shortness of their future life in this world, so as to leave an enduring impression of the fear of God upon their minds, and awaken in them a desire to understand his word, and to obtain eternal life through the only Saviour given to men. If it is to be regretted that the facts and the truths which he brought before them in a way as judicious as it was kind, cannot be here noted in detail, it is to be hoped that they will remain deeply engraven upon the hearts of those young persons and children to whom they were ad- dressed by the dying man, when taking leave of them as he did, in the most affectionate manner. He gave Thomas k Kempis to one of them, saying at the same time, * You will soon prefer a better book to this.' He ordered that all his personal effects, and every thing he had worn during his illness should be care- fully burnt, to avoid all danger of contagion. When his relations drew near to support him in his changes of position, daring his violent returns of spasmodic pain, be would not allow them to touch him, unless they wore^ gloves. Every moment of ease, however,
426 JEAN LOUIS M ^D.
was employed either in giving useful directions as to the arrangement of his affairs, or still more frequently was the interval spent in thanksgiving, or in recount- ing to others the circumstances of his wonderful con- version. He never forgot the respect due to the difference of age : for to the elders he would say, that he was much in prayer for them ; and that they need not fear but that his prayers together with their own, would be heard and answered. He had prayed, he said, that they might all one day meet in heayen ; and, he added, that his Saviour had obtained every thing of his Father for him, and much more than he had ever asked : for he had never hoped to live long enough to see all those of bis relations who were absent; and yet God had mercifully prolonged his life till they had all arrived, and had allowed him sufficient strength to take leave of every one of them. The fervour of his devotions forcibly impressed us with the fact, that his spirit had not for one instant languished in a dead faith, or in a cold and incom- plete admission of the Christian's tenets : he only believed in his Saviour during the last week of bis life, but it was with his whole soul, as in his only refuge ; and his new-born faith produced in this short season, the fruits of an advanced sanctifioation.
At those moments when his acute agony returned, he prayed, and called upon his. friends to pray for him. When the minister of Christ was present, he asked him to read the scriptures and to pray. ' It is never too much for me,' he said ; * I hear it all, though I suffer so intensely.' This faithful pastor explained to him some passages, the difficulties of which had been to others the occasion of grievous doubts ; but he answered, < I have received all, I
JEAN LOUIS M ^D. 427
believe all. Oh, this agony ! God grant that it may destroy this miserable body, and it shall rise again one day in strength and glory/ After a short silence, he continued, * It is passing away, this agony ; it is Christ who has taken it from m^. I hoped that I should die; but God does not yet think my faith strong enough ; he prolongs the suffering, and with it the necessity of prayer, and I bless him for it. Ob, gracious Saviour! the trial continues, increase the faith ! '
Then turning to one of his friends, who, after an absence, had come to see him, he said, ^ Yon find me still suffering, after six years of illness ; but what is that compared to the endless happiness which awaits me. Come also to Jesus, that you may die the death of the righteous. Oh, my God ! what thanks do I not owe thee ! It is wonderful ! I suffer to the degree that I lose my eye- sight, and yet my joy surpasses even my suffering. What happiness will be mine !'— an eternity of happiness ! can you under> stand this ? Oh no, yon cannot yet understand it. Soon I shall see God I Oh, what an awful name ! I hardly dare pronounce it ; it is so sacred ! And can I approach him ? such an one as I am ? Oh no, ex- cept through his blessed Son, my Saviour ! ' A person near him, struck with astonishment at seeing him experience so many and such varied feelings, asked him if he were quite sure that God alone inspired him with such confidence and joy? ' How can you ask such a question? ' he replied, * do yon think my conversion could be the work of man ? No, God alone has performed this wonderful work.^
The following night was a very painful one. In order to calm his great agonies his family were obliged
428 JEAN LOUIS M D.
to give him a soporific pill, which formerly he had been in the habit of taking, but which latterly he had refused. When he awoke, he saw one of his sisters near him, whose religions opinions had, -in former days, caused him to feel estranged from her, and to avoid her, though now they drew him closer to her. He said to her, ' I have passed a very bad night ; they gave me a pill which I ought not to have taken: I ought to have feared losing my senses during my last moments, and not devoting them entirely to my Saviour. No; I will take no more of them. To have been so near death this night, and yet to have slept ! I ought not to have slept. I did as the dis- ciples of the Lord, who slept instead of praying with him the last night. I thought I saw your little girl last night, she whom God has taken back. She smiled on me. Do you hear, my sister ? Yes, I saw her with Jesus, whose arms were stretched out to re- ceive me ! Oh what peace there is to be found in him ? I carry away with me the assurance that yon will teach those children who remain to you, to know and to fear him/
The day before his death, hearing us speak of the fine weather, he had his bed moved close to the window, that he might look, for the last time, upon the lake, and upon the mountains ; he at first fancied that his eyes had lost the power of taking in this magnificent distance ; casting, however, a second look towards them, he exclaimed, * I see them, and my dear, dear country also. But I am going to leave it for one still more beautiful and far more dearly loved, where the sun never sets. Perhaps this night I shall fall asleep, and soon we shall all wake up in eternal light, never more to be separated.'
JEAN LOUIS M D. 429
In the, afternoon be experienced the most intense agony. both of body and mind, and be asked for the minister of Christ to come and pray with him, and talk to him of our Lord's safferings. Some who were near begged the minister to read a sermon, or some treatise on the subject; but he replied, that the words of scripture bad alone power to calm and support the dying man. He saw him suffering, agitated, often interrupting the reading, by calling out for prayer, till the minister read and applied to the temptation which troubled him the words of our Saviour, in the 22nd of Luke 31st and 92nd verses : — ** Behold, Satan bath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat ; but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not/' The dying man, who had already lost sight of one of his eyes, asked to have his finger placed on this passage: and at once peace returned, and he gave thanks to God for having restored to him the joy of his salvation ; shewing at the same time his affection and gratitude to his minister. Ardently desiring to hasten to the presence of his Saviour, he, from time to time, offered his pulse to his father to feel if it gave any symptom of approaching death. 'Does it still beat?* he exclaimed, as his dreadful agonies increased. *Yes, still, my dear child,' an- swered his father, ' but let not your courage and your resignation fail ; do not seek to shorten mo- ments which are the means of edifying all who are about you ; your words are so delightful, they do good to all who have the happiness of hearing them.' ' Do you think they do good to any one, my father? I bless God for it.*
The struggle of the youthful body against its dis- solotion still shewed itself in him by the conflict of
430 JEAN LOUIS M D.
intense sofferin^, in every faeolty, or rather it was the life ol tbe spirit which protracted till the follow-- ing day the life of a body in which the work of dealli and even of decomposition had already oommenced. He said he was glad to know that his friends were near him, but that he wished to pray alone, and witit^ oat any thing to distract his tbonghts, because he desired that his Saviour should find him in prayer at the last moment. He again took leave of all who were present. Another violent fit of coughing and of spasms now came on, after which he presented his pulse for the last time to his father, saying, < Bear father, does it still beat?' 'Still a little, my son.' < What o'clock is it?' < Half-past twelve.' < Still a few moments longer of suffering ; and what is that ! My Saviour had many worse even in Gethsemane, when he was praying for me. Farewell, father, you will soon follow me.' ' Yes, my son, yet a few more years, and I shall join you.' * No, dear father, you will follow me very soon. Farewell ! I am going to rest in the arms of Jesus I ' We thought we still heard these words : — " Receive my spirit." He slept in the Lord, after remaining the last hour perfectly calm, and lying in his father's arms.
It was five days after the avowal of his conversion, on the 12th of April, that he died, about two o'clock in the afternoon, aged 27 years ; and on the 21st of tbe same month his father, who was a remarkably strong and healthy man, and wjiose faculties, filling, as he did, the oflice of magistrate, were perfectly un- impaired, died at the age of 70, of a bilious and inflammatory disease, the commencement of which the physicians dated from the evening of his son's death. He, together with his wife^ had nursed with
JEAN LOUIS M D. 481
resignation and tenderaess the son wliose death they had long foreseen. He had appeared to concentrate within himself the sarpriee and emotions which the striking conversion of the young man had given rise to. The father, of a robust constitution and of a lively temperament, passed the eight days of an acute illness with the greatest patience, in the midst of his family, God supporting them under these two severe trials. The last days of the father, to our great sur- prise, were filled with the same Christian thoughts which had occupied those of his son.
The compiler of this short account has not put his name to it, because it would have been the means of mailing known the family to which this interesting young man belonged. If, however, contrary to all Expectations, any difficulty should arise relating to the facts which he has related in simple truth, he should think it right to answer them by naming himself.
1
482
THINGS OF OLD. No. III.
THB WORLD BEFORE THE FLOOD.
The antedilavian world has been a fruitfal subject to tiiat race of happy dreamers commonly called poets. They have reyelled amidst their own creations of war, love, treachery, rapine, &c. &c. and hare very ingenionsly adapted them to the slight bat strikiog notices which holy writ affords of that mysterioas period. Many of their beaatiful or wild effasions are probably known to my readers ; but perhaps they are not so well acquainted with the still extant, pro- fane history of the old world.
Sanchoniatho the Phoenician, however, sapplies as with a detail of the g^enerations and the events in the line of Cain ; ahd though his narrative be somewhat scanty, yet it is not only valuable, but also reconcil- able to the still briefer notices of scripture ; as both Bishop Cumberland and the learned Faber have shewn, with great ingenuity and erudition.
Both the history and the very existence of San- choniatho have given rise to many disputes among the learned. It was the fashion with many Christian divines to deny that he ever wrote, or indeed lived, and to assert that Philo-Byblius or Porphyry in- vented both the historian and his liistory; because
THINGS OF OLD. 438
these philosophers used the Phcenician chronicle as an argoment against Christianity ; and it was there- fore concluded to be necessarily contrary to it Bat if the historic portion of the narrative can be recon- ciled to the Mosaic account of the antedilovian world, and proved to be the history of the line of Cain, why shonld we reject it ? If the weapons of oar enemies can be turned against themselves, and that with complete success, why should we throw them away, or bury them in the earth, instead of employing them to our own advantage ? The theo- logic portion of his details is indeed too absurd and wildly mytbologic to be reconciled to reason ; but as that is an argument that he was of an earlier date than the Platonic philosophers of the first and second century, so the coincidence of the historic part with scripture equally proves that the narrative is not an invention of Greek or Roman paganism.
The only supposition which we can entertain as to Sanchoniatho, is that he formed the first part of his chronicle from the absurd superstitions of his Phoenician countrymen, and added the hbtorical por- tion from certain traditions of primeval truth. Where he obtained these, Porphyry expressly tells us, for he says that Sanchoniatho drew much of his infor- mation from the records of Hierombalns, or Jerom- baal, priest of the god Jao ; and if we admit, what the learned Bochart has apparently proved, that this was Jerub-baal, or Gideon, a worshipper of Jab, or Jehovah, — then the part he derived from him, must have been that which is consonant to scripture.
It is much to be wished that Sanchoniatho'a his- tory existed in as perfect a form as those of other ancient writers; but the first book is the only re-
Mat, 1840. 2 P
484 THINGS OF OLD.
mains wbiob we possess of this ourions work, and that under inany disadvantages ; for it was first translated from the original Phoenician into Greek, by Philo, then quoted by Porphyry, and re-q noted from him by Ensebias, in whose Prteparatio Evange* lica we find it (lib. i. cap. 10.)
The date at which the author flourished has been variously fixed by different authors. Porphyry al- lows him to be later than Moses, but contemporary with Semiramis ; some place him about the time of David, and others would carry him back to the days of Gideon.
I shall pass over all the mystical theology of our author ; referring such of my readers as wish to be fully acquainted with his * evening chaos, — dark wind, — vivification by the sound of thunder,— watery heat, — spies of heaven,' — and so forth, to Eusebios himself. The Phoenician history is the part with which we are concerned ; and as Mr. Faber's inter- pretation, in his Dissertation on the Cabiri (vol. i.) seems to me more reasoilable than that of Bishop Cumberland, in those points where they differ, I shall endeavour to make my readers acquainted with it in the best and briefest manner I can, space for- bidding me to give both explanations.
The father of all mankind, says Sanchoniatho, was named Protogomus ; and his wife was Eon, who first gathered fruit from trees. Surely none will deny that we have here Adam and Eve ; for Protogomus signifies first-made^ and probably by such a name Adam was usually known to his descendants; for we do not find any proper name given him in scrip- ture, Adam merely signifying the man. Eon is merely a Greek form of Eve, the V being frequently
THING3 OF OLP. 435
omitted in foreign names; and the gathering of fmit would stamp the identity, even without this singnlar coincidence.
The children of this pair were Genos and Genea; who commenced the worship of the sun, in a season of great drought, holding up their hands to him, and calling him * Lord of heaven/
I must here observe that Philo has sometimes translated the Phoenician names occurring in his author, and at other times has only added Greek ter« minations to them ; so that we are often at a loss to guess what may have been the original meaning of the names, and most discover it for ourselves, from their similarity to Hebrew.
Mr. Faber observes that Genus is Cain or Gain, with a classical termination added to it. His wife we may imagine to have named herself from him ; and their invocation of the sun is not an unnatural consequence of Cain's profane resentment, for his banishment ** from the presence of the Lord." Gen. iv. 16. The children of Genus were named Light, Fire, and Fiame^ and they invented the mode of pro- curing fire, by rubbing dry sticks together. Hence probably their names arose, if not from their parents' worship of the fiery god. Their sons were robbers and giants, named Cassins, &c. and dwelt in the mountains bearing their names. This is sufiiciently explained by the '* violence " and corrupt state of mankind mentioned in Geo. vi. 4, 5.
The next generation consisted of Memrumos Usous, and one named High-and-heavenly, whose mothers were of abandoned character; (see Gen. vi. 5, 11, 12.) Memrumus, whose name seems to be formed from the Hebrew word signifying exalted, was the inventor
s F 2
4S6 THINGS OF OLD.
of rash bouses, and of the ase of the papyros. Usoaa appears to be another Hebrew word, meaning' a workman; and the idea is supported by Sanohoni- atho's description of him, as the first man who made a boat. It Was formed from the trank of a tree, and he pat to sea in it from Tyre, haying quarrelled with his brother. Tyre originally means a roek^ and the name is therefore applieable to any rook-foonded city. On Usous' return from this first of voyages, he erected two pillars, and consecrated them to Wind and Fire.
After these lived the Hunter, who invented the chase ; and the Fisher, who first practised the art of Ashing. One of these was the father of a person named Golden, who had two sons, the Artificer and the Earthy, or Peasant. These can be no other than Tubal-Cain, the ** instructor of every artificer in brass and iron," and Jabal, ^* the father of such as dwelt in tents, and have cattle." Gen, iv. 20,22. These two persons had each a son called the Husbandmen ; and Mr. Faber considers them to be only duplicates of one great Husbandman, who was doubtless Noah himself. The scriptural genealogy of Cain's line stops at TubaKCain, where it was probably swept off by the deluge ; and therefore our Phoenician crosses over at once to the line of Seth. Faber says, ' In the person of this husbandman we ^ may conceive the second part of the genealogy to commence ; the eight generations preceding him being antediluvian, and corresponding to the eight generations of the family Cain." (JDusert. on the Cabiri. vol. i. p. 47.)
It is remarkable that Sanchoniatho makes no men- tion of the deluge; he seems to have been aware that it was a judgment on the sins of that race whose
THINGS OF OLD. 487
bistory be was writing ; and anxious to omit sach a blot on their memories, be steps to the line of Seth, and boldly asserts Noah to bave been tbe son of Tubal-Cain. Perhaps be was a yoanger man ; which might give some colour to this statement.
This Husbandman, Sanchoniatho says, was wor- shipped by the Phoenicians, and his shrine was drawn about by a yoke of oxen. Noah, we know, was ex- tensively worshipped after the flood, particularly in Phoenicia. Our author adds that the persons of that generation were called Aletoe (fire -worshippers) and Titans (diluvians), and their children were Aroynus and the Magician. We may well doubt, with Mr. Faber, ' whether they are two distinct persons ; ' the Magician * seems to be only a descriptive title of Amynos,* which name is * evidently the Am-on of the Egyptians, under which title the scriptural Ham seems to have been usually worshipped.' (page 44.) Their sons were Misor and Sydyk. Misor is without doubt Misraim, the son of Ham ; but Sydyk is pro- nounced by Faber to be Noah again, under a new name. Sanchoniatho says that Sydyk's children were seven in number, and were called Dioscuri, Cabiri, &c. They built the first complete ship that was ever navigated ; from them descended a genera- tion who discovered the use of medicinal herbs. Our Phoenician's first gi'eat error is the omission of the flood, and his second is in calling Sydyk the son of Amynus. The name is totally without meaning in Greek, but is evidently the Hebrew 2^yk (the just), the peculiar title given to Noah, Oen. vi. 11 ; and Philo confirms this, by translating Sydyk as * the righteous.' The children of this person ' are said to be seven in number ; the family of Noah,, preserved
48d THINGS OF OLD.
with him in the ark, were also precisely seven in number. They are also said to have built the first ship.' (p. 56.) Sorely this history of Sydyk's family is conclasive as to the identity of Sydyk himself.
So mnch for the real human persons of Sanchoni- atho's history. A long^ allegorical tale follows, which I omit, as it does not concern the antedilavian world. Bat there is one part of it to which I mast alladoy in order to give Faber's admirable exposition. In the days of Sydyk, our Phoenician says, lived Elim Hyp- sistus, who dwelt, #ith his wife Beruth, near By bias, and had a son called Heaven, who married his own sister, whose name was £arth. * Elim is evidently a mere variation of Hebrew Eloah (God); consequently when connected with Hypsistns, it will signify God the Most High.' (p. 67.) ' Sanchoniatho therefore does not attempt to enumerate hisi progenitors, but simply observes that this personage, who was the father of Heaven and Earth, flourished in the days of Sydyk. The reason why he is thus said to have been his contemporary, seems to be on account of his having exerted his power in a more tremendous and peculiar manner at that period than at any other.' (p. 69.)
Beruth is evidently Berith, (the covenant), Gen. ix. 8, 11. ' In the usual strain of oriental allegory,* the solemn, inviolable covenant of God is personified by a female, who is described as His consort' (p. 69.)
The explanation giveh by Mr. Faber of this curious narrative may be summed up in the following table, compiled from some of his own.
ALLEGORICAL PERSONS.
Elim Hypsistns . God Most High.
Beruth . • . . The covenant.
THINGS OF OLD. 439
REAL PERSONS.
Protogomas and Eon . Adam and Eve. Genus and Genea . . Gain and his wife. Light, Fire, and Flame . Enoch and his brethren. Gassins, &c. • . . Irad and his brethren. MemramusUsoas,High-and- Mehujael and his bre-
heavenly . . • thren.
The Hunter, the Fisher . Methusael and his bre- thren. The Golden . . . Lamech. The Artificer and the Peasant Tubal-Gain and Jabal. The Husbandman . • Noah. The Aietoe and Titans . His contemporaries. Sydyk .... Noah. His sons the ship-builders Shem, Ham, Japheth. Amynus the Magician . Ham. Misor • • ... Mizraim. Sons of the Gabiri . . Sons of Shem, &c.
Thus we see that this author, so carefully trans- lated, and so triumphantly quoted against Christian- ity, by his fellow-pagans, ,is compelled to bear a distinct and full, though not yery yoluminous testi- mony, to some of the most minute, incidental notices of the word of God ; while, by passing over the deluge and other more striking facts, he has attempted to disguise the antediluvian history, and hand it down as the records of his native Phoenicia.
X, Q.
440
FEMALl^ BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
SARAH.
No- IV.
That is a pecoliar discipline, and one apparently instituted with a special adaptation to the constitu- tion of the hiunan mind ; which enjoins upon the expectants of every blessing, whether temporal or spiritaal, the necessity of a patient waiting for the same. The husbandman after he has sown the pre- cious grain, " waiteth and bath long . patience " for its slow developement and for the gradual maturing of its full-ripe fruit. The parent assiduously labour- ing to instil the first principles of knowledge, wisdom and virtue into the awakening mind of a cbild^ la- bours in hope of that reward which he must neverthe- less wait for. Wherever we look around, we behold the sons of humanity in a posture. of expectation. What is the student about, in that dim cbamber> where the light of day can scarcely penetrate, and where, when the stars are keeping their silent watches, the faint gleam of the taper gives token of the vigil within ? He is waiting for the fruit of knowledge ; that fruit of exotic extraction and delicious flavour, for which his soul is athirst. The man of ambition — what does he, stooping to importune the mean, to bribe the covetous, to smile upon the lowly, to flatter
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE. 441
the proad ? He is waiting for the reins of dominioDy for the robes of dignity, for the appellatives of re- nown. And what is the Christian aboat, while che* rishing a plant, that to-day bads forth and gives token of life and vigour, to-morrow droops and withers to the very root? He is waiting <<for the hope of righteousness by faith." The good, the cherished good of his soul is the hope of righteousness. The ardent, irrepressible desire of his mind is to be holy. But he has to wait for it ; and through many painful alternations of feeling he is now called to grieve over the vanishing away of that which seems like a mirage to fly from his approaches, and now to rejoice over some earnest of its future full fruition.
It is this varying experience which seems to ex- plain the unequal walk of the children of God. To- day the hopes of a kingdom which they are waiting for, and to which their heirship is manifest, gives uprightness to their carriage and loftiness to their aims, and they " walk worthy of it.'' To-morrow the abjectness of their present condition startles them* The crown, the sceptre, the royal robe seem mocke- ries,— illusions never to be realized. The pulse that beat so ardently, grows languid ; the soul droops her wing, and the cloud which settles upon the horizon of the future, throws a gloom over every present enr joy men t.
We see this exemplified In the history of Abram : the expected good which he waited to receive, was of a posterity distinguished above all nations of the earth by the divine favour and blessing, and of a descendant who should be the means of bringing the same interposifion of divine favour, the same rich- ness of divine blessing upon all the tribes of the
442 FBKALB BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
earth ; — yiet Abram continaed childless. And thoogh ID the main, his soal was anchored apon the pro- mises, we find him, in many instances, giving way to despondency, particularly at the commencement of his pilgrimage. Something of this is manifested, when, after his conquest of the invading kings of the east, and his generous refusal to partake of the spoil which was usually the award of the victor, Jehovah vouchsafed another revelation of himself to his ser- vant, specially adapted, it would seem, to existing circumstances, engaging to throw around him the shield of the omnipotent arm as his defence against all surprises of the enemy ; and to be himself the " exceeding great reward ** of the man who had shewn himself so nobly careless of earthly treasure. It was surely something to the stranger dwelling alone in a strange land with his peaceful herdsmen and home- born slaves, to be assured of a defence against the warrior tribes whose array he had routed in the first flush of victory, and whose retaliative vengeance he might justly fear. It was surely something to the man whose heart went not after covetoosness, to have a reward proffered him such as none but Deity could communicate, none but a justified and sancti- fled soul enjoy: but hear the language of Abram, and mark how the one prevailing desire unfulfilled tinges every other blessing with sadness. *' Abram said. Lord God, what wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless?'' What is to me the assurance of con- tinuance in the land, what the prospect of aggran- dizement, when he who shall inherit after me is bat the son of the stranger, the home-born in my tents ? In condescension to that misapprehension of the pro- mise, which the sickness of hope deferred had pro-
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE. 443
daced in the Patriarch's mind, Jehoyah distinctly de- clared that the inheritor of the blessings, temporal and spiritoal, promised to Abram, should be his own child, and not the son of his servant, and in a most mysterions and signal manner the Lord God ratified this declaration by a covenant with sacrifice; passing between the severed victims under the significant emblems of a smoking furnace and a lamp of fire, opening at the same time to the mind of the entranced Patriarch the windows of the future, and shewing him the triumphant entrance of his multiplied seed in the fourth generation, into a land which would then have become forfeit through the crimes of its inhabitants. It is upon the occasion of this memora- ble manifestation that we have the first notice given of that justifying faith which afterwards wrought such wondrous acts of obedience in the Patriarch, so that he even spared not his own son, but freely gave him up at the command of his God. It is recorded of Abram by the sacred historian, among the transac- tions of this great day of sacrifice, that *' he believed in the Lord, and he counted it to him for righteous- ness/' From this period, he staggered not at the promise of God. He no longer looked upon the son of the stranger as heir to all the benefits of the so« lemnly- ratified covenant, but waited in hope till the seed should appear to whom the promise was made. Oh! strange infatuation, of a weak and wayward nature, that even after this strong exercise of faith, this believing realization of the promise, Abram should have been drawn away to any indirect and unbidden methods of hastening its accomplishment ! If the patriarch, favoured as he was with the ma- nifested visions of Deity, and brought into close and
444 FBMALB BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
intimate union with the Most High, embraced after all only a partial view of the manner in which the divine purposes were to be accomplished; can we wonder that Sarai, whose faith was not so vigorous, and who had never as yet been personally included in any revelation of the divine word, as a sharer in the promises vouchsafed to her' husband: — can we wonder that, after ten years of hopeful waiting for the fulfilment of the testimony heard at Sichem, '* unto thy seed will I give this land,*' she should begin to question, if not the verity of the prediction itself, at least the particular mode of its accomplish- ment. It seems probable that, like her husband, she had come at last to conclude, that the heir-of Abram's temporal wealth and spiritual benediction would be a child of adoption, a tie which in most countries of the east was, and is to the present day, one of no secondary or inferior kind, but one which challenges equality, for strength and perpetuity, with the very bonds of nature itself. But when it pleased God to remove this misapprehension from the mind of Abi-am, by distinctly asserting in the vision at Hebron, that the heir should be his own offspring, and not the son of Eliezer, there was then another method of inter- preting the oracle, which to the eye of sense seemed plain' and easy, and which the wife of the Patriarch too hastily adopted, to her own' after anguish and remorse. The usages of her country allowed to the childless husband permission to take a wife of infe- rior class, who was not unfrequently selected from among the female slaves of his household ; and there- fore, partly perhaps through a proud resentment at the exclusion of her own name from the promises, partly through a mistaken belief that she was doing
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE. H$
God service by helping forward their accomplish- meoty we find Sarai influenclDg Abram to act in con- formity to the habits of his own and other neighboaring tribes, by contracting a marriage with her handmaid, Hagar the Egyptian. It is evident from the language which Sarai uses in giving this anwise, unwarranted, council to her husband, that it was the result of an impatience wearied with waiting for the ful61ment of the word of God* It was not as when, fourteen years afterwards, the feebleness and impotency of age seemed to have sealed her to perpetual barrenness, so that the annunciation, even from angelic lips, that she should liave a son, was received with an outbreak of incredulous laughter. At the period when she proposed this new alliance to Abram, there is no reason assigned, save a hasty and ungrounded asr sumption that, because God had hitherto denied, so he would still continue to deny to her the blessings of maternity. And with reasoning of a proud and disappointed spirit, Abram was induced to take that step in his history, which, as it was unauthorized and unsanctioned by his God, so it necessarily left him responsible for the aggravated evils that followed in its train. Like the first father of the human race, be suffered not alone, but reaped the harvest of his own transgression, in the wrongs and wretchedness of those most nearly connected with him.
How subtle is pride : how does it love to array itself in the garments of humility, disguising itself from itself, and exhibiting a counterfeit grace for that which is a real sin ! The mother of nations counted herself unworthy a share in the covenant of promise. In seeming submission to the divine will, but in actual rebellion against it, she put from her hopes,
446 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE,
which she should have waited for with ao earnest- ness and patience of expectation, neither 'to be daunted by difficulty, nor wearied by delay. That her conduct was the result of secret impatience and insubmission, is evident, not only from the tone of her address to Abram, but also from the temper of mind in which the seeming success of her own scheme afterwards found her. When, iu the providence of God, the measure she had proposed seemed likely to be crowned with the desired blessing ; when at length it appeared that a child should be born to Abram, — the presumptive heir of Canaan, the progenitor of the wondrous seed in whom all the nations of the earth should be blessed, — the bruiser of the ser- pent's head, the death-destroyer, — does she rejoice in the apparent fulfilment of a prediction which she had been so anxious to see verified? Ah, no! she who, in a spirit of false humility, had been so willing to write a sentence of exclusion against herself from privileges and promises, is the first to talk of her '' wrongs,'' (Genesis xvi. 5.), when she began to realize the degradation of her altered posi- tion, through her own voluntary surrender of both. How does the latent pride now swell within her bosom, and break forth in a torrent of reproaches against him who had erred solely in yielding to the dictates of her own impatient will ; and how does it shew itself in acts of oppressive tyranny towards her, vrho, though apparently about to become the mother of the promised heir, remained her bondmaid still ! How subtle is pride, when it lies in the heart, like the small leaven, hid in the fulness of the measure of its good and wholesome purposes ! How violent its working, when by the operation of some unlooked
FEMALE BIOGRAFHY OF SCRIPTURE. 447
for agency, it is broaght into combination with every feeling of the soal !
.Oh, Thon! who hast, in the revelation of thyself to us by Jesus Christ, given unto us exceeding great aiid precious promises, shall we impatiently arraign thy purposes when thou bidst os wait for them? Thou hast, in the depths of thy condescension, given unto us" the sign whereby we know we shall inherit/^ (Gen. XT. 8.) The altar has been prepared, the vic- tim has been offered, and God and man have met in reconciling bond. Deity has passed between the broken body, in token that the covenant of blessing and of promise shall be fulfilled. Meanwhile we wait till the fruit of the Spirit has sealed to us the visible pledge of our share in this great covenant : but not seldom do we wait in yain. Season after season, goes by, and gives no token either of blade or ear: shall we then write a bitter sentence against ourselves, because righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost do not immediately appear ? — shall we grow weary of waiting ? desiring to reap in undue season the harvest, ere the earing be complete? Oh, let not the trial of our faith work in our corrupt na- ture the heavings of a sullen despondency, leading us to a base surrender of ennobling, invigorating hope ! '< Faithfur' is he that hath promised. '' Able" is he that hath promised ; but what if the promise tarry ? Then grant to us that we '* wait for it."
Lydia.
448
TO SYLVIA.
O COMB ! 'tis merry spring-time now,
The blackbird's note is heard to swell. And see, upon the hawthorn bough,
The clusters that we love so well ! Let's hasten to the green-wood shade,
There, flow'rs beneath oar feet shall rise, The spangled earth oar carpet made,
Oar canopy — the spreading skies ! To man, the Lord of aU below,
Can fretted arch, or gilded dome, A nobler mansion ere bestow,
From childhood, to the silent tomb ?
'Twas thas, when mother earth was yojing.
Ere farrows marr'd her em'rald vest. In golden ages, bards have song.
Oar nobler sires would take their rest ; They worshipp'd then at God's mim shrine—
The mountain height — the boandlest wave. In dread magnificence combine
To hamble, elevate and save ! For could they gaze on such a scene.
By man's proud chisel never wrought. Nor lift to heav'n the brow serene.
With lowly praise— with grateful thought !
TO SYLVIA. 449
Eternal Being ! in thy courts
O ever let us worship thee ! O'er hill and vale, the loved resorts
Of pilgrims by thy grace set free. And when we mark the full-orbed sun
Through ether blaze — a glorious sight ! We'll think, with fervent love, on One
Who pours o'er earth a richer light. And when, at eve, Sol buried lies,
With ruddy lustre, 'neath the wave, ^Twill speak of Him who bleeds and dies,
A sinful, ruined race to save !
J. D.
The awakened sinner sees that, throughout the ex- tent of the universe, he hath not a single friend — even an angel canncrt befriend him, though he may look down with all the anxieties of pity and sympathy. Nature cannot befriend him ; and even God himself must be his enemy — then he feels that he is indeed poor, that he hath not a single friend to flee unto. — Rev, Dr. Cooke,
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452 LETTBRS TO A FRIEND.
vered ia this coantry, near the river Liffey, by a man whose name was Juchadhan or Uchan ; being expert in the working of metals, the management of the ore was committed to bis care. ^
About the same period of time, different dyes were found out, particularly blue and green, and the people began to decorate their persons. Tighermas enacted a new law respectiog clothing. The slaves were or- dered to appear in one colour only. A soldier had liberty to wear two, a commanding officer three. Gen* tlemen, or farmers of property, who entertained strangers hospitably, were privileged to wear four colours, and the nobility who ranked higher were to have live; and the highest of all, six ; which were the king, the queen, the chronologers,^and men of emi^ nent learning.
The most remarkable event (in which all the anti- quaries agree) in the life of Tighermas, was his in- troduction of idolatrous worship into Ireland. He erected Pagan altars, and began to establish bis reli- gion, which was that of Zoroaster in Greece, abont one hqndred years after the Milesians had taken pos- session of the country. Tlie idol which be set up was called Crom-Cruach. It was a stone capped with gold. Twelve other rough stones were placed round
does not remain the most remote tradition of it in the country ; bat it is more strongly demonstrable A-om a natural process wliicb has taken place since its formation j for the sides and pillars were found covered with sparry iDcrustation§, which the present workmen do not observe to be deposited in any definite portion of time/ Of our eso-liest colonists the Oamnii, or Danaans, it is said : — • ' The superior intelligence of this people, and of the Clanna Rho- boig, considered with Tacitus's account of the trade of Ireland, induce me to suppose that the coal works at Ballycastle^ pn the Acntheq* coast, which exhibit marks of ancient operations, had been worked by either or both.'— ffood's Inquiry into the Primitive Inhabitants of Ireland'* . .
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 458
It, to represent the signs of the Zodiac. The worship- pers sacrificed the first'*born of every creatare to this idol on the day of Saman.
On this festival-day, Tigbermas issued a peremp- tory order that these sacrifices shoald be made, and that men, women, and children shoald prostrate themselves on the ground in worshipping the idol, antil they drew blood from their noses, foreheads, ears, and elbows. Many died in consequence of the severity of this exercise, and hence the place of wor- ship was called Maghsleicht, which signifies, place of slaughter. (Vet. MSS., quoted in the Collection de Reb. Hibem. No. 12.)^
While Tighermas was in the act of worshipping, with many other idolaters, they were struck dead by some awful visitation from heaven. Yet this did not put a stop to the unholy rites which were practised by every people that conquered Ireland until the Christian religion triumphed over Paganism.
Another record states that Tighermas was the first who adored idols, and built altars in Ireland, in the county of Leitrim, in Breifpe, where he and many of his fdlow- worshippers were struck dead by lightning from heaven. The place was afterwards called Maigh Sieaeht, — the plain of adoration.
Many vestiges sti^ remain in Ireland of the preva- lence of such idolatrous rites.
The religion was that of the Phoenicians. The cromlech, or tomb altars, the unhewn pillars, the heaps of stones, called carnes, once held sacred, bear testimony at this day that there were sun and fire worshippers in Ireland. Many names of places still retained are evidently derived from, the same source.
BaltinglasSy or Bael-teinglass, means the pure fire
454 LETTERS TO A FRIEND.
of Bel, or the suo, wbich is called, the Great Father, or the Great God.
Here the chiefs sat in ooancil ; also the entrenefa- ments witbiQ which the nobles were stationed near the scene of debate.
Cahir, or Caer, in Gaelic signifies oracle.*
The Irish word Grian signifies the san ; from whence are the following names — Knox-greine, and Taam-greine, hills of the san. Cairne-grayney, the san*s heap; now called granny's bed. Grian*beaofat, the sun's circle.
New Grange, near Drogheda, probably received its name from the same cause. Of this place Faber re- marks, ' The narrow passage, in fact, and the stone bowls of this Irish grotto are merely the counterpart of those in the cave of Tropbimus, the pagodas of Hindostan, and the Pyramids of Egypt.'
There is a Cromlech, or tbmb-altar near Cioyne, called Garig Croith, or the sun's rock.
Many monuments have been discovered of the wor- ship of the heavenly bodies. Golden ornaments have been dug up in the bogs, in the form of a crescent — such as were used in worshipping the moon, which was called He. Slieve-mis, in Antrim, signifies moun- tains of the moon.
The Irish also had sacred groves and wells, of which the superstitious veneration has never yet passed away. Witness the blood-stained path round many of these holy wells, which on naked knees they traverse as a penance for sin. At all of these wells the sacred tree is found, upon which each devotee leaves a piece torn off their garments suspended on
1 Miss L. C. Beaufort. Transactions of the Royal Irish Academy.
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 4^
the branofaes, which must never be broken. It ori- ginates in an idolatrous custom, and now, they say, is a preservation from sorcery or witchcraft : in olden times attributed to the Tuatha de Daaans, and to the Druids.
They will now tell you of the Sidhe, or fairies, in those old venerated trees, and * living among the pleasant bills.' And of the Ban«sidhe, or Banshee, which attends each Irish family ' of the real sort,* to give notice of a death among their relations*
Baal, or Bel, was the chief deity of the Irish. Beel- saman was his title, which signifies Lord of heaven. On the evening of the great festival day, called the day of Samhin, all who were condemned by the Druids on the preceding March were burned, or puri- fied between two fires.
The great tribunal of the Druids was held on the bill of Usneach in Westmeath. The summit of this hill-was the. limit on which the five provinces of Ire- land touched. Many of the farmers, in paying the May rent to their landlords, still denominate it Cio»-na-Bealtinne, which signifies, the rent of Baal's fire.i
There are few parts of the country in which you may not find those sloping stones, called Druids' altars and Cromlechs, originally palled Bothal, the house of God.
One of the Irish Icings named Tuathal, of whom you shall hear more hereafter, built the royal seat of TIaohtga, where the fire Tlachtga was ordained to be kindled. Which fire was deemed sacred, and its use was to summons the priests, augurs, and druids of
> See More'8 History of Ireland.
4$S LBTTBRS TO A FRIEND,
Irfdand, to fepair tbkher^ aDd asaemble upon the eve of AU-saiatS) in order to oooaume the sacrifices that wf^Moffered to their pagan gods; and it was esta* blished, under the penalty of a great fine, that no other fire shoald be kindled upon that night through- out the kingdooiy so as that all the fire throughout the country might be derived from this sacred fire ; which was esteemed a great privilege, and for which every person who procured it paid a scraball, in value about threepence, every year to the king of Mnnster, as an acknowledgment that the piece of ground on which the palace Tlachtga was builty had been taken from the province of Munster and added to Meath.
The convocation of Visneach was kept upon the first day of May, where they offered sacrifices to the principal deity of the island, whom they adored under the name of Beul.
Two of these May-day fires were kindled in every territory in the kingdom, in honour of this pagan god. It was a solemn ceremony, at this time, to drive a number of cattle of every kind between these fires ; which was supposed to be a preservative, or cbarnt, against murrain and other pestilential distempers among cattle, for the following year. And from these fires, which were made, in honour of the god Beul, the day upon which the Christian festival of St. Philip and St. James is held, is called in the Irish language La Beultinne. The derivation of which word is. La in Irish signifies a day, Beul the name of the pagan god, and Teinne is the same with fire in the English.'
1 Fray observe that this account is left on record by the Roman Catholic priest, J. Keating, who wrote his history in the Irish lan^
LETTERS TO A FRIEKD. 467
The worship of fire and water was usnally com^ binedy and is in a measure retained aroong^ the lower order of nnenlightened papists, as has been meO' tioned, in their veneration of holy wells. I met wHh a clergyman who told me of a place, I think in the south of Ireland, where the women have a -practice of what they call 'swilling their children throngh the fire,' to preserve them from evil* This reminds me of many passages in the Bible, which reprobates these heathenish customs. ** And they built the high places of Baal, which are in the valley of the son of Hinnom, to cause their sons and their daughters to pass through the fire unto Moloch ; which I com- manded them not, neither came it into my mind, that they should do this abomination, to cause Jndah to sin.'' Jen xxxii. 85 ; and xix* 5 ; viL 31. Even an older than the prophet Jeremiah speaks of the wor- ship of Baal on the high hills. He was the idol of the Moabites, as 'recorded by Moses, Deut. xii*81. And in 1 Kings xviii. 28, we read a description of the fanatical acts of his worshippers : *< 1?hey cried aloud, and cut themselves after their manner, witb knives and lancets, till the blood gushed out upon them.''
The crom-leac, or fire-altar, is a huge stone sup- ported on three other stones ; a space left between them, for children, &c. to pass under the fire.
In my first letter I mentioned the curious caves which are lined with flag-stones, sides, roof, and floor — marks of fire are still visible on them. Near to many qf these are pillar stones called whisperers.
A common expression still, in Irish, among the
goBf, collected from the mott ancient Irish records and man. uBci^pta.
458 LETTERS TO A FRIEND.
common people is, when going to mass, * Let us go to the stone/ ^
The fire of St. Bridget, kept by nine virgins may well be compared to that of Vesta, the goddess of the fire- worshippers. Without holy water, blessed by the priest, no Irish cottage inhabited by Romanists won Id be deemed safe. Thus is the worship of fire and water still maintained in that religion which blends itself with paganism.
Veneration for old trees still prevails. Witness St. Bridget*s monastery and the city of Kildare, originally Kildara, cell of the oak, from a very large oak-tree which grew near the spot ; the trunk remaining in the twelfth century. It was so much venerated no one dared to touch it with a knife.
The word datr signifies oak. This word is often combined with churches in Ireland. Dairmagh, now called Dnrrogfa, in the King's county, signifies the Plain of Oaks. Daire-Calgaich was the name of an ancient monastery, from whence Derry was named, and was once called the Hill of Oaks.
" Then shall ye know that I am the Lord, when their slain men shall be among their idols round about their altars. Upon every high hill, in all the tops of the mountains, and under every green tree, and jander every thick oak, the place where they did offer sweet savour to all^heir idols." Ezek. W. 13.
' The Druids held nothing more sacred than the oak, and the mistletoe which grows upon its arms. They chose groves of oak on their own account, and never performed any of their sacred rites without the leaves of those trees. In allusion to the religious
1 Miss L. C. Beaufort's Essay in the Transactions of the Royal Irlsb Academy.
LETTERS TO A FRIEND. 459
worship which was paid to this tree, the prophet says, ** For they shall he ashamed of the oaks whieh ye have desired, and ye shall be confoanded for the gardens which ye have chosen/' Isaiah i. 20. They regarded the mistletoe, which grew on their favoarite tree, as sent from heaven, and as a sign that God himself had chosen it for the scene of his worship. The mistletoe indeed Js a very extraordinary plant, not to be cultivated in the earth, but always growing apon some tree. It seems to prefer the branches of the oak or the apple* It was ever treated by the Draids and their disciples with great ceremony. They called it " The carer of all evil ; " and having daly prepared their feasts and sacrifices under the tree, they bring two white bulls, whose horns are then for the first time tied. The priest dressed in a white robe, ascends the tree, and with a golden praning- hook, cuts off the mistleto, which is received in a white sheet.'— Paxton's Illustrations, part ii. p. S26. I shall conclude this letter with another quotation from Serle's Horae Solitarise, in a note on the Doc- trine of the Trinity.
* The Gauls had many rites concerning their oaksy their Draids (i. e. oak-prophets or priests). They worshipped the material sun or his light, as the great vivifier of nature, whence they were styled Saron- ide$, &c. ^
* As to the oakf and their worship under it, this is evidently a vestige of the patriarchal religion, and refers to the coveiiant of God, which the oak was ap- pointed to symbolize, but which the ancient heathens perverted, ** changing the truth of God into a lie ; '* for ** when they knew God, they glorified him not as God, neither were thankful; but became vain in
460 LETTERS TO A FRIEND;
their imaginations, and their foolish heart was dark- ened." Rom. i. 21.
' The oaks (iQ our translation rendered plains') of Moreh and of Mamre, where Abraham pitched his tent and reared altars, were Bethels, or places of worship, where God met with, instructed, and re- vealed to him the promise of Christ, who should come of his flesh, SLud for which purpose, orendy Abra- ham kept whatever was implied in God's charge, commandments, statutes, and laws, (Gen. xxvi. 5.) and which (being of the same name) may yerj juartly be concluded to be similar in substance to those deli^- livered afterwards more expressly through Moses to the church of God. Hence we find, long before Moses the usage of minchas or rest-offerings, burnt- offerings, sacrifices, and drink-offerings » Gen. iv. 3; viii. 20; xii. 7, 8; xv. 9 ; xxii. 2, 7, 8, 13 ; xxvi. 25; xxxi. 54 ; XXXV. 14.
' The perversion of this worship under the oaks, is spoken of in Isaiah ii. 12, 18—15. << The day. of the Lord of hosts shall be upon every one that is lifted up ; and he shall be brought low. And upon all the cedars of Lebanon, that are high and lifted up, and upon all the oaks of Bashan, and upon all the high mountains, and upon all the hills that are lilted up, and upon every tower, and upon every fenced wall.'' And again, << Howl, O ye oaks of Bashan ; for the forest of the vintage is come down. Zech. xi. 2. In the margin, the deferred forest.'
9f
461
ISRAEL'S TKUST ; .
FROM THE REV. A. BOYD's COMMEMORATION SERMON.
And all this was not the product of a momentary excitement, it was not the sparkle of the first fer- vour of preparation ; it was more, far more, than the acting of that glowing but transient enthusiasm which spreads, like an electric stream, from soul to soul in a spirit-stirring crisis ; it had in it that sub- stance and vigour which endured the con tin nation of the trial, and carried the sufferers through it,'un- depressed in courage, unshaken in resolution. It enabled Israel not only to build, to plan, and to for- tify, but to survey calmly the aspect of the danger, and to listen unmoved to the menaces and taunts of the invader. On the battlements of Jerusalem did the besieged receive the message of Sennacherib — a Biessage intended ** to affright them. and to trouble them;'- (2 Chron. xxii. 18.) and they received it without the emotion of a reply. When the voice of the insulter ceased, there was deep silence on the walls of the city of David. It was not the silence of fear — the effect of a terror which crushed down the heart, and denied, to the lips the power of utterance ; it was not the silence of unconcern, or the stillness of apathy ; — it was the eloquent answer of contempt ; the collected reply of men who had learned to laugh to scorn the boasts of the adversary ; — the king's com- mand had gone forth, ** Answer him not!''
462 ISRAEL'S TRUST.
Bat besides this, we may observe that the temper in which this danger was encoantered was one of implicit confidence in God. This, in trath, was the spring of that maryelloas courage which Israel ex- hibited at this crisis. It was a courage emanating from Him who had ever been a refuge and strength, and it was drawn oot of the treasury of Deity by the hand of faith in his promises. To no other source can we trace this collectedness of mind, this striking calmness at a season of almost stunning perplexity. Every thing around Israel was dark, every section of their sky mantled in the deepest gloom. They were feebje in themselves, they were forsaken by their friends, they were literally girt in by the thousands of their enemies. They knew that, under such cir- cumstances, the arm of flesh was utterly insuflficient for the encounter ; they knew that, if the result was to depend upon an unsupported measurement of their own prowess with that of the invader, the handful must be scattered before the multitude, like the chaff before the rush of the tempest. But in the midst of all this gloom, dark and portentous though it was, one star still shone brightly in the firmament, an omen to them of safety, cheering as the beacon-lamp to the bewildered mariner — the Lord of Hosts was with them. Forgotten, it may be, in seasons of prosperity. He was thought of, He was appealed to, he was trusted, in the hour of disaster. Ob, it is beauteous to observe how Israel, in the time of rebuke and trial, was thrown upon her allegiance towards God ; how his deeds of old came crowding back upon the recollections of his people ; how his promises, long unapplied, rose upon their view, and spake assurance to their hearts, as the pillar of light which was the
ISRAEL'S TRUST. 463
token of security to their forefftthers in tbe desert. It is glorioas to see a nation, from the monarch to the poorest sabject, prostrate at the throne of Omni- potence, lookinj^ to a strength which had never been impaired, to a faithfulness which never had wavered ; and it is no less cheering to observe how the cry of the destitute was heard, and the might of the Power- ful One allied to their weakness. It sheds a golden flood of instructive light upon all this transaction to accompany the suppliant king to the temple of Jeho- vah, to witness him upon his bended knees, interced- ing for his country and his people ; acknowledging to the fall the magnitude of the danger, but admit- ting as fully that it was as dust in the balance before Omnipotence; confessing that the kings of Assyria had swept nations before them in the march of their conquests, but pleading that the God of Israel was '*he who dwelt between the cherubims; the God alone of all the kingdoms of the earth." This was &ith wrestling for a blessing, mortal weakness stay- Bg itself upon the exhaustless resources of Deity. It was the power of tbis faith which enabled Heze- kiah to descend from his interview with the Lord, filled with an assurance of victory himself, and burn- ing to impart the grounds of a like confidence to his people. It was this which moved him to gather his comrades in distress into the streets of Jerusalem, and to *< speak comfortably to them/' It was this which dictated that address, perhaps unrivalled in the annals of warfare, *' Be strong and courageous, be not afraid, nor dismayed, for the king of Assyria, nor for all the multitude that is with him, for there be more with us than with him ; with him is an arm of flesh, but with us is the Lord our God." And it
464 ON FEASTING.
was the mysterious and elevating power of the same faith which rested as brightly upon the hearts of the men of Jndah as it had upon the spirit of their mo- narch, which prompted him to speak, and '' the people to rest themselves upon the words of Heze- kiah, king of Judah." 2 Chron. xxxii.8. (Page 21.)
Oh Seigneur Dieu ! J6sus mon Sauvenr ! est-oe pos- sible que Tu ais moura sur la croix, pour nous obtenir des bienfaits si inestimables, 6ternelfl ; et que Ta ais ordonn^ cette sainte c6ne pour nous en sissarer^ et pour nous en faire part ? et soit*il possible que les hommes, les pdcheurs, ne viennent dans Ton iienpie que pour m^priser Ton sang? pour dedaigner Ton saori£ce? poortonmer le dos k Ta table aAimtel*^ Dean o/Jersejf*
SUbieto of Sooitfl!.
1>EGTUR£S ON THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND, delwertd in London, Marth, 1840. JSy the Rev. Hwfh MeNeih, MinUter of St. Jnd^g Church, Li- fnrpooL Hvtcbanls.
Many CkriHisii ladies experienced a severe disap- pointment on learning that the lectures to be deli- Tcred by Mr. McNeile in continuation of those with which Dr. Chalmers had, two years before, delighted a crowded auditory, were, like their predecessors, intended fw the superior sex alone. The wisdom of that arrangement we do not impugn: nay, we hear- tily concur in it, on many grounds ; and we now congratulate our female friends on being enabled to sit down, and with prayerful study to examine in re- tirement that which they were not permitted publicly to hear.
Mr. McNeile is most valuable on paper ; the ex- traordinary power of bis oratory, the unequalled
Mat, 1840. 2 H
466 REVIEW OF books:
graces of his delivery, the fascinatiDg accompani- inent of eloqaent loolcs and most splendid intonation, add such a charm to the conceptions of his mighty intellect, that some of his admirers are perhaps fn danger of overlooking the deep import of what he says, when listening to the soond of snch ** a very lovely song ; ** — they may so look upon the outward fashioning of the fine gold of this chosen vessel, set apart and sanctified for the Master's ase, as well nigh to forget that the excellency of the treasure is wholly of God : and on a retrospection, they may be tempted to doabt whether the argument alone would have carried such irresistible conviction to their minds, ' if any one but McNeile had spoken it/ Therefore we say, shut yourselves up alone with what he has written, and be convinced that, despite of all outer attractions, it is by the force of truth McNeile cap- tivates : the light that shines on his page Is derived from- the Sun of Righteousness; and the mental power to which you are compelled to yield is, like the bodily might of Sampson, given of God for an especial purpose.
The great object of these lectures is to induce a vigorous effort for attaining a national blessing through the extension of our national church. We can promise to every reader not only the deepest and most perspicuous line of argument, but such bursts of eloquence, such a glow of holj enthusiasm, such sublime trains of thought conveyed in diction no less sublime and splendid, as will richly overpay the ex- penditure of time and study. We also promise that the members of our church shall learn to know her better, and to love her more, from these pages ; and obtain much information on a subject where, if all
FELIX PE LISLE. 467
were rightly informed, all would readily combine for the extension of oar people's privileges ; then would the prayerful effort be made that should cause our vine to put forth her branches, while the land re- joiced under its shadow, and God, even our own God, should give us his blessing.
FELIX DE LISLE. An Autobiography. Seeley and Burnside.
A SINGULAR book. The hero is a young man brought . upon a desert isle by an infidel father, in utter igno- rance, not only of the doctrines of Christianity, but .of the existence of a God. In this state of natural religion he quits his retreat, at the age of twenty- .fivCi and receives his first religious instruction on board ship from some French sailors-^Papists, of course — between whose absurd superstition, and the yague deism of their giddy captain, poor Felix is greatly bewildered to choose. In France, after many . adventures, he meets with a fragment of an old Bible, and is thereby brought acquainted with the law, as given by Moses : then, in England, he hears the gospel; and after being so long tossed about by divers and strange doctrines, he finds rest to his soul. Much vigorous writing, and highly picturesque de- scription, characterize this book. The account g^ven by Felix of his childhood and youth — the splendid natural phenomena of the southern clime, with their effect on his mind and character, are finely brought .out. As a whole, the book pleases us greatly.
a Hs
46d RBYiBW OF books:
THE CHURCH IN THE WORLD, and the Church of the First-born ; or. An Affectionate Address to Christian Ministers upholding Oxford Tract Doc- trines, Seeley and Barnside.
A very mild, sober, and well-timed rebuke to tbe most wofully mistaken party of men among as. We do not go along with the author of this address in all things : we think he runs occasionally into the oppo- site extremes from those whom he reproves ; bat, if ex- tremes we must have, let us recede from Oxford to any extent rather than approximate to it. Of coarse, by Oxford we mean the Tractarians only. Tbrongh God's mercy, this ' erroneous and strange doctrine ' has received a check, primarily by means of the faith- ful Record newspaper, and subsequently by other able hands, that prevent its walking in darkness, un- discovered ; and happily its character is such that it can do little harm in the daylight.
THE AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE AND ITS REMEDY. By Thomas Fowelt Buxton, Esq. Murray.
Many of our readers will be no less astonished than shocked at hearing that, after all the strenuoas, s^nd, as regards our own participation, successful efforts of English philanthropists— after all the sacrifice of labour, treasure, and human life so freely made in the cause of poor Africans, ' the traffic has not been extinguished, has not been diminished, but, by tbe
THE SCHOOL- GIBL IN FRANCE. <69
latest accoants from whiob any eAtimate oao be cor- rectly formed, the numbers exported have increased-^ ibe destraction of human life, and all tbe guilt and misery consequent thereon, have been fearfully aug- mented/—' the numbers exported from Africa, are, as compared with the year 1807, as two to one ; <and the annual loss of life has risen from seventeen to twenty-five per cent/*
What a picture — what a call on us not to be weary in well-doing! A society has been formed for the gradual extinction of this diabolical traffic, and the colonization of Africa, as a means of Christianizing that land whereof the Holy Spirit has declared that she shall stretch out her hands towards God. It is enough to say that on the list of managers in this new association, we find the names of Lords Ashley, Chichester, Calthorpe, the Bishop of London^ Sir R. H« Inglis, and others dear to every Protestant. Mr. Buxton, ever foremost among the friends of Africa, has furnished us with a large and painfully important volume, shewing, as the title implies, the cruel wrongs of our sable brethren, and fully stating bis plan, its importance, facilities, and tbe blessings to be expected; Christian men should immediately take this in hand, and Christian women lend every aid in their power to forward the work.
THE SCHOOL-GIRL IN FRANCE; a Narrative addressed to Christian Parents. Seeley and Burn- side.
Long have we looked for such a work as this, embo- dying in an interesting tale, the frightful perils to
470 REVIEW OF books:
wbiieh tbo sottis of oar dear young countrywomen are ex{Mi8ed by tbe infatuation that bewitches e?en Chris- tian parents to send their offspring abroad for the advantages (!) of education in a Popish country. Certainly if Satan ever laughs, it must be at the spectacle of an English home sending forth the dear children sheltered under its roof, to tempt him in the very precincts of his own especial throne, where he runs riot in almost unresisted dominion, and for what ? why that the accents of a foreign language may glide more trippingly off their tongues. When Satan tempted the Chaldeans of old to build their towering* abomination before the Most High, he could hardly calculate how far the consequent c6nfusion of tongues could conduce to th^ extension of his more modenr Babylonian abomination, Popery.
We have never, under any circumstances, failed to enter an earnest protest, when made aware of the purpose of any English parent or guardian to send a young female abroad, in such vain and presumptuous speculation of worldly advantage ; but we could only remonstrate : the writer of the present volume has done more — she has painted to the life and evidently from the life, the scenes and temptations attendant, under the most favourable circumstances, on a French establishment, where the governess, on a principle of scrupulosity which may possibly exist (though we doubt it) in the bosom of a devout Romanist, abstains from any attempt at proselytizing. We beg our readers to study the volume.
" STRENGTHEN THE THINGS THAT REMAIN." 471
"STRENGTHEN THE THINGS THAT RE- MAIN." A Sermon preached in the Cathedral of Londonderry, on the ISth of December, 1839. By the Rev* Archibald Boyd, M,A, Curate of London^ derry, Baisler.
The occasion of this most splendid sermon was as follows. The French flags, taken in a sally by the heroic besieged in 1689, and suspended in the cath- edral, having become wholly decayed, they were re- newed by the ladies of the town attaching fresh silk to the original staves. On the memorable anniver- sary of the closing of the gates' of Derry in 1688, these renewed banners were borne to the church, and after divine seryice were placed by the Appren- tice Boys in the ancient quarter. On this occasion the Rev. Archibald Boyd was requested to preach the commemoration sermon ; and to the Mayor and Corporation of Derry, who immediately addressed him to publish it, we are indebted for one of the most strikingly beautiful, magnificent discourses ever de- livered from a pulpit. It is impossible to give an outline : we should transcribe the whole discourse if we commenced. The deliverance of Israel from the king of Assyria is the portion of scripture chosen by the preacher, from 2 Kings xix. 32 — 34, and such a chapter of sacred history, with its parallel in our own national experience, as the highly-gifted divine has here spread before us, in language of most glowing; sublimity, and rare elegance of diction, we never met with. The deductions drawn — the duties of a people so delivered, so preserved — is worthy of what pre- cedes it. We have given an extract in page 461 ; but no detached portion can convey an adequate idea of the beauty and value of the discourse.
472
THE PROTESTANT.
< Whsv a man whose previoas eharaoter, 1ms bean more than professedly moral/ said my aoole; ' who has been found regalaling his general oondoet bjr principles of uprightness and integrity, avowedly de* riyed from tiie Bible^ and has for a long period •€ years so commanded the respect of bis neighboars an to give his ofrfnions a weight among them wbioli others eqoaily wealthy and powerful, bnt not so dis^ tingaished in efaaraeter, coald never command*— when such a man becomes selfish, tyrannical, and msimn cere, aeglectfol of his best interests, regardless of his highest duties, guiding no longer his own affairs with discretion, and willing rather to prey upon the weaker parties around him, than to exert to any good pur* pose bis long-standing influence among the stronger, or even to maintain that inflnenee as of 6ld-*-what would you say of that man ? '
* I should say, unde, that I feared he was one of those concerning whom the apostle says, that it had been better for them not to have known the way of righteousness, than after they have known it, to turn from the holy commandment delivered unto them/
* And this being the case of an individual, he must assuredly be brought into judgment for It, either by such calamities as shall lead him to repentance, if room for repentance there yet be, or else by the final
THE PROTESTANT. 47^
sentence of condemnation, dooming him to eternal destruction. Bat when, instead of a solitary indivi- dual, the offender is a nation ; when the act, whether for good or for evil, is that of a government, repre- senting the sentiments of the hundreds of millions of freemen for whom they legislate, and who possess the legal right of restrainittg that government from any abuse of their delegated power, what may we expect ? If one man is aeoountabU before God according to the light given, surely a nation of enlightened men will not trangresa with impunityi just because they ean sin on an ineomparably larger scale, and with nwre awlol effect than an isolated being can do.^
*That has been long ago decided, uncle; for the Lord deetafes that when the land traagresses against him by sinning grie<vouMy» be will send bis plagues upon it, even . to the cutting off of man and beast, ii the Iniquity be not removed from before him.'
* Aye ; as individuals each shall give account of himself to God, in a future state, when the sentence of the wicked servant shall be confirmed — ^sealed for eternity^and he who patiently took up his cross, in the general tribulation, lor his Master's sake, and bore it in his Master's strength* shall find in a crown of life the blessedness of having been faithfnl unto death. It is necessary that public judgments should be abroad on the earth, because where God has spe- cially honoured a people, if they by unrighteous doings dishononr Him, his glory must be vindicaled in the sight of other nations by their chastisement proving that he dees not call his people to unclean- nefeis but to holiness/
* And what nation, since the days of Israers great* Bass, bfls been ao benonrod as onr own ? '
474 THB PROTESTANT.
< None: I have been looking oat upon the bios- soming fields, overshadowed by stately trees now bursting into leaf, and peopled by a thousand birds, whose chirping notes of gladness seem to reproach the coldness of my heart, the silenc^of my lips, un- der the same bright influence that makes them break forth into singing. I have thought, what country in the world has reaped so many plentiful harvests from grain sown in unbroken peace and security; what plains have been for so many centuries unstartled by the note of war, unstained by the bloodshed of a battle ; where has the law of the Lord been so uni- versally made known, the gospel of salvation so un- interruptedly proclaimed, the Bible, the whole Bible, the unfettered, nnmutilated, unadulterated Bible, so freely placed within every man's reach, as here in my own England? And again, what nation has so fairly walked in the law of the Lord, since Israel transgressed and fell? No sooner were the abominations of a false religion discovered by the light of God's word, than the yoke was cast off ; and by a struggle, not of arms, not of craft, not of diplo- macy, but of firm and faithful endurance for the truth's sake, England attained to the freedom she sought — that of worshipping God according to the scriptures, and of providing for her population pas- tors who should declare to them the whole counsel of God. Fair, rich, peaceful, and teeming with the pro- mise of yet another bountiful season, was the scene spread before me ; but the index to all these mercies was the spire of the village church, rising above the tree^tops, and pointing to the abode of Him who has said, ** They that honour me, I will honour."'
* And the clouds that in the sight of all men over-
THE PROTESTANT^ 47^5
haog onr prosperoas seenery^-do yoa attribute them, ancle, to the great neglect of the nation in not malt-> ing these means of spiritaal instroetion commen-r sarate with the demand of a rapidly increasing' population?'
^ In great measnre I do, not wholly. Negleet of their own souls among those who always enjoyed, or at least might have enjoyed abundant means of grace, was the parent of unconcern, on the one hand for the glory of God, on the other for the interests of their poorer countrymen. It was not for lack of churches that the un-protestantizing act of 1829 — peculiarly the act of the upper classes — was passed/ Those who promoted it, the miserable tools of crafty Jesuits, were not poor uninstructed people, but men who gloried in their superior information, their intel- lectual endowments, and a high-flown liberality of sentiment which was taught to cast upon the barbar- ism of former generations all the odium that belongs to the system of Popery. Men whose sense of honour was so nice that, in a vast number of instances, the fatal assent was given on these romantic grounds ; ' Though the Romish clergy may be willing to grant dispensation for the breach of any oath, where snob breach would tend to the advancement of their church, still no body of gentlemek will violatt the pledge of their word and honour, which they give us : it would be an insult to suppose it. Let us regard them as gentlemen, and we are safe.' Such was the sapient conclusion arrived at by men who had good roomy pews in the parish church ; and to these men we owe the beginning of our present evils.' ' Was it indeed the beginning, uncle?' ' Why no : the same false liberalism had already
476 THE PROTESTANT.
been brovgbt to bear on some of oar internal secari - ties ; and a vast deal was eiTected towards the grand misekief by the extension of the franebise, giving tbe eleetive privilege to men wbo were sore to choose representatives hostile to onr faith, or at least willing to saerificeit for any selfish eoQsideration/
' Wbicb, by the way, brings os back to the former ground, proving how large a body of oar countrymen tl^re was in the h ambler classes not Hghtly instructed aooording to the purpose of those who formed and endowed onr eeolesiastical establishment/
*' It was principally in Ireland that the extension wrought so much barm, because those wbo profited by it were almost all members of the Romish body.'
* Ab I that strengthens the case ; for if the want of churches has operated so injuriously here, where many good men of other communions have laboured to spread the gospel, and where Bibles abound, what shall we say of a branch of the empire being left des- titute even of the knowledge that the Bible is God's word, and so continuing the helpless prey of that enemy from whom we had been mercifully deli- vered.'
* J cannot deny the justice of yonr remark : I believe the majority in the Commons was manufactured prin- cipally intbatway; and if you embrace so wide a field of neglected duty, be it remembered that had soriptural instruction been rightly provided for all the subjects of these isles, we should have had no Popish representatives clamouring for admission to the legis- lature, becaiuse no Popish constituency would have existed to return them. Yes; all is referable to IhftA great national sin*--disregard of the divine coih-
THE PROTB8TAHT. 477
mandment to " preach the gospel to every erm^ ture." '
' And theo, when the enemy had made good a lodgment, he commenced immediate operations le ^ cnpple and cnrtail that, which it every way behoved as to strengthen and enlarge— *oar church establish'- ments.'
' Exactly so : for what other parpose coald they desire admission ? And now we are doomed to be- hold on every side symptoms of national degradation in repeated acts of national folly and delinqnency, drawing upon as the scornful gaze— I was going to say of Europe, bat alas ! two other qaarters of the world now form a principal part of the extensive stage on which we, shorn of strength, are broagfat to make sport for the Philistines ! '
' I can see you are thinking of oar American co^ Ionics, delivered up to Popery and disorder, and thereby likely to be transferred to the dominion of the States ; and of China, the object of most unchris- tian aggression. Bat, ancle, the bulk of the people, I really believe, hold both these things in abhorrence, particularly the last ; and mast all be accountable for the misdeeds of a few ? '
' Yes ; because those few could not carry on their pernicious practices if the balk of the people re- sisted them. By the votes of their so-called repre- sentatives are these men upheld in power, for in the . Upper House they have no coontenance, and the Throne could not nor would not support them in op- position to both the other branches of the constita- tion. Now if the majority of the people be really opposed to their mal-practices, let the different con- stitaencies make it known to their respective repre-
478 THE FfiOTESTANT.
«eiilMWe3) ID suoh a way as shall leav^ tbem in 90 doubt as to the issue of the next elections ; and thus, in the way contemplated by the franiers of our beau- .tiful constitution, the country would maintain its in> tefrity. But, no ; they will qot do this ; and the \n- ferc^ee Is what I drew at the commencemeUt of our conversation, we are rapidly losing all that honour- ably distinguished us among others, and giving proof of a departure from former high principle, — a reck- lessness of aught but our own supposed interests, and a willingness to promote tbem by means from wliich we should once have recoiled — that, mark us as hav- ing left off to behave ourselves wisely, and to do well, and as being ready to barter for any savoury iness of pottage the birthright that ought to be dearer to us than our very lives—the blessing without which those lives form but a title to everlasting misery and unavailing regret ! '
My uncle is, in fact, cut to the heart on the subject of the ^ opium war;' and he presently adverted to it more partlc9larly.
' Wo have sent missionaries into China ; or, mpre properly speaking, devoted men have volunteered on that arduous mission, supported by the encourage- ments, not of England as a nation, but of English Christians in their individual capacity. Some pro- gress was made; the grand point of introducing among that extraordinary people the holy scriptures in their own characters has been gained; some of the natives have been savingly converted, and many more weaned from the dreaidful practices of their pagan race. Attention, even in very high quarters, bas been favourably drawn to the statements, the pro- ceedings, the blameless lives, and holy teaching of
THE PROTESTANT. '479
these ^ood men, who have won for their religion the respect even, of such as would not entertain a thought of its divine origin. Alas for the contrast now pre- sented to the view of these acute and accomplished heathen! Their emperor, knowing the deadly effect produced alike on mind and body hy that ibul drug, '6pium, was enabled to resist all the pleadings of self- interest, and refused, steadily refused, to enrich his own treasury by sanctioning its importation to his vast territories. But the people were willing to pos- sess themselves of the seductive poison, and men were found — ^must I say Englishmen, Christian Eng- lishmen— in a rank where at least we must have hoped it would be vain to look for such degrading conduct, who tempted and bribed the poor Pagans to poison themselves by means of a contraband sup- ply obtained through their smuggling ingenuity, in the face of the imperial, and truly paternal edict of thieir prince. The smugglers are detected, and re- monstrance proving vain, they are forcibly withheld by the monarch from the farther prosecution of their unprincipled illegal traffic. What does England, — gallant generous England,— when these circumstances come before her? She proclaims herself a nation of smugglers : she, ** whose merchants are princes, and her traders the honourable of the earth," declares war against the sovereign who has thus dared to guard his people from a pestilence, and his land from a curse; and I say, niece, that by so doing England draws upon herself the direct visitation of Almighty wrath, sinning against Christ, and against the souls of the heathen, to whom she is bound to declare his salvation with all love, and to exhibit in herself a proof of the elevating, sanctifying power of bis gospel
480 THE PROTESTANT.
— ay, sinning with so high a haM, and with so deep a pnrpose, that were the scream of the northern eagle already heard on oar shores, and his eager talons outspread OTer the devoted prey, I conld bat stand by, in trembling aeqaiesoence, glorifying the righte- oas retribution of our offended God/ ' And can nothing save us from this deadly crime? ' ' There is no effort, no movement made towards it. Men read the public prints, exclaim against these proceedings, and then go their way, one to his farm, another to his merchandize, each solacing himself with the secret assurance that to-morrow shall be as this day, and yet more abundant. They will be uo- deceived. This is a matter too nearly affecting the name and character of Christianity to be lightly passed over ; and the supine indifference of the coun- try makes it altogether a national provocation. See yonder mountebank unfurling for the hundredth time his banner of reckless agitation, in order to replenish his wallet at the expense of his poor countrymen : — behold them still flocking around him, obedient to every tone of the voice that directs its hypocritical pleadings to their love of Old Ireland, and their de- votion to the altars of a false religion. Well may we blush at the spectacle, for there seems to be now no chord in our own bosoms responsive to the theme that could once awaken all, from the hoary-headed grand- sire to the boy that sits upon his knee — the theme of Old England's untarnished honour, and the pure, nn- defiled faith of our fathers, wbo counted not their lives dear unto them when called on to do or to suffer in its righteous cause. Oh ! England, bow art thou fallen ! '
THE
CHRISTIAN LADY'S MAGAZINE.
JUNE, 1840.
HELEN FLEETWOOD. XL
On their firit interview, the widow had seen Mr. Z. ID his coanting-hoase* and under the character of the man of business : she was now at his private dwell- ing, and after treading with some wonder the che- quered marble that graced the spacious hall, and passing between two rising platforms of rare and fra- grant exotics that breathed perfume through the house, and crossing a circular space where the light from a lofty dome of glass streamed down on some fine antique statuary, she found herself in an apart- ment teeming with what to her rustic apprehension appeared the gorgeous magnificence of royalty. It was, indeed, a large and very handsome room, fitted up with no lack either of taste or cost ; the crimson drapery bordered and fringed and tasselled with imi-
JUUM, 1840. 2 I
482 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
tative gold ; the couches, ottomans, and luxurious chairs ; the inlaid cabinets, and fashionable profusion of bijouterie that loaded the carved tables, and even the splendid carpet to which her dazzled eyes were soon turned in abashed bewilderment— all produced on the humble dame an effect that for a moment almost obliterated the subject of her visit.
From a folding door, the partial opening of which shewed a table glittering with cut glass and Alver plate, the accompaniments of the family luncheon, Mr. Z. advanced, and (ook his station before the fire- place, where a time-piece of exquisite workmanship had just struck some musical chimes from beneath the immense bell-glass that covered its burnished gold. Mr. Z. drew forth a watch of the same pre- cious metal, attached to a guard, and while he regu- lated the hands according to the time-piece, said,
' You wished to speak to me, I believe? '
' I did, sir ; I feel it is a liberty to take with you ; but the letter I brought from Mr. Stratton some weeks ago, emboldens me to hope you will overlook it.'
* Oh, then, you are the person from L. Haven't they given you work yet ? '
< Two of my family, sir, have been employed in your mill from the time I first saw you.'
'Well, and what then?'
There was something so freezing in the gentleman's manner, as he threw himself into an easy chair, laid one leg over the other, and fixing his eyes upon the gilt corniccj awaited with imperturbable nonchalance the reply to this natural question, that poor Mrs. Green lacked heart to make known her business. A minute passed in silence, which was broke by his repeating in the same frigid tone.
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 483
' Well, Mrs. Thingimy, what then ? '
' I came to you, sir, because I was unable to obtain a hearing from your agent. All that I want is pro- tection for my poor girls against those who are too strong for them.' Mr. Z. reqiained silent and im- moveable, and she resumed with more earnestness. ' I need not tell you, sir, how important it is to your interests, not to mention a higher motive, that honest and diligent labourers should be encouraged, and not exposed to bad example and ill-usage from others of a contrary character. My children, by God's bless- ing, are both honest and industrious, and have been carefully kept from evil ; but in the place where they are, it is looked on as a sin to be religious, or even modest. I come to beg your interference to save a dear innocent orphan from cruel slander, and unjust persecution.'
Mr. Z. turned his face to her, elevated his eye- brows, and looking at a painting that hung above her head, drily remarked, ' I fancy here's a mistake, good woman. I am not the manager of the mill.'
' But yeu are the manager's master, sir, and there- fore to be appealed to when he refuses redress. Only order an inquiry to be made into the business, and justice to be done, and I will trouble you no fur- ther.'
Another silence ensued. A footman then brought in some letters on a silver salver, which Mr. Z. took, and commenced a leisurely examination of the seals and directions. He opened one, and read it with de- liberation : then, as he folded it, without looking up, said, ' Mr. M. is my agent.'
' But, sir, Mr. M. refuses to attend to me.'
The gentleman was again buried in contemplation
3 12
484 HELEK FLEETWOOD.
over another letter ; and the poor widow, as she gazed on him, then glanced at the splendoats that sur- Toonded her, began to feel the workings of that spirit which e?en in the sanctified bosom too often 'Musteth to envy/' There sat a feliow mortal, as frail a child of earth and of sin as herself; one who had worked his way, not by the labour of his own hands, bnt by the toil of others, to tbe possession of such wealth, and the enjoyment of snch Inxary, as invested him with a seeming saperiority over his brethren of the dast. This, however, she felt was the fruit of enter- prise and perseverance ; the returns of a great outlay, and as such not tq be grudged ; bnt these riches had hardened his heart, had stifled the pleadings of ha- manity, and made him not only cold and proad, bat cruel. 'Surely,' thought she, 'he might tell me at once, and plainly, that he rejects my petition, and bid me go. He ought not to keep me standiBg here, aged and fotigued as I am, hoping for a more favour- able answer, and afVaid to lose it by hastily retiring. He wants me to look round, to admire his glittering toys, and to draw a painful contrast between this palace and my own miserable home; he knows that almost any one piece of furniture, which would not be missed out of this room, would be a fortune tome, and fit up my poor place with every comfort. Does he want me to covet? would be tempt me to steal ? ' Such cogitations were passing through the mind of the widow, and she felt them to be the suggestions of a wrong spirit, yet could not stifle them, until the scripture recurred to her mind, '' Behold, his soul which is lifted up is not upright in him: but the just shall live by his faith.'' All was now changed ; the contrast that struck her was no longer that of a
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 485
haogbty rioh niaD» glorying in his possessions over, a despised* impoverished fellow-'creatare, who groaned beneath the pressure of present difficulty and an- ticipated want ; but that of a wretched being, who had his portion here, the god of this world having blinded his mind, lest the light of the glorious gospel should shine into it— one to whom the summons might comCy** This night shall thy soul be required of thee ; then whose shall those things be which thoa bast provided?"— one of those ** rich men '* to whom the Apostle's awful apostrophe was addressed, " Go to, now ; weep and howl " — yes, the contrast was be- tween such a one and herself, poor in worldly goods, but rich in faith, and an heir of the kingdom of hea- ven : brought through much tribulation to seek, to know, to love the Lord ; having her treasure laid up where neither moth, nor rust, nor thief could touch it ; and knowing, that whatever might be her losses on earth, she had in heaven a better and more endur- ing substance.
Little did Mr. Z. auspect what thoughts of pity, gradually forming themselves into prayer on his be- half, were occupying the mind of the humble creature who stood patiently awaiting his leisure to speak again. When at last he lifted his eyes and glanced towards her, he met a look so full of benevolence, of' nnaooountable kindness and concern, that it sur- prised him out of his affected abstraction, and in a tone of angry expostulation he exclaimed, 'Good woman, what, in the name of wonder, keeps you standing there?' * I was waiting your leave to go on, sir.' ' To go on I You have my leave to go out, which is more to the purpose. Very extraordinary that I
486 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
am to be pestered with matters that only concern my agent. Pray did he send yoa to m^l'
' No, sir; but Mr. Stratton led me to hope I shoald find a friend in yon.'
' Mr. Stratton made a fool of you, for his own pur- poses. Learn, Mrs. WhatVyoar-name^ to know yoor place ; and remember, too, that my private residence is not an office.' So saying he twitched the bell, and disappeared throngh the folding doors, as a footman entered, to re-condact the baffled petitioner by the way she came.
The widow returned to her poor dwelling in a calmer frame of mind than she had quitted it. This resulted from having been driven closer to her Al- mighty refuge by rebuffs painful to flesh, and such as she had never before experienced, but which ren- dered doubly sweet to her soul the word of promise, " / will never leave three, mor forsake thee." She took her Bible, and read aloud to James, whose thin fingers were busily employed at his work, and the boy thought she had been enjoying some great spi- ritual privilege, so full did her heart appear of hea- venly consolation.
' Ah, my dear child,' she observed, when closing the blessed volume, * What a hard case is theirs, who among all the adversities of life know not where to look for such comforts as this book affords to as ! '
' I'm sure I don't know, granny, how they manage; but they seem to think religion would make their troubles worse, instead of lightening them.'
' If they were allowed to put asunder what God has joined, James ; — if they might take the promises and leave the commands, secure happiness without seeking holiness, and serve God and mammon toge-
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 487
tber, we should find a great maDy wbo now shun and even revile religion, very willing to take it up. But the cross is what they hate ; pride will not own a crucified Saviour as the only hope, and corr.uption will not follow Him through trials, in the path of obedience, nor desire the sanctification that would spoil their relish for vain and sinful pleasures.'
< Well, granny; I do think, that is, I am afraid, it is not so much the Spirit of .God as the sickness I feel, that makes me care so little about idle play, and- Jove the Bible as I do.'
' My darling boy, sickness alone would not wean your heart from earth, much less would it endear the blessed book to your soul ; b.ut this sickness is the cross that your loving Lord sees good to lay upon you ; and because you are his own dear child, he leads you to seek refreshment at that fountain of life, and to delight in the word, which tells you that poor as you are, and helpless, sick, feeble, and sioful, all things are yours, for you are Christ's.'
The boy dropped the long silken lashes where tears had already gathered, and meekly replied, ' I am not afraid Jesus will cast me out, granny, for I came to Him because he has invited me, and I am sure he never said what he did not mean.'
The widow's heart sang for joy over this simple declaration of a hope that she knew would never, never make the young believer ashamed. How light seemed the affliction which had weighed down her spirit all day, when thus, placed as it were in the balance against it, the exceeding and eternal weight of glory appeared to the eye of faith ! James had never before spoken out, either as to his bodily illness nor the strong hold that his spirit had taken on the
488 HBLBN FLEETWOOD.
promises of the gospel, and she feh how timely was the communication, at onoe to solemnise and sootbe her mind.
Bat eToning came, and brought a renewal tti troable. Helen's face, for the first time, appeared swollen with weeping, and Mary was in a state of excitement rendered the more evident by her strate- gies to conceal it. Neither entered into any expla- nation, but Helen, on beii^ nrged to speak; said, ' I will no more dissuade you from going to the ma- nager; for indeed I cannot much longer bear it: the worlc is getting beyond my strength, and they make it heayier than it need be — all because I will not go along with them in wickedness/
Little did the widow suspect that the fieur yoang girl so tenderly reared by her, to whom even the lan- guage of nnkindness was never addressed, had that day been cruelly beaten by a ruffian oveiiookor! Mary alone knew it.
However, it was evident that some sort of protec- tion must be obtained ; and without divulging to any of the family her past proceedings or farther inten- tions, Mrs, Green made up her mind to try an appeal to the elder brother of the house of Z. who bore the character of a very domestic man, remarkably fond of his daughters. She had never seen him, as they had been absent, and Mr. Stratton's letter was to the other Z. The house was a little way out of town, the grounds through which she had to pass were beautifully planted ; and the contrast of fresh air^ green leaves, bright sunshine and the singing of birds, to the scene she had just quitted, was most reviviDg. She trod the velvet grass with the elas- ticity of a younger step ; and her hope brightened as
HBLEK FLEETWOOD. 489
she approached the elegant, bnt still raral man* aion.
She was admitted into the library , a large and cbeerfolroom, of which the long windows opened npon a lawn, diversified with flower plats. Mr. Z. was attired in a plain loose morning coat, seated at a table where books and writing materials lay before him; at a smaller table, near him, was a lovely young lady, seemingly about the age of Helen, em- ployed in painting a gronpe of flowers. The widow's bumble cnrtsey was acknowledged by a slight nod from Mr. Z., and after glancing at her dress, always neat and highly respectable, he told her to sit down.
* At length, then,' thought the poor petitioner, as she gratefolly obeyed, ^ at length I have fonnd the right person ; and my salt will be heard.'
Enconraged by this belief, she proceeded to state the occasion of her visit ; and meeting with no inter* roption, she entered upon the topic as especially af- fecting the morals and health of her young charges. She spoke of Helen as a pious, modest, retiring girl, who required nothing more than liberty to remain so, and to pursue her work with the diligence that formed part of her character ; but who, because she maintained her integrity among many evil examples, was not only persecuted by her fellow-labourers but also oppressed, at their instigation, by the people placed in authority over them. All that she sought was an intimation from the superiors of the concern to the men who overlooked the common hands, that they required to have virtue protected, and industry encouraged, instead of the reverse.
During her appeal for Helen^ whose orphan state
490 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
she briefly, but toachingly described, the young lady frequently suspended the operations of her pencil, and listened with looks of kind commiseration : Mr. Z. was silent, and a gloomy expression gathered on his features, which might, however, result from dis- satisfaction at hearing of his people's mal-practices. At lengthy he glanced towards his daughter, and catching one of her compassionate looks directed to the speaker, he abruptly exclaimed, ' Amelia, go to your sisters.*
She immediately left the room ; and no sooner was the door closed than Mr. Z. commenced an angry speech, reprimanding the widow for introducing such improper subjects in the presence of a yonng lady, whose ears ought not to have been assailed by discourse so unfit for a delicate mind.
'What have I said, sir?' asked the poor woman in amaze ; ' surely I avoided every word that could be thought improper ; and I never spoke of, or al- luded- to any thing indelicate.'
' You talked of * drunkards, swearers, and shame-, less people,' and drew a picture of misery, dirt and confusion unfit to be hpard of in a plaoe like this. It is, let me tell you, no small liberty to come to my house on such an errand at all ; but to talk before my daughter is unpardonable.'
* Oh, sir, though of very humble rank, my poor He- len is modest and delicate as you yourself can desire a female to be ; and she is obliged to hear and to see in their worst forms, all the evil things that I spoke of, and others that I could not even mention before the young lady. Let this move your compassion for her.' But Mr. Z. had forked himself into a passion, for propriety's sake.
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 491
' Really, woman, yoar assarance is matcbiess ! Not content with insalting my daughter by yoar low con- versation, yon must now place some dirty factory girl on the same level with her, and thence argae that I am to go, in person of course, and rescue your distressed damsel from the mill ! ' and he laughed in bitter scorn, as he spoke.
What could the dismayed applicant do to appease him ? Every attempt at explanation seemed to ag- gravate her offence, and at length she rose from her seat; a movement that seemed to impart no small satisfaction to Mr. Z. who quickly pulled the bell, and himself striding across the room, opened the door for her, saying, ^ I believe you have erred more through ignorance and presumption than any posi- tive wish to offend me ; so I shall say no more : — there, go along,' he added, slightly touching her arm to expedite her, as, at the encouragement of this more moderate speech she once more strove to ad- dress him, ' go along, good woman, and learn better manners for the future.'
As she followed a servant through the hall. Miss Z., the innocent cause of, or rather pretext for this rude rebuff, came towards her with money in her band ; ' I am so sorry for your distress,' she gently said, ' and perhaps you will accept this trifle to buy a few things for your orphan girh'
* Dear young lady ! * replied the widow, ' it is not money that I want : but if I could win your father's protection for kny poor girls, how thankful-! should be!'
* Oh,' exclaimed Amelia, looking frightened, * Papa never allows any of us to interfere in the least about the mills— I must not say one word to him on that,
492 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
because '—here a side door opened, and an eider ' domestic appeared who, darting a look of anger at the poor woman, said in a testj voice^ ' Miss Amelia, your Mamma wants jroa directly. Directly, Miss,' be repeated impatiently, as the girl was abont to finish her sentence ; and, seemingly with relnetaDce, she walked away. The man growling in an angry onder tone to his fellow servant, * Tarn her oat at once,' followed his yonng mistress ; and the other, a mere youth, proceeding to the door with Mrs. Green, took occasion to whisper, 'Yon can't snceeed hei«: you'll' only make yonrself enemies in the mill, by trying to get justice ont of it. If the agent isn't yonr friend, never reckon on any good by coming to the owners; and our agent is nobody's friend but bis own.'
What a xhange comes oyer the face of creation when sadness weighs down the heart that ere wbile ' rejoiced in nature's joy ! ' The sun shone as brightly^ the green tnrf spread as broadly, the flowers bloomed in an atmosphere as fragrant, and the little birds re- newed their carols with glee as unrestrained ; bat no response was found in the poor widow's aching bosoni to their claims on her glad attention. Sorrow had overwhelmed her spirit, always too sanguine becaase prone to make her own warm-heartedness the stand- ard of anticipations respecting others. Her last hope had failed : of the agent, what she had jast heard was evidently true, and too plainly the yonnf^ footman had represented the uselessness of oth^ appeal. Neither of the Messrs. Z. had chosen to enter at all on the snbject of her complaint, and It was clear that an excuse had been seized by this gentleman roughly to baffle her soit, as his brother
HELEK FLEETWOOD. 498
bad oontemptttoasly frozen ber iDto silence. Yet tbere lingered in ber mind a sort of incredulity as to tbe possibility of socb a state of tbiogs existing in England, simply becaose it was England. Sbere^ membered that Mr. Barlow had once held a meeting of bis parishioners, in order to give them an oppor- tunity of petitioning Parliament for the total aboli- tion of slavery in oar western colonies : a gentleman attended, who detailed tbe wrongs and described the snfferings of tbe poor negroes, previons to receiving tbeir signatures. On that occasion, a stout old far- mer, of tbe hambler class, was seated near ber; and sbe could not forget tbe feverish anxiety with which be awaited permission to write his name. Half rising from the bench, leaning bis bands on the knob of a stout oaken staff, every finger trembling with agita- ttouy while his forehead was streaked with crimson, and bis light grey eyes, blood- shot and glistening, seemed ready to start from bis bead, be stared by turns at tbe pleader and at the roll of parchment which be held, until the speech was concluded, tbe petition was spread out, and tbe ink-stand placed beside it : then be sprang forward with a step that sbook tbe room, and after cutting rather than writing his name on tbe skin, be returned to bis place, draw- ing tbe sleeve of his smock-frock across bis eyes, and with a sound between a sob and a growl, ejaculating, ' Wow ! neighbour Green, tbe man, woman, or child that wont go on bended knees morning, noon and night, to tbank God for being born in Old England, ought to be made a negur slave of.' Then turning to Richard, be added, * Lad, ye wor born a freeman : ye be a poor boy ; but not a lord in tbe land can stamp bis fine boot on tbe toe of year old shoe but ye may
494 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
take the law on him. Think o' that, Dick ! Liberty and old England for ever ! *
The scene had been talked over at night in their own dear cottage ; and Mrs. Barker, with that legal knowledge which it beseemed a beadle's wife to pos- sess, had expounded to them the law of their native land, exemplifying it by a recital of cases oecnrring within her own recollection, where for instances of supposed aggression even ludicrously trivial, certain litigious cottagers had summoned their richer neigh- boors before a magistrate; ay, and obtained re- dress too.
All these things had tended to deepen in the mind of our widow the feeling of independence natural to it : she regarded the legal en%;tments of her country as being to every poor man '' his own vine and his own fig-tree,'^ under whose shadow he might securely sit; and now, despite of all present experience, she was confident that redress was to be had, though where she could not tell. There was no outrage yet committed — so far as she knew — to warrant an ap- peal to magisterial authority ; but surely there must be some species of protection short of that. The re- marks of. South flashed upon her memory, and she dreaded to find his description just, to'the letter : but .still, she thought, ' we are in England ; and it is not possible that in this English town there should be some thousands of slaves — white slaves — free-born slaves— and my own children among them ! No : it is not possible ' — and she quickened her pace, as if to escape from the tormenting suggestion that it was not only possible but absolutely true.
When, in the evening, the party once more assem- bled, her attention was partially diverted by seeing
HELEK FLEETWOOD. 495
Mary pull in with her a singular-looking child, from whose thick, tangled ringlets of dark auburn looked out a little face, full of expression, and of a com- plexion the clear beauty of which was not wholly obscured by all the soil that bad accumulated upon it. Her bright hazel eyes danced with evident plea- sure, and the pretty mouth was dimpled with smiles, as it uttered half-coaxingly, half-reproachfuUy, ' Ah, th^n. Miss Mary, ma'am, that I wouldn't be let clean myself for the gentry to see me ! '
' It will make you more careful to cl^an yourself, Katy, if I let them see how dirty you are : come along, granny wont be cross to you.'
The little girl advanced, and stood smiling and blushing before the widow, who, kindly patting her cheek, said, ' So, you are Mary's little, friend, Katy Malony.'
*• I'm Miss Mary's scavenger, ma'am.'
' And Mary is your piecener,' added Helen, who saw the old lady look grave at this distinction of ranks.
' Yes, I'm Miss Katy's piecener, ma'am,' said Mary in high good humour, imitating Katy's accent as she stood beside her. The little girl looked round, and laughed. After a few more remarks, Mary drew her grandmother aside, and with a face full of earnest anxiety said, * Oh, granny, that poor child's father is so weak, and so friendless, and treated so unkindly by the people where they lodge ! I want you to get him in here, and talk to him ; for oh, you can't think how shockingly ignorant he is ! You won't believe it, but I found out that he says his prayers to the Virgin Mary — only think, to the Virgin Mary, who died one thousand seven hundred and odd years ago : and he
496 HELEN FLEETWOOD.
splashes a Httle pamp-water about every night ; for what, can yoa ever gaess ? No, that yoa never could i— he does it to frighten the devil, granny ! Did y<Hi ever in all yoor whole life hear of any thing like that, granny ? '
The widow had heard of it before ; but she only replied, ' Well, my darling, blessed be God for the Bible which teaches as to avoid all sach foolish and wicked ways.'
' That is jast the thing, granny : Vm qoite snre Katy's father knows no more aboat the gospel than any heathen at the world's farthest end. I want yon to teach him/
' If you bring him here, we will do what the Lord enables as/
* Thank you, thank yoa, my own granny ! I brought Katy that she may see how kind yoa are, and that we are not the grand gentry she takes as for. She will soon bring her father, if yoa encourage her a little.'
So Katy was encoaraged to her heart's content ; and having had her ' tay,' as she called it, took leave with a joyoas promise that she would ask her father to come next evening. This little incident gave a pleasant turn to their feelings. Mary was eloquent on the subject of Malony's unaccountable religion ; and the widow gave them some insight into its sonl- destroying character, from the pages of inspired troth. All the missionary zeal with which Mr. Barlow had loved to inspire his little flock, on behalf of the hea- then, was now kindled afresh, its object being a poor Irish papist, who was listening the while to his child's enraptured description of her new friends, and giving her the promise she sought of accompanying her to
HELEN FLEETWOOD. 497
tbeir dwelling. Bat when the hour of rejst arrived, the widow could not help noticing the evident diffi- oalty and pain attending the movement of Helen's ann. Sh^ questioned her, and was told that the fatigue was certainly great, and that any amelioration of her mental and bodily sufferings would be welcome. Beyond this, she owned nothing ; but her frequent starts and restlessness during the night increased her friend's uneasiness to such a pitch that she resolved on making another attempt to discover where redress f(Nr factory wrongs was to be sought : and to this end she made up her mind that a visit to the clergyman whose ministry she attended would be the safest step. He was certainly a good man : he preached the truth, and bore a high character for humanity and every other right quality. He must needs know the miU-system, for he had been several years rector of that parish ; and he would surely point out to her the best path to take* Once decided upon, this plan left her nothing to regret but that she had not adopted it in the first instance. So, next morning, with as little delay as possible, after setting her simple household in order, she tied on her black silk bonnet and Sunday cloak, and announced herself at the Rector's door as one of. his parishioners, seeking counsel from him. The servant soon returned, bidding her sit down in a small parlour for a few minutes : and there the widow cheerfully awaited the coming of one who would, as she fondly believed put her in possession of that rare philosopher's stone— justice in the factories.
C-ffi.
JUSS, 1840. 2 &
498
ESSAY ON THE TRANSFIGURATION.
BY THE REV. DANIEL BAGOT, B.D., OF EDINBUBGH.
VII.— The Proposal of Peter.
** Then answered Peter, and said ante Jeans, Lord, it is good for ns to be here : if thou wilt, let ui make here three tabernacles; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias/*
Whatever accounts are contained in the word of God of the sayings and doings of holy men of old, have been written for oar instruction ; and the Spirit has had our edification and comfort as much in view, in the history which he has given of their failings, as of their graces. It is well for us that we have a perfect model of unsullied purity in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was holy, harmless, and undefiled ; but if all t)ie examples which the word of God contains were those of complete and perfect holiness, we should be de- terred and discouraged in our endeavours to attain to any progress in sanctification. This, however, is not the case. The Bible has been constructed upon principles of utility. We there see what degree of virtue may be attained to by men of like passions with ourselves. Indeed, the only example of perfec- tion is that of the Saviour : the accounts of his people
THE TRANSFIGUBATION. 499
are, more or less, histories of failing, imperfeetion, or prejadice. This remark applies with peculiar pro- priety to the history of the apostle Peter, which is one of the most instractiye which the New Testament contains. His character was so ardent and impeta- oas, that he frequently anticipated in his condact the decisions of his judgment, and obtruded himself into diificalt positions which he had not strength to occupy. What a striking proof of this is presented in the account of our Saviour's transfiguration : even then the apostle could not restrain the enthusiastic ardour of his feelings, but, under the influence of strong excitement, he exclaimed, '* Lord, it is good for us to be here : if thou wilt, let us make here three tabernacles ; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias."
The evangelist Luke has informed us, that Peter and they that were with him *' were heavy with sleep " during a part of this splendid scene, and has pronounced the following short but emphatic com- mentary upon the proposal of the apostle—'* not knowing'What he said : '* a commentary dictated and recorded by the Spirit of God, which shews that the words of the apostle were not the result of calm and sober reflection, but were, in themselves, expressive of much absurdity and error. We must, therefore, be guided by this in our examination of the language before us. Let us, then, with great humility, and with a simple and special view to our own instruc- tion, endeavour to find out in what it was that the error of this proposal of Peter consisted.
Had the apostle been able to restrain his feelings, so as to have reflected upon the position in which he was, he would have seen that it was wrong in him to
SKS
600 THE TRAKSFI6URATI0K.
speak upon this occasion at all. He bad been broaght there by Jesus to be a spectator, but nothing more. It is one of the first departments of sound wisdom, to determine when we ought to speak, and when we ought to be silent. There are two yaluable rules on this point to which we should do well to take heed : we should be silent whenever any subject is dis- cussed upon whieh we have little or no information to offer, and tirhenever we are in the presence of per- sons who are well acquainted with a subject on which we are ignorant. The apostle should have attended to both of these rules when he was on the mount of transfiguration. He was only a learner, receiving the first rudiments of spiritual knowledge from his divine Master, and knew far too little at the time of the nature of the Redeemer's kingdom, to authorise him to make any proposal, such as that which he made on this occasion. In the presence, too, of Moses and Elias and the Saviour, it was his duty and his safety to remain silent. The position and attitude of the apostle, and of every child of God, should be that of Mary, who sat at the feet of Jesus, and listened to the words of divine instruction and consolation which were uttered by him.
He would also have felt that it was wrong for him to say, in the manner and at the time when he uttered these words, " It is good for us to be here.'' From the proposal annexed to this remark, it is evident that his meaning was — to remain there. To a certain extent it was good to be on the moun- tain, but the time had elapsed when it was correct to have said this ; for St. Luke expressly says, that it was as Moses and Elias departed that Peter spoke. We may learn from this, that unless we have a very
THE TRANSFIGURATION. 501
distinct evidence that it is good for us, in the judg- ment of Christ, to be in any particalar place at any special time, it is dangeroas for as to use such abso- Iqte and positive language. In such oases it is better for us to say, *' It is good for us to be wherever the Lord chooses." He is best judge of his people's character, and what change of place and circum- stances may be best calculated to promote their spi- ritual welfare. Language so unqualified cannot al- ways be safely used on this side of glory. When we shall have entered into the presence of our blessed Redeemer, and shall resemble him in purity and bliss, then may we adopt these words as the constant expression of our grateful joy, and continually say, '* It is good for us to be here."
Had the apostle been able to reflect, he would never have supposed that the Lord would have regulated the condition of glorified saints so as to promote the Imaginary comfort of his people on earth. Because Peter felt, in a moment of excitement, that it was good to be on the mountain, should Moses and Elias be detained, and obliged to dwell there in taber- nacles ?. This is not the principle on which God acts. The church, which is militant here on earth, must sustain her own trials, endure her own toils, and suflfer whatever the Lord appoints, until the time of her glorification shall arrive; nor must she expect that those who have entered into rest should be stripped of aught of their blessedness, ib order to make her condition more comfortable.
Nor would he have thought of none but himself and James and John, when he said, ** It is good for itf to be here*" What would have become of the other apostles— what would have become of the
502 THE TBAMSFIOURATION.
Jewish and Gentile sinnen, if his proposal coold have been aoeeded to ? How tiable we are, in the fatness of our own enjoyments, to disregard and overlodL the wants of others ! Nor is this the ease merely in reference to temporal enjoyments. Our selfishness too frequently mixes itself ap with our Christianity, and when we are enjoying eommanion with God, we are too apt to forget the spiritnal dea- titation of oar fellow-creatares. This ought not to be the case: so far from it, we should always be ready to relinquish our own comforts, and like the apostle Paul, to endure all things for the sake of others, that they may also obtain the salvation which is in Christ Jesus with eternal glory*
But the plan of the apostle, could it have been ac- ceded to, would have been the means of detaining the Saviour on the mountain, so as to prevent bis finishing the work which the Father had given him to do, by dying upon the cross for man's redemption ! There was in this proposal too much of that spirit which the same apostle had displayed on another oceasion, when, on the Lord having declared that he was shortly to suffer, he exclaimed, ** That be far from thee ! " — ^Alas ! if such a proposal could have been accepted, what would have become of the world ? — ^what would have become of the apostle himself?— what of Moses and Elias? The justice of heaven would soon have interposed and interrupted the ar- rangement, exclaiming in a voice more appalling than that which was heard at Sinai—*' Arise, for this is not ypur rest ; your happiness can only be pur- chased by blood ; the path of suffering can alone conduct you into the tabernacles of peace, and bles- sedness, and joy."
THE THAKSFIGURATION. 503
And had Peter been able to reflect upon this pro- posal before he gave htterance to it, he would have seen the absurdity of his imagining that he ooald make tabernacles ! How could he have made them ? What material had he within his reach fit to erect mansions in which Jesas or his glorified people could have resided? Verily the church would have been but sadly accommodated in a tabernacle of Peter's manufacture. The Lord alone can prepare suitable dwellings for his people. The tabernacles in which they can find peace and joy, must be ** buildings of God, houses not made with hands, eternal in the hea- vens.'^ To Christ alone must exdusiTcly belong the glory of our salvation from first to last. He must be both the author and the finisher of our faith.
But the plan which the apostle proposed was one which would have excluded himself. His language was, '^ Let us make three tabernacles ; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one^ for Elias/' But what was to have become of himself? did he intend to shut himself out from the enjoyment of his Saviour's more immediate presence? If the apostle could have sup- posed that he was manifesting humility in this, he was much mistaken. There is no humility in offer- ing to shut ourselves out of heaven. But, indeed, we have here an illustration of what fools we become when we give way to our excited feelings, and of what a display of absurdity we should witness if God were to allow his church to regulate her own affairs, without the salutary direction -and judicious control of his wisdom and grace.
And think of a plan which would separate the Sa- viour from his people, and give to him no better ac- commodation than to Moses and Elias ! In our glo-
504 THE TRAirSFIGURATIOHr.
rifled state, the Saviour and his people are to be toge- ther: no walls shall separate them from each other: where he is, there they shall be likewise. Still be must ever retain his proper snperiority — ^be mast be the chief among: ten thousand, and the altogether lovely, the first-born among many brethren.
And, finally, it was wrong in the apostle to suppose that the Lord would have then established his king- dom. For there was, most likely, a confused recol- lection in the mind of Peter of the prophecy which is written in the 16th verse of the 14th chapter of Zechariah, where mention is made of persons coming up to Jerusalem, after Christ shall have appeared as ' king, to keep the feast of tabernacles. This was in- deed the common error of all the apostles, during the Saviour's public ministry, to suppose that he was about to set up his kingdom at the time of his first advent, whereas it was necessary that he should first suffer before he could enter into his glory, and that the cross should be the main pillar of his throne. Had the apostle been able to attend to the subject of the conversation in which Jesus had just engaged with Moses and Elias, he could not have fallen into this error.
From this brief review of the proposal of Peter, we may see the justness of the inspired remark of the Evangelist, that ** he knew not what he said," and may feel no surprise that his proposition did not re- ceive the slightest attention. We see, too, how mnch we are benefited by having the errors and infirmities of the saints recorded for our instruction. Let us then learn to cultivate much- forbearance towards each other, seeing that the very best and most distin- guished of the Lord's people are continually liable to
THB TRANSFIGURATION. 505
display mach weakness in their present earthly and imperfect state.
VIII. — THB HEAVENLY TRSTIMONT.
" Wbile lie yet spake* bebold a bright cloud overshadowed fhem : and behold a voice out of the cloud which said. This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased, hear ye him j and when the disciples heard it, they fell on their fkces and were sore aflraid. And Jesus came and touched them, and said. Arise, and be not afiraid. And when they had lifted up their eyes they saw no man save Jesus only."
This part of the solemn and sahlime transactions connected with the transfigaration of our blessed Lord, mast always be regarded as most important by every believer; whatever shews the interest which heaven takes in the work of Christ, and proves that the Father is well pleased with the incarnation of the Son, mast ever be the means of strengthening the faith, invigorating the hope, and contributing to the encoaragement and consolation of the Christian. There was no reply given by the Saviour to the pro- posal of the apostle Peter. This was annecessary, as the bright and splendid occurrence which imme- diately followed, soon expelled the delusion from his mind. Thus shall it be hereafter with every believer ; All errors of judgment shall be at once dispelled by the glorious appearing of the great God and our Sa- viour Jesus Christ
' We are here told that a bright cloud overshadawed the disciples. A cloud was the symbol of the pre- sence of God. He appeared upon Sinai in a cloud ; for so we read in the 9th verse of the 19th chapter of Exodus—'' ho, I come unto thee in a thick cloud,
506 THB TRANSFIGUBATIOK.
that the people may hear when I speak with thee, and believe thee for ever.'* The object of this mode of God's manifesting himself was, that he might soften down and temper the exceeding brightness of his glory, so as to sait the weakness and infirmity of man. Snoh is the condition of onr present limited facnltieSythat we could not gase npon the amazing splendoor of the Divine Majesty, and live. Eyen in his nnfallen state, man coald not bear the fall pre- sence of his Creator, and therefore God conyersed with Adam in a human form : how much less, then, coald man now, in his sinful and degraded condition, look upon the face of God and live. If the glory of God could have been to Adam in Paradise an over- powering brightness, that same glory would be to men now as a consuming fire. In tender compassion, then, to our weakness, the Almighty modifies the ma- nifestations of his presence* On this occasion it was a light cloud that overshadowed them, bat under the law it was a thick and dark one. This, as it has been well observed, was for the purpose of forming a kind of symbolical contrast between the light of grace and truth which has been introduced by Jesus Christ, and the darkness of the legal dispensation which was only the shadow of good things to come.
But let us attend in humility and grateful wonder to the voice which issued from the cloud, ** This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased ; hear ye him." Such a testimony as this could have been uttered by none but God. No other being in heaven could have said, in reference to Jesus, '^ This is my beloved Son." When God speaks, his language car- ries with it self-evident demonstration that it comes from the King Eternal, immortal, and invisible. His
THE TRANSFIGURATION. 507
words as well as his works bear the impress of their divine Original ; so that men are left entirely without excuse, who refuse to listen to what he says ; and their infidelity never results from any defect of eyi- dence, bnt altogether from themselves.
Every word contained in this wonderful decla- ration must be understood in its highest and most emphatic sense. Jesus is here said to be the Son of God. He is so in a sense peculiar to himself. Others are sons of God by creation, as Adam was; others by adoption, and by their exercise of faith in Christ; — bnt Jesus is the Son of God in a sense so peculiar as to imply his complete oneness of power and prerogative, and therefore of nature, with the Father. The Saviour himself asserts, as it is written in the 5th chapter of St. John's gospel, that his being the Son of God implies his complete participation in the performance of the worics, and reception of the honours which are proper to God — '' My Father,'' he says, '^worketh hitherto, and I work:" and again — *' The Son can do nothing of himself but what he seeth the Father do : for what things soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise. For the Father loveth the Son, and sheweth him all things that him- self doeth ; and he will shew him greater works than these, that ye may marvel. For as the Father raiseth up the dead, and quickeneth them, even so the Son qnickeneth whom he will. For the Father judgeth no man, bnt hath committed ail judgment unto the Son : that all men should honour the Son even as they honour the Father. He that honoureth not the Son, honoureth not the Father which hath sent him.'' There are, indeed, some persons who would argue, that the very title of ** Son of God'' necessarily im-
508 THE TRANSFIGURATION.
plies the inferiority of the Savioar to his hearenlj Father. As well might sach persons argae, that the title of *' Son of Man " necessarily implies his inferi- ority to men.
Bat of whom does the everlasting Father say, << This is my beloved Son ? '* Even of him who gave himself for us, and suffered the indescribable agonies of the cross for our redemption. We perceive, then, the use we should make of this great doctrine of the Saviour's dignity as the Son of 6od« We should meditate upon it for the purpose of seeing more of the love of God in giving his Son» and of the love of the Son in giving himself for us ; for we should esti- mate this love in proportion to the dignity of the Saviour ; '' God lo loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life/'
And Jesus is not only the Son, but the '' beloved Son'' of God. He is the peculiar object of an affec- tion which the most exalted angel in heaven cannot possibly comprehend. Before this world was brought into existence, even from old, from everlasting, the Son dwelt in the bosom of the Father, and was the object of a love which none but God could feel, and none but God could understand. Oh I who shall venture to speak upon this amazing theme! The love of God to the world is a great and mysterions subject; but the love of God. to his only-begotten Son, is a subject so sublime and transcendant, that we can only exclaim when we approach it, '* Oh the depths ! '* Let us not, then, dwell upon a topic which is too wonderful for us, except so for as may be necessary to have our gratitude to God for his unspeakable gift, kindled into a flame which shall
THE TRAlfSFIGURATIOK. 509
bum more brightly as we grow in grace, and in the knowledge of Christ Jesas oar Savioor.
But observe the important testimony which is ap- pended to this emphatic declaration of the Saviour's dignity — ^' In whom I am well pleased/' Such an unqualified testimony as this has never been given of any who have appeared in the form of man since the fall. But of Jesus it is uttered without reserva- tion or exception. The Father is well pleased with him, because he is holy, harmless, and undefiled, and reflects in his person the unsullied purity and un- bounded love of God. He is well pleased with him, because he has undertaken the ofiSce of a Saviour, and has rendered the manifestation of mercy, in vrhich God takes delight, consistent with the main- tenance of justice, which he could never compromise nor violate. What a source of strong consolation the believer has in this reflection, that the Son was acting in complete compliance with the Father's will, in giving himself to be a Saviour and a sacri- fice to man, and that the Father is not only well pleased with the work of the Son, but that on this very account does the Father love him, because he laid down his life for the sheep.
There is also a practical injunction added to this declaration. The voice that issued from the cloud on Tabor uttered this command, in reference to the incarnate Son of God — " Hear him.'' These words were not pronounced as part of the testimony which was heard from heaven on the occasion of the Sa- viour's baptism, which, with this exception, was the same as that delivered on the occasion of his transfi- guration. They were probably added in this place oil account of the proposal of Peter. The voice of
510 THE TRANSFIGintATION.
the apostle was not to be heard ; the ▼oioe of Jeaas is to be alone attended to. He is head over all things to his ohnroh; he has been given as a leader and commander to his people ; he alone is to have antho- rity, and no subordinate or inferior ministry shoald .ever encroach upon his proper and rightful prero- gatives.
Thus, we perceif e, that the annoancement which came from heaven on this occasion consisted of three distinct claases. Some have thought that these were intended to refer to the three offices which Christ SQStains, and that they have been derived from the three leading departments of the Old Testament: that the first claase, ** This is my beloved Son," has a reference to the kingly power of Christ, who is spoken of in the'Gth and 7th verses of the 2nd Psalm, as the Son of God exalted as King opon the holy hill of Zion : that the second claase, '* in whom I am well pleased/' has a reference to his priestly office, in the execution of which he magnified the law by a sacrifice well-pleasing to God, according to the declaration of Isaiab, in the 21st verse of his 42nd chapter, ''The Lord is well pleased for his righteousness' sake: he will magnify the law, and make it honourable:'' and that the third clause, '' Hear him,'' refers to his prophetical office, and is spoken in allusion to the prediction of Moses re- corded in the 15th verse of the 18th chapter of Dea- teronomy, " The Lord thy God will raise up unto thee a Prophet from the midst of thee, of thy bre- thren, like unto me ; unto him shall ye hearken."
We are now arrived at the conclusion of the his- tory of this splendid transaction. '' When the dis- ciples heard the voice, they fell on their face and
THE TRANSFIGURATION. 511
were sore afraid." When God speaks in the lan- guage of aothority, it is no wonder that men should tremble. The Yoice of God fills the soul of man with fear on account of his sinfulness and weakness. But, blessed be God ! we can never be so cast down and overwhelmed with terror, as that the mild and merciful command of Him, who is our righteousness and strength, shall prove ineffectual in restoring us to a state of tranquillity and peace. When the dis- ciples were lying prostrate on the ground, in appre- hension and dismay, '* Jesus came and touched them, and said. Arise, ^nd be not afraid." Thus, whenever we feel the Saviour's touch, our hearts are instantly filled with that love which casteth out fear, and his voice at once restores the sweetest confidence to the most dejected soul. The narrative concludes by telling us, that ** when the disciples lifted up their eyes, they saw no man, save Jesas only." All was now over. The splendid scenery had now departed. Their eyes could bear the sight no longer, nor could this world any longer contain that light and glory, which can only remain as the permanent embellish- ment of that new earth in which righteousness shall for ever dwell. Moses and Elias were taken away : Jesus was left to finish the work which the Father had given him to do, and the apostles to sustain the trials, and discharge the labours that awaited them, encouraged by the bright and happy prospect of ap- pearing again, not as spectators only, but as the im- mediate companions of their glorified Master, in that eternal kingdom of blessedness and immortality which it is the ultimate design of his mediation to establish over the whole extent of a renovated earth.
512
PSALM t. 5.
*' Therefore the ungodly shaU not stand in the jadgment, nor sinners in the ooogregation of the rigliteofu.'*
Many are the incidental alJasions to important doc- trines which lie scattered, as with a careless hand, thrciaghoat the word of God. Often these references are not understdod by those who peruse the passages where they occur. They remain hidden until some peculiar state of the church , or the prominence of some peculiar controversy or article of faith, dis- covers them at once to our view; as the near and partial flashing of a torch will bring out figures from the dark back-ground of a picture, which had been before unseen, amid the broad and general light of day.
The passage which I have placed at the head of this paper, is a striking testimony to the truth of this fact. The great point to which it alludes has been so entirely overlooked by the fran^ers of our English nrersion, that they have translated it in quite a dif- ferent sense to what the original clearly implies. Martin Luther had done the same before them ; and we can only attribute this to the sinking of many invaluable portions of divine truth, in the all-absorb- ing question of ' Popery, or no Popery ? — Rome and slavery, or the Bible and freedom ? ' which was, with both Luther and our own Reformers; the ^atchword of the church. Other subjects were deemed of more
VSALM I. 5. 513
or less iroportaaoe, in proportion as they bore upon the grand matter then at issaein the straggle between Scripture light and Popish darkness.
Since those times, fresh topics have taken the place of these. Conformity and non-conformity once split the Church of England. Calvinism and Arminianism split it again, though not so visibly. Millenarianism and Anti-Millenarianism afterwards took their places, and made many a rent in the texture of the religious world ; and even these have lately given way before tike disputes arising out of the Puseyite controversy.
Now in each of these successive eras of the £ng-> lish church, the points chiefly in dispute have been deemed the most important points of religion. Organs and surplices were considered quite as momentous things in the days of our first James, as ' bell, book and candle,' had been in those of Elizabeth. ' The ^ye points,' and the ' number of the beast,^ have since occupied their places, as. objects of controversy ; the same place now held by ' the Apostolic succession,'. ' the system of reserf e in preaching,' and the excel- lence of tradition.
Thus the wheel has gone round ; now one part up- permost to public view, and now another ; and ac- cording to the subject disputed, has been the supreme importance attached to certain parts of scrii^ure, and the lack of attention paid topthers. Some have dispa- raged the epistle to the Hebrews, — Luther questioned that of St. James ; while John Wesley went so far as to paste up the ninth chapter of that to the Ro- mans. The book of Revelation has sometimes su- perseded all other portions of the Bible ; while, at other periods^ it has been as a sealed book, scarcely to be opened, even by the clergy.
Juvu, 1840. s L
514 PSALM 1. 6.
All this is alike wrong. ** AH scripture is giTen by inspiration of God, and is profitahle iox" the va- rious necessities of tbe church. One book is not to be supremely extolled, nor another unjustly depre- ciated ; every part has its peculiar bearing on tbe mighty whole of the Christian system.
Perhaps the good which results from this evil, (for we know that every apparent evil carries its respec- tive good in its bosom,) is the bringing out the full meaning of particular books and passages of holy writ, and the fliscovery of many previously unnoticed allusions to subjects which are apparently oncon- nected with the texts where the allusions are found.
This has been especially the case with prophetic subjects. By the controversy upon them, light has been thrown on many an obscure passage and par- able, and several apparently dim prophecies, when compared with each other in this fresh illumiaation, have stood out in clear and conspicuous forms. , Probably my readers have never perceived any pos- sible reference to '* the first resurrection '* in the first Psalm. Yet there is a very clear and striking one, though it is much obscured by the translation. The literal rendering of the fifth verse runs thus, '^ For this (reason) the wicked (or condemned) shall not rise, in that judgment: nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous,'' (or justified,) The difference from the common version will be seen at once. I do not wish to deny that the Hebrew verb koom, here spoken o£ the ungodly, signifies also to stand; bat that is its secondary meaning, its primary one is to rise ; which will be evident to common sense, if we remember that a person or thing must rise up previously to standing.
PSALM I. 5. 615
The idea of standing is not, moreover, quite con- sistent with good sense : the not gtanding ^* in the jadgment ** does not convey the meaning which oar translators seem to have intended. ** I shall not be able to stand," or to remain standing, is Wickliffe's version, as found in oar Prayer*hooks, and is nearer the sense purposed to be given; but for this the Hebrew gives no warrant. " They shall not * riw,* " is the plain and literal meaning of it.
Now the fact here alluded to, that there shall be, at the close of the present dispensation, a resurrec- tion of the righteous, and of them alone, is evidently proved by Rev. xx. 4, 5; where the apostle sees the risen saints living and reigning '* with Christ a thousand years;'' while the wicked, or*' the rest of the dead lived not again until the thousand years were finished. This is the first resurrection." This exactly corresponds with the passage we are consid- ering; ^' the ungpdiy shall not risef** they shall not leave their graves, they shall not appear at all in that judgment; it is a judgment of reward, not of punishment; nor shall they enter the assembly of the righteous.'' f ndeedj it would cease to consist exclu- sively of the righteous, if the sinners were admitted into it.
Should it be here objected that '* the first resur- rection is only a resurrection of principles, not of persons,"— we reply that there is evidently a resur- rection peculiar to the righteous, and if it he not ^* the first resarrection,'' whatis.it? Now, that it is peculiar to the saints, is shewn by our Lord's speak- ing of those who '* shall be counted worthy to obtain that world, and the returreetion from the dead," and
'* who are equal to the angels." (Luke xx. 35.) St.
a L a
516 PSALlf L 5.
Paul expresses his great desire to ^* atttnuy by any means, unto the remrreetion of the dead/' (Phil. iii. 11.) Now we icnow that some kind of resorreetiQii is eommon to all men, and they mast ^' attain to " it, whether they will or no ; how then can any diffiealty, or condition of worthiness, attach to it? It mast be a different resarreotioii from that; it mast be that *' better resnrreotion ** of which St Pan! speaks (Heb. xi. 85.) as the object for which the Old Tes- tament saints endured their afflictions and torments. He tells the Thessalonians expressly, that at the coming of the Lord, ** the dead in Christ shall rise first ; '' (1 Thess. It. 16.) and what can these pas- sages mean, if they do not allude to one great fact, <* the first resurrection,^ that of the saints ?
This doctrine was better known to the Old Testa- ment saints than to many Christians in our day. The persecuted martyrs and prophets underwent their sufferings in the assured hope of this joyful rising to *' glory, honour, and immortality;''^ and we see that David makes express mention of it in his very first Psalm.
Let Christians then follow in the stepli of these Jewish saints ; looking for that blessed hope and the glorious coming of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ ; '' knowing that then we shall be like Him, for we shall see him as he is."
A.F.
6J7
THINGS OF OLD. No. IV.
THE DELUGE.
I HAVE formerly said so maeh about the deluge, ths^t J fear my readers will be tempted to impatience at the repetition of the title. But svhat I have already, given are the traditions of Pagan nations upon thia interesting subject: I purpose now to select some information from Christian writers, which may thrqw light upon the oircumstanees attending that stupen- dous judgment.
• First, let us glance at the theory of Whiston, which pronounces the flood to haye been caused by a comet That a comet appeared at that time, with other extraordinary celestial phenomena, is highly iHTobable, and is indeed recorded by many heathen authors. A falling star or blazing comet, is fre-. quently connected with those periods of their narra- tives which refer to the general deluge ; and no doubt such a flaming visitant would heighten the terrors of that awful scene. The attraction of sqch a body might also commence the agitation of the waters ; but, in spite of all Whiston's ingenious calculations, we cannot conceive its power sufficient for the break- ing up ** the fountains of the great deep," and the opening: of " the windows of heaven.''
518 THINGS OF OLD.
One very great mistake has been made by some distingaished writers upon the deluge, who have affirmed that the antedilavian world was a plain, withoat any hills or mountains whatever. Besoartes and Burnet led the way ; and in oar own days. Dr. Groly seems inclined to follow them, in the com- mencement of his divine Providence, thoagh he afterwards clearly contradicts the theory. It may well be matter of surprise to a cool, impartial reader, who has no system to support, how these excellent men could overlook the plain, unambiguous statement that *^ the tops of the high hilU " and " mountains under the whole heavens were covered." (Gen. vii. 19, 20.) This must have met their eyes every time they glanced at the Mosaic narrative of the event they were describing. Had they stated that the ante- diluvian world was an island, instead of a plain, they would have stated that which scripture does not contradict, and which is strongly supported by tradition and probability ; for, besides the descrip- tion of the deluge, constantly given by profane au- thors, as " the sinking of a large island,*' we may argue that had the whole world consisted of separate continents, divided from each other by oceans, the untutored nations of those times could never have reached such distant shores. If, as Sanchoniatbo tells us, the rude boat, made from the trunk of a tree, was not invented until the fourth generation from Adam, while the sons of Noah built the first complete ship, we may well admit that an Atlantic ocean, or even an Irish channel would have been an impassable barrier to the spread of so barbarous a population.
Another very interesting point, conneoted with
THINGS OF OLD, 519
this sabjeot, is the sabmeigence of the old world beneath our present ocean, at the deluge, and the consequent identity of our dry land with the ocean bed of other days ; a fact which we are not at liberty to doubt, since it is proved by the Bible itself, and .also asserted by geology.
Let us first look to the scriptural warrant for the opinion. Probably some of my readers may not have observed that remarkable passage in Gen. vi* 13. — ''And behold, I will destroy them with the earth." Now the sinners of that world were destroyed utterly, not even their fossil bones have yet been found, and is it not reasonable that the term destroy, when used in reference to the earth, should mean more than a washing over with water. Such a process, however violent, could not be called destroying the earth. The Hebrew word sigpnifies to break down, or to catue to perish. Again, St. Peter in his second epistle, ch. iii. ver, 6, says, that ^* the world that then was, being overflowed with water, perished,*' or was destroyed, where the Greek word means all but annihilation. There might, however, be a possibility of our over- straining the expressions of scripture : let us hear, what geology, unconnected with religion, says on this subject. De Luc, in his Lettres Geologiques, says, ' This change, from the bed of the sea to our present continents, is so fully established, that the chief object of geology is now only to explain it.' Lyell, D'Ambuisson and Cuvier support the state* ment, and the latter great leader of French science •ays plainly, ' The geologists argue only in this, that tMt sea has changed its piaee,' (Discourse Relin,) In« deed the beds of marine shells, now found upon oar monntain*tops, inost, from their appearance, have
520 TBIHGS OF OUD,
bean fonned tbese, durinif long* periods, wli^o tbtae moantains were under tbe iea, and have been sab- Mqnently raised to their present althode. Tke bfief and agitated innndation of the deloge oonld net hAvt formed those rast, oontinoous beds of sea-shells.
If, then, these plain facts,— of the total snbsidenee of the former world and tbe elevation of the present one,r-be granted, (and I do not see bow itoaii be denied,) my readers will at onee perceive that a death-blow is giYcn to a host of theories whieb de-^ pend npon the contrary proposition. Such are all the schemes of a partial delnge, which overflowed Asia, Enrope, and Africa, leaving America nntonoh- ed, beoanse it was as yet uninhabited; all the queries as to whether tbe pyramids are antedilavian, and whether tbe Seriadic pillars and the pillars of Seth have remained through the flood ;-«aH the disserts* tioBS npon the site of Eden, the geografAy of its four rivers, and the lands through which they flowed ; all these are demolished at one stroke, for if the sofainer- genoe theory be trae, America did not then eaust, to be either deloged or omitted, — Eden with all its beauty, its groves, its rivers, and theic neighbouring' lands, are nndonl^edly at the bottom of the sea, and the pyramids and pillars, if built before tbe flood, would centainJy now be there also.
The only objection which has ever been uiged with any shew of saccess against this most scriptural and scientific theory is drawn from these four rivers of Eden, and the lands which they fertilissed in their progress. Np one seems to have been able to iden- tify them with oertainty, excepting^ the Euphrates* The Hiddekel has been said to be the Tigris; and no doubt the Hiddekel of Daniel was such. The land
THINGS OF OLD. 521
of HUtilah Is also adduced as being In existence long after the Deh^e ; while Assyria and Ethiopia remain to this day. AH this looks very formidiahle ; and one of the most ]^ons and able writers who emer handled the sabject, (I will not name him,) was so terrified by this array of hostility, that he actaally attempted to set aside the whole passage (Gen. ii. 10—15,) as a marginal gloss, which had crept into the text* Sveh a wanton matilation of scripture is not to be endnred, oTen to sopport the best theory ever known. If wo cot oot a few verses from Genesis, the next person that comes by may cat oot a few verses from Exodas, and those verses may happen to contain the Ten Commandments. The above worthy author was Seized with a needless panic, however; by a tittle care, he might have retained the text and the theory too. Let as just review tiie objections ieriatimf and briefly see their real importance. First Great stress has been laid upon the passages,— '* The name of the first is Pison," &c., as implying the present existence of these rivers ; bat it mast be remembered that " i$" is not in the original, and the Hebrew (that laogoage not possessing a strictly prir^Ait tense) does not imply whether the rivers are now, or were at some previons era, so called; and even the words *^ compasseth,'' ** goeth," &c. are not in the present tense in the ori- ginal, bat merely assert the fact of the rivers' coarses being in sach and sach directions, at some indefinite time*
Secondly. Where is *' the land of Havilah ? " Two persons of that name are mentioned in Gen. x*— the one a son of Cash, the other of Joktan ; their posses- sions are placed very far apart by sacred geographers, those of the former in the west of Africa^ those of tho
522 THINGS OF OLD.
latter in the heart of Asia. One of these, probably the Asiatic one, is mentioned Gen. xxv. 18; the lodas or Ganges woold be the river nearest to it, aa the Niger would be to the African Havilah.
Thirdly. Which Ethiopia is here meant? for an- cient writers have enamerated as many as half a dozen countries so called. If it be the African one, sonth of Egypt, its river mast be the Nile*
Fourthly. We have already said that Daniers Hiddekel was probably the Tigris ; but there is no reason why this river of Eden should be the same as that he mentions ; and as for the Euphrates, so much relied upon, its Hebrew name is Pheat, which simply means fruitful^ and will apply to any river whose banks are fertile.
Fifthly* Will any of my objecting readers* still be- lieving in the present existence of these rivers, point me out the spot where the Tigris, the Niger, the Indus (or Ganges), the Nile, and Euphrates all rise toge* ther ? Do they not rather rise in far distant places, in separate continents, and almost ' wide as the poles asunder?'
These objections, then, are not valid, when the pre- sent being of these localities is contradicted by both scripture and science. But let ns hasten to give a rational cause for these modern names being men- tioned here ; and one which will equally defend our theory against Sanchoniatho, when he asserts that Cassius, Libanus, Anti-Iibanus, &c., dwelt in. the mountains now (Sailed by their names. Perhaps the Phoenician says this only by way of evading the De- luge altogether ; but be this as it may, it is of little moment. Have we not daily evidence before our eyes that the dwellers of a new world have an uncon-
THIKGS OF OLD. 523
qaerable predilection for naming its localities after those of the old one which they have quitted, and bestowing opon fresh and untrodden spots those ap- pellations endeared to them bj the associations of their earliest infancy ? and why might not the Orien- tals do the same ?
He would be indeed a bold man who should assert that London was nothing more than a second*rate sea-port in the state of Connecticut ; or that the me- tropolis of England and that marine town must be one and the same place, because they bear the same name, and both stand oh the river Thames. Why, then^ should it be so tenaciously maintained that spots of which we read before the flood were one and the same with the places to ^hich the same names are now given, probably in remembrance of the ori- ginal localities ?
Let us rather extend to the family of Noah the same liberty, of giving old names to new places, which every American backwoodsman takes for himself; and instead of contradicting both scripture and geo- logy, in order to establish the identity of the present world with the ^* destroyed" one of antiquity, let us allow that the Hiddekel, Assyria, and Eqphrates of later times were only revivals of former associations, — ^mmporials of lands and rivers in the world of other days.
X. Q.
fi24
ON FEASTING.
Dbar Madam, I GRATEFULLY acknowledg^c that I have often reeeiired much profit and correction from the admonilioBS and reproofo contained in yonr most Talnable periodioB^ and I hope that, if jon think the subject of safficieBt importance, yon will not object to give these few liiMS a place amongst them* I like not to point out the iDConsistencies of Christians, but I trust there is no enemy in onr camp, and that suggestions of this sort will but roase ns to watchfulness, and be for mntnal edification. The evil to which I desire to call the attention of your readers, is the prevalent custom which exists amongst the rich disciples of Jesus, of continually giving to each other splendid and expen- sive entertainments, in direct violation (as it ap- pears to m^) of the i^sitive cmnmand of onr blessed Lord and Master—*' When thou makest a dUm^ or a sapper, call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbours/' ioo. See Luke xiii. 12—14.
I am aware that this is open to much argument, and far be it from me to take an ascetic or one-sided view of this question ; but do we not all vastly err on the side of luxury, and are not our feasts prepared as though no such words as these existed in that book which we profess to be our rule of life ? Indeed I
ON FEASTING. 625
cannot reconcile to my conscience the endless variety of dainties with which one ' Christum lady ^ endea- Toars to oatYie another, for purposes of mere show. Independent of the waste of time and money, does it not generally impede, if not altogether prevent the intercoarse which should subsist between those who are " members one of another," and of a crucified Lohl ? Woald it not be much better if the refresh- ment of our bodies were a secondary consideration, and the union and communion of our souls our jp'eat concern? Alas! the reverse is too generally the fact ; * the dinner ' is the thing which is talked about, and thought about, and so fiir is this grovelling notion current in the Christian world, (if I may be allowed the expression) that many homely people of moderate means feel themselves debarred the enjoyment of re- ceiving their friends ; because forsooth they cannot tickle their palates with French cookery, or delight their eyes with a ser?ice of plate ! But I would not use a trifling word ; I think the subject has been overlooked or not sufficiently regarded. Should this feeble suggestion be approved by yon, dear madam, or be taken up by one of your able correspondents, and set forth so as to be of service to any who are looking to be saved, and anxious ^ta walk in the strait and narrow path, it will more than gratify the earnest desire of
Your very devoted and grateful reader,
A. T. N.
526
LETTER FROM DR. NORTON.
HiUhead, 13M May, 1840. Dear Madam, I HAVE only this day seen your review of my * Me- moirs of the Macdonaids ; ' which, although edito> rialiy yours, I feel almost sure was written not by you, but by some enemy in disguise. Had you simply expressed an opinion respecting the merits of my worlc, you would have been fairly irresponsible for that opinion and the expression of it. But the case is very different when you defame ray Christian cha- racter and that of my friends, by an injurious /a&« accusation ; and this you have done in imputing to as * blasphemous heresy concerning our Lord's human nature,' and identifying us with the writings and preaching of Mr. Irving on that subject This latter charge you most inconsistently yourself acknowledge that I would and do disclaim. I have not done so at any length or prominently, for the subject was fo- reign from the subject or the object of my biography ; but surely I have done so most abundantly in that only reference but one which I have made to this painful controversy ; viz. ' So far as I can ascertain, they never read a single volume of Mr. Irving's, or at least not for years after their own views were
LETTER FROM DR. NORTON. 527
established. Not however that they entirely agreed with all that Mr. I. preached and wrote. FiiR from it.' Shoald you think this only a balf-dis- claimer, I would remark that there is a wide differ- ence between what was imputed to Mr. Irring, and what I believe him to have meant. The former I utterly disclaim, repudiate, and abhor ; the latter I regard as an unhappy mixture of truth and error ; to illustrate which, and separate the precious from the vile, not to advocate Irvingism, was the object of one of the chapters of that other work of mine > no- ticed by your reviewer.
With respect to your first abstract charge against me, of ' blasphemous heresy concerning our Lord's bnman nature,' if I have inadequately expressed myself on this most sacred theme, it has only been because all language fails me, when I would seek to magnify enough my Incarnate God. If your abler pen can; I beg yon to indite for me some sentence more highly expressive of the immaculate and imma^ etdable holiness of our Lord's humanity, from the earliest to the latest moment of His wondrous humi- liation, and you. have my authority, nay prayer, that you will tell your readers that such is my creed : and such was that of the subjects of my biography; the enchanting loveliness of whose lives, and the won- derful scenes of their dying rapture, I am amaeed that you could have so shut your eyes upon. I can- not expect you to receive my estimate, but I trust I may take the liberty of enclosing, for your private perusal the accompanying letter from our beloved Mr. — «— which while candidly stating his hesitation
i< Neglected TrutfaB.'
$2d USTTEB FROM D8U NOBTOV.
on the subject of any modern revif al of primitive miracaloas {^fts, so cordially acknowledges * their remarkable piety and dcYOtion/ and that * the hage confidence in divine love, the fervent devotioii, and the holy unction of the Macdonalds were truly worthy of oar seeking/
Your reviewer's exclusive fastening on on^ 8ii|^ posed objectionable featare in their Memoirs, is the more unjust and uncalled-for, inasmach as so far from its being made a prominent feature,, the whole volume contains only one short record of their own expressed sentiments on it, as a controversial ques- tion, viz. the following incidental conclusion of one of their letters — ' With regard to the doctrine of our liord's human nature, we see that He wns in all points tempted like as toe are^ yet without sin* It is a fundamental truth that our Lord took our identical nature, but of course I do not enter into it at pre- sent' This was the farthest length that., the Mac- donalds ever went, or that I have ever gone or meant to go.
I feel therefore that I have much right and mi|cb cause to call upon you to retract,, and, insert this ny denial of year false and injurious accusatipn of ' blasphemous heresy,' as you would utter w^fih a sincere heart the prayer wit^ which o^r Cfhurc)^ teaches us to respond to the divine cpmrn^udment, *' Thou shait not hear false witness against thy neighbour'' — not to say a brother, as I truat, in Christ, and the blessed memory of two departed saints, upon whose last hours, to say nothing of their other experience, the Saviour whom they adored pot a stamp of acknowledgment and honour, which I know scarcely any thing in ail the annals of Christian
LETTER. FbOM DR. NORTON. 529
biography to surpass or even eqaal. With sincere respect for your many Taluable labours,
I am, Madam, Yours faithfully in Christ,
Robert Norton.
We have no hesitation in giving insertion to the foregoing. Dr. Norton does not, like too many of our correspondents, skulk behind a mask, and assail us with denunciations to which, being anonymous, we of course pay no regard. We thank him for bis Christian candour ; and in return, would assure him that it was far from our mind to charge upon him, or upon the Macdonalds, the awful crime of blasphemy. Our meaning, in the brief notice of his book — which was, like every review from the commencement of our periodical, written, not by a concealed enemy, but by the Editor — onr meaning was, to convey a caution that we still feel to be necessary, as to the natural tendency of that work.
It will be remembered that the supposed miracu- lous gift of uttering a language wholly unintelligible alike to the speaker and to the hearers, was first re- ceived by these Macdonalds, a pious and amiable family residing at Portp-Glasgow : that the matter spread rapidly, and in a short time London rang with the marvellous * manifestations ' daily recorriog in the Scots church, under the charge of Mr. Irving ; that extraordinary man verily believing that the Holy Spirit spoke in his church, by uncouth, unna- tural yells proceeding from the lips of young females and others, on which, and on the incoherent ravings that occasionally accompanied them in English, he humbly waited for direction in the work of his min-
JvSK, 1840. 3 M
bdO LSTTBR FROM DR.* NORTON.
istry. Shortly, very shortly after these assomptions, he pabMshed a book, setting forth the view that he had taken of the homan natore of onr Lord Jesaa Christ, which, if the plainest English words are to be taken in their obvioos, aniversally received sense shewed that he did indeed hold what he is accnsed of holding — a most blasphemons heresy, the same that Dr. Norton has, in the foregoing letter, so ener« geticatly, and evidently with sach unfeigned sin- cerity,^'epodiated. For this he was arraigned by the Charoh of Scotland in her General Assembly ; of this he was convicted, and for this he was by her expelled. Among those who rejected with abhorrence the fearfol heresy, many b'teitated to pronounce upon the reality of the supposed gifts : circumstances com- pelled the writer of these remarks to examine the matter very closely, because, with the kind purpose of making her the subject of a miraculous cure, and for other reasons, extraordinary efforts were used to persuade her that to discredit the wonders was to resist the Holy Spirit. This led to the most anxious, most prayerful consideration of the subject : to whole nights added to whole days of searching the scrip- tures with fervent supplication for divine guidance, that she might embrace the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. The result was a firm, a full conviction that the whole matter originated in delusion : that those who first came under its iilfta- ence were misled by their own ardent feelings and heated imaginations, and that others qoiokly seized on it as a means of most unprincipled deception ; as was abundantly proved when God caused their pro- fligacy and dishonesty to be laid bare in the lace of the efaurch and world.
LETTER FBOM OB. NORTON. 581
What it may yet please Htm to do, in these latter days, to the glory of his great name, by miracolonft gifts and mighty manifestations, we shall ere long know: but, setting aside all connection with false doctrine andjoose practice, we most confess there appears to as a very striking contrast between the solemn majesty of divine inspiration, the magnifi- cent flow of thonght and language resulting from its infloence, as recorded in the holy soriptnres, and the wild, disjointed rhapsodical exclamations, consist-^ iog chiefly of snatches from thefragments of broken texts, and ''vain repetitions,'' without measure, of which Dr. Norton has giyen us a good many pages in his Memoirs, as a specimen of the ' utterances ; ' — between the miraculous gift by which men of every nation under heaven, assembled in Jerusalem, were enabled to hear, each in his own tongue, the full statement of the gospel of Christ from the lips of the apostles; and the giving forth of sounds wholly destitute of any meaning,, and therefore wholly un- productive of any edification whatever.
But the point on which Br. Norton insists is that of calling him a blasphemer : on referring to our for- mer * notice/ we find that we have represented the whole paity as * avowing and justifying the blasphe- mous heresy concerning our Lord's human nature, which caused the church of Scotland to eject Mr. Irving.'- We have again looked into the book, and although very little is stated directly bearing on the express point of the fearful heresy referred to, yet was it not natural to draw the inference we did from such passages as these in the letters of the Mac* donalds ? Be it remembered, that Mr. Irving's ^ per- secution' consisted in a solemn trial before the whole
s M 2
58St LETTER FROM DR. NORTON.
chorch, for this very cause ; and George Macdonald writes, ' We sympathise moeh with Mr. Irving, and hate him on oar hearts. '* Blessed are they that are persecuted for righteoasness, for theirs is the kiof^- dom of heaven : " and surely this belongs to bin/ Again, though a whole chapter is devoted lo the con- sideration of those matters on which they differed from Hie so-called chorch of the Irvingites, not one word is written, nor a hint dropped, of dissent lirom the heresy that wa», and is their chief distiDguishing mark. The ' doctrine of ordinances,' as Ihey term it, and some question of precedency belwe^o pastors and the supposed gifted ntterers, form the grounds of their dissent : whereas, had they seen the blasphemy in its true light, surely they would have placed it most prominently forward, as being in itself an abun- dant cause for standing wholly alf»of from its un- happy propounders. Were we not therefore wnr- ranted in condudiug that the subjects of these memoirs, and by consequence their biograplMr» held the objectionable tenets, i^nd are we not now jus- tified in Tcpeating that without as distinct a dis- claimer as Dr. Norton has given us in his letter, the book itself is calculated to promote in the highost degree the cause of Irvingitm?
As to the holy lives and joyful death* of the par- ties concerned, we never disputed that point : it is not the rale by which we are admoaisbed to *^ try the spirits whether they be of Crod." *' To the law and to the testimony" are we referred. God may suffer, as we know that he has of old saflered his children to fall into grievous errors, for the trial of the faith of others ; but we are not to build on the assumed or admitted fact of their •being bis children,
LBTTER FBOM DR. KOBTON. 533
a soperstniotiire of corresponding errors. It maj neem^ onfair to quote an expression to whioh the JBditor has appended an apologetic note, bot cer- tainly we were much shocked on reading the ezr elanation recorded as being uttered by one of those inspired personsy---' Jesus, Jesns ; I ha^e as good a right to Jesns as if I had madb him/ If this does not ftpproaeh to the veiy verge of blasphemy, when spoken by a creature, of the Almighty Creator, we are too fastidious.
Pr. Norton must also -do us the justice to consider that bis refraining, as he acknowledges he has done, from any explanation on his o^n part, or on that of the MaedonaldS) in reference to the grand heresy, must needs leave ^ us under the impression that they held it. Even now, he draws a distinction between what Mr* Irving really held and what he was sup- posed to hold. We well remember, when under the trial before hinted at, having Mr. Irving's wicked book on * Christ's Holiness in Flesh' taken out of our hands by a friend, who laboured indefatigably for what was called our conversicm ; and being told that we were not to regard what he pubUihedf but what he preached* To this the reply was, that so long as his printed statements remained uncontradicted by htm, through the same press, we would take them as the confession of his faith ; and we bought another copy of the book, read it with shuddering abhorrence, and rejected it as being, what we verily believe it to be, a lie of Satan^s coining^ This is what Hr. Norton in his letter also rejects. The only difference between us is, that he does not believe that Mr. Irving meant what every section of .that book distinctly expresses. We are afraid that be did ; and if we therein err, we
634 LETTER FROM BR. NORTOK.
err along with the General Assembly of the charch of Scotland.
In conoliuion, we beg of Dr. Norton to believe that no personal feeling whatever mingled with oar re- marks on his book. We are deeply impressed with the solemn responsibility resting on as in that de- partment over which we grieve to see so little watcb- fulness exercised in some religions periodicals. In the fulfilment of what we regard a sacred duty, we have subjected ourselves to letters bordering on the abusive by persons upholding the tenets of the Ox- ford Tractarians ; not one of whom, however, has had the manliness to aflSx his name to his productioD. We say his, because most of them write in the cha- racter of clergymen; calling on us ex cathedra to re- nounce our unbelief, and to repent of our sins against these divines, and to come out from among the evan- gelicals, whom they denoance with great bitterness. This produces on ns just the opposite effect to that intended by the writers ; but we really grieve to have wounded the feelings of one whose letter bespeaks a truly Christian spirit, and of whom, on his foregoing positive disclaimer, we cheerfully retract what, from the perusal of his work alone, we were constrained to infer aqd to declare, i. e. that h^ held the heretical tenets concerning the human nature of oar Lord pro- pounded by the late Mr. Irving.
635
FRENCH PROTESTANTS. No. IV.
THE PASTOR OF NI8MB8.
RocHBLLE, Montaaban, Nismes ! how many toncbing recollections of past times are gatiiered rodnd tbe old Protestant cities of France 1 Here we see the shock of St Bartholomew's horrors reverberating to the provincial town, and watering its streets with the blood of its Huguenot citisens. There, a people in arms for their civil and political, as well as their religioos rights, contending in vain against an over* whelming power, and casting eager looks over the sea which divided them from their English brethren* in qaest of tha long*-promised bat ever-delayed sac* coar :— there we see the earthly ramparts of the mar- tyr-charch thrown down, and the enemy, armed with fire and sword, walking triamphant over its boanda- ries* Bat no persecution coold entirely quench the flame of devotion which burnt there ; nor death, nor exile, nor penal laws through centuries prolonged, entirely annihilate the * hidden remnant,' nor, the storm of infidelity whioh aacceeded, sweep it away. Tet the light was hidden under a bushel ; lukewarm, fearful, and unresolved, the few Protestants who re- mained in France^ at the close of the last century,
58d FBBMCU FHOTESTAMTS.
\9^m Cor the molt part, igii<irai)it of every tkiog bat the rites of tiieir religioo, and ashamed of openly profeasiog those. Such was the state of the ohnreh at^NisfDoes, when, in the spring of 1805, M. Goatbier became its minister. Oat of a population of fifteen thoQ^and Protestants, scarce fifty attended the Lord's Sapper; and of those who did so, many, ashamed openly to confess their Lord, withdrew for the par* pose to a retired village ten leagues distant.
. M. Goathier possessed that happy anion of ardour and gentleness, which, bamanly speaking, is the cha- racter best adapted to attract the hearts of mankind, and secure an inftuence over them. Bern and brovght up in the humble dwelling of a pious Swiss catuchisl^ he early received frfmi his parents those seeds of the gospel, which were in his soul so abundantly watered by the dew of grace. Educated at the college of Lausanne, he, by the help of God, withstood the false philosophy, which at that period seems, like a rank weed^ to have overgrown all human knowledge. Ar<» rived at the years of maturity, he embraced with faithfulness and aeal the calling of the sacred nd* nistry.
The early trials, the many allietioas by whieh IIhb servant of God was fully instructed by Him in pa* tience and hope, would form too long a retrospcot ftw this slight sketch. At the time be became pastor of the church at Nismes, he was the husband of a wo* man in every respect worthy of biro, bat whose fading existence gave warning bow short was to be the union between them.
* Oh, my God,' prayed the pious pastori when he looked round upon the deserted ehorcb and the worldly congregation, *give to thy servant a voice
FBEHCH ntOTBSTAIfrS.' M
not Idas powerfal than that wtiloh 4Ptm8^ th^ mxOtk^ t«de away fiom Tbee/ The prvfer wtw ■ntwti-ed^, and the ohurohet were once again filled with a fif«'^ teniag and attentife congregation. But M. OMttfafei- well knew that the publie preaching of the gctopel was only imetrf the datiee of the minlrtef ef Chtfet From boose to house, from faoiilylo family, he went" proeiaitting the words of salyatioti. Hit seal 'sai>n met with its reward-^for how rai«ly does it hapi^en that the minister who seeks out sinners Is not songht for in his turn !
Faithful is the promise of the Lord> *< Gt> ye there- fore and teach all nations. .and lo, I am with
you alway, even unto the end of the world/' His house was frequented by those who came to seek his advice, to ask for his teaching and his prayers* ' I wish/ said his sweet wife, in a letter to a friend,^ you cottld see all the good he is permitted .to do in this place. What a blessed calling is bis !•— one of recon- ciliation and level I sometimes say, it is also a painful «ne, when we are anxious to follow it to the utmost of oar power; for there is no limit to the oo* casions of doing good*'
In addition to the good effected by his active mims- try, it was also the will of the Lord to make his ser^ vant an example of patient suffering amongst his flock. The consumptive symptoms with which his beloved wife had been affected again returned^ her weakness increased, and the close of life evidently drew near. * Ah, sir,' replied li* Goulhier to a (Miest who was once urging him to place himself under the shelter of the Roman church, ' if you did but know the happiness of belonging entirely to Jesos Christ ! ' Nor were these only words, for he proved in this most
588 FIBNCH PROTESTANTS.
trying scene of his life, the reaKty of the belief that he belonged to the Lord, ky the readiness with which he sarrendered himself and all that he 'had into his handsy to be disposed of according to His will. Frail, fallible humanity is but too apt to overlook the abso- lute sovereignty of God : when we are ready patiently to yield everything to Christ, of his own only have we given to Him*
M. Goathier now devoted the days to the manifold 4Qties of his ministry, and the nights to watching by the bedside of bis dying wife, — ^a scene where her humility, patience, and grace comforted the deeply* tried heart of her husband. She reproached herself for even suffering a wish for rest to escape her : such a wish seemed to her not accordant with that resig- nation to her Lord which taught her not even to de* sire that one of her sufferings should be spared, sent as they were from her heavenly Father. A short time before her death, she seetoed a little to revive: *Biy love,' she said to her husband, ' lift up my arms*' He did so, and she pat them round his neck. ' Perhaps,' said he with the proneness which the human heart displays to hope to the last, * perhaps the Lord will grant as yet again to love Him, and pray to Him together on earth.' ' I do not think it,' she answered, * but if He shoald, we would assist each other, would we not, my beloved, to pnrify our hearts with His all-^ powerful help from every earthly motive, and in all we do to have a single eye to His glory T This is the one thing needful. Every thing else is but vanity.' ' Who that could have seen,' exclaims her husband, 'her calm peaoefulness when she looked towards heaven, and the foretaste of everlasting happiness which appeared to be given to her spirit in the midst
FRfiNCH PR0TE8TAKTS« 539
of ber saffering, would not baye felt bow great are Cbe privileges of tbe cbild of God ! ' Once more be- fore ber last boor approacbed sbe bad strength to Speak a few words: for tbe last time her lips an- closed, to breatbe oat witb difficulty tbe naiiie of * Jestts Cbrist,' and tbe parting scene was over.
Madame Oontbier left behind one daughter; as gentle, affectionate, and apparently as spiritually* minded as herself* Tbe garden whence tbe rose bad been reft yet cherished the bud, and the heart of the pastor, deprived of bis wife, centered all its human happiness in bis child. A few short years, and that likewise was taken from him. Tbe young Louise died at Montpelier, whither her father bad taken her to consult a very clever physician. He brought back tbe body of bis cbild in its coffin. A few days afterwards he ascended tbe pulpit, and preached on Abraham^s offering up Isaac.
Many years afterwards, when speaking of these two trying days of bis life, M. Ooutbier observed, * I am sure that it was on those two days, on tbe 12th of May and the 17th of June, when my heart was almost broken,— -I am now quite sure it was then that God showed the greatest love towards me/'
Good and evil are terms we use with reference to this world's events, to signify what we like, and what we dislike ; but in truth we are assured that ' all iking$' are alike good: *^0 tafste and see that the Lord is good : blessed is the man that trusteth in Him." Tbe sharp wind which destroys the blight, that would otherwise consume the flower, is better for it than tbe brightest sunshine. It was tbe happi- ness of M. Goutbier to have that love for God, which supports tbe sovl and gives it peace in tbe midst of
540 FRENCH PROTESTANTS.
the deepest afflictioD. * O je Papists/ exclaimed a martyr of old,' ^ ' ye look for miracles, and bebold a yniracle, for in this fire I feel no pain ; it Is to me as a bed of rose3 ! ' Doubtless this is a miracle which has often been confirmed In the experience of Grod's faithful servants, when His presence with them, io the midst of affliction, has caused the flame to barn not.
* lane as I am, I take the prey $ Hell, earth, and sin with eas« o'ercome, I leap for joy, pursue my way. And, as a hoowiiDr hait, fly h<mie } Through all eternity to prove. Thy natore and Thy name is Love ! '
From this period M. Gonthier devoted himself yet more entirely to bis sacred calling. So completely were his hoars filled op, that often the only time he had for the composition of his sermons, was, as he walked from one house to the othen Can it be doubted, that in their private ministrations of the word, the ministers of the gospel preach as effeetaally as in their public exhortations?
Even his nights were not his own; for he con- stantly rose from his bed to attend upon his sick parishioners : and so little relaxation did he permit himself, that during the nine years he resided at Nismes, be never, saw the sea, whkb is only a few leagues distant.
One day an old soldier called at M. Geutbier's bouse :— ^ I do not know what business I have here, sir/ said he, ' but to tell yon the truth « my wife has made me promise to come and see yoa« She is a kind soul, and I do not like to vex her, so here I Rm«*
1 Bainltflai.
FRENCH PROTESTANTS. Ml
The pioos woman, it seems, had heard a seriDon from M. Goathier, on the text ** What ! knowest thou, O wife, whether thoo shalt sate thy hnshand?" and ever sinoe she had not ceased to urge her hnsband, at least, to present himself at the minister's house, whieh at last he did, solely oat of complianee, and to have, as he said, peace at home. Such lukewarm- ness, however, did not deter the zealous and faith fbl minister : he succeeded in making the old man wish for another interview : another and another sue- eeeded ; ' I will come in for the future, sir/ said the aged veteran, 'by the front door:' for, alas! many of those who came to consult M. Gouthier concerning the welfare of their souls, ashamed of being seen, were wont to steal in at the private entrance. After he had paid M. Goathier a few more visits, he said to him, * Why should I add to your labours, sir, when I can be taught with the children ? I shall for the future come with the Catechumens/ At Easter he was to be admitted to the table of the Lord, and being asked when lie wished his private entrance to take place, be replied, ' Private ! and why private ! O sir! it is not fit that at the time I receive such a wonderful favour from my God, I should seem ashamed of Him. I shall go with the children, sir.' And the old soldier came to church in the midst of the youthful Catechumens.
But here we must pause, having neither time nor limits to follow the pastor farther into the domestic scenes of his ministry ; of him it might be said, as of the beloved Neff,«^never was there a more welcome, or more honoured guest at the fireside of his people.
M. Gouthier was summoned from Nismes, by the urgent entreaties of bis aged parents, who desired
542 FRENCH PBOTESTANTS.
hit presence near them duriog their last days : so warmly was the consistory of the church at Nismes attached tp hioi, that they wished him to put a saf- fragan minister in his place for an indefinite period, until this duty should be fulfilled, and he should be able once more to return amongst them. But he would not be called the minister of a church, while he did not fulfil the duties of his sacred office. The consistory, therefore, with deep regret were obliged to accept his. resignation.
In obedience to the wishes of his parents, he re- turned to his native mountains, where, in the ofasca- rity of a Swiss village, and after many years of zealous labour, meek devotion to the Lord, and extreme tern* poral suffering, he breathed his last, incalm faith^ and a humble assurance of the love of Jesn8«*~*^ Thoo wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is Mayed on thee : because he trustetb in thee.''*
* The facts mentioned In tiiie brief sketch, were taken ftom ttle Life of the Rev. F. Gouthier, by his nephews, L. and C. Vnlliemin.
548
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
SARAH.
No. V.
** The dark places of the earth are full of the hahita* tions of cruelty/' saith the record of Him who search- eth oat all that is done therein, and takes secret cognisance of the tyranny which his justice as yet , does not interfere to prevent. If we look at the an- nals of our race, sacred, civil and eeclesiastical ; what do we find there, but the oft-told tale of the oppressed and the oppressor — of the strong tyranniz- ing and of the weak snffering, till the heart sickens with the loathsome repetition. In the sovereignty of reason, and in the calm of the passions, we sit in judgment upon overt acts of mercilessness, and. are ready to put sentence of outlawry from the native feelings pf their race, upon those human beings who, whether singly or in legalized communities, have prepared tortures for the bodies of their fellow-men, or racked by the mechanism of a more subtle sufier- ing, that mysterious mind which mdcked at the power of the flame, the gibbet, or the screw. But while thus occupied in passing sentence upon others, how apt are we to forget the arrest of the apostle, — ''Wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself." Not that all are alike implacable and un«>
544 FBMALB BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTURE.
'OMroilbl ; not that all bave share In the gailt of op- pression; but tbat in every breast which has been eonscions of the workings of pride, of anger, and of resentment, whieh are the fatal seeds of cmeltjr, Aere is a modification of the same spirit which drinks in with unsated thint the groans of human agony, or sits with blinding basilisk gaze npon the eronehing terror-stricken mind, till it becomes pal- sied before the inqnisition of that power which might have striven in vain with one bound to crash it.
Where is the tongue which has never shot forth Hs arrows, *'even bitter words," while the spirit smiled exaltingly to see tbat the aim had been successful, and that the dart lay rankling in the wound ? Wh^re is the heart, which, under a keen sense of injury, never felt complacency in beholding the humiliation of a haughty superior, nor rejoiced in the opportu- nity of adding one iota more to the heap of odium he ittcnrred ?' Alas ! those who like Hazael, in the absence of temptation exclaim with honest fervoar — '' Is thy servant a dog, that»he should do this thing?" — shew only that they have never sounded the depths of tbeir own spirits, and know nothing of those fear- fai ehasms of the dislocated soul, which, when the waves of temptation are lashed to fury, lie ready to ingolph justice, and mercy and compassion.
It is not alone in men of hard and iron mould, that we recognise the features of the tyrant. The youthT fol sensibilities of a Nero, the tears of a Marins, serve to shew us tbat in the gentlest natures the jieeds of cruelty require only the fostering aid of dircum- slanoes to bring to full maturity the dark malignity of their poison-fruit. The student of scripture lieed not therefore be surprised to find^ that the first tale of
FBSUXA BIOGBAyHT OP SCRiPTOitB* 645
tjiannj recorded in its pages, is a story of domestic oppression, and the oppressor a woman.
Intoxicated by tiie flattering elemtioQ> to wJlich she had been raised in the fomily of Abram, and full of presamptnons hopes of fatiire greatness and distiootioa as the mother of the pionis^d seed ; the bondmai4 Ha|^r forgot the meanness of her former position, and treated her benefectress and mistress with all the insolence of an ignoble mind thiown from its balance by a sudden and anlooked-for pros- perity. For a time, the wife of the Patriafreb appears to hate borne with the eontnmely and insabordiMt- tion of her handmaid, noarisbing in her heart the bitter thoogfat, that he whom she had )ov«d so £uth- fuliy was the abettor of her wrongs. But when, at last, the load of real and imaginary grievances be- came too great tot enducance, and Sarai bad dis- covered, upon her passionate appeal to Abram, that he had no desire to nnk>ose the bonds which boand her handmaid to duty ;'-*then it was that she resolved to take ample satisfaction for the humiliations she. had submitted to at the hands of Hag^r. Once secure &om her husband's interfereuoe^ and possessed of absolute power over the nnhap^ bond«slave; ooald maliee have had a fairer opportunity for indalgiog in all the delirium of revenge ? The (^nity of the sacred nar- rative pauses not upon the mean and- pitiful rootine of daily oatrage and oppression. Its brief record is, '< Sarai dealt hardly with her, and she fled from her UuDej" — but cruel indeed must have been the sofier- ings which led Hagar to prefer the wilderness with its terrible array of armed marauders or savage beasts of prey, to the tent of her once kind and gentle mis- tress.
JVNJB, 1840. 2 N
ii$ FSMAi^B mOOBikPHT OF SGRIPTUAB.
'^ Ye know not «bat spirit ye are of/' said Uie Be- deemer to tl|e loviag and compassionate Johnt to the JQfgtaiid pious James, when^ for one inbospitable act of fMurty seal, tbey would haTe doomed the inhabi- tants of a whole irillage to destruction. We shall taJMi a veiy false estimate of that which oor nature conld be capable of» if we measare by the^standanl of its babitoal sensibilities, or its native perceptions of jostice apd mevoy; by its proneoless to shed tears, or to bncn with the ready fires of a kindling compas* sion. Beeanse we can. weep over the story of op- pression, it does not follow that we oarselves should not, under similar circumstances, haye stood in the place of tbe oppressor. Look at human nature in its purest, best estate. See the child freshly endowed by his Creator with warm and kindly feelings, and with rational intelligent, faculties. Tell to the awakened inquisitive mind, anxious to know tbe history of a worid so new to it, some tale of .tyranny, and m^ak how the spelling bosom alternately relents, ia softest pity, or glowA .with passionate ardour to be a le- dresser of the wrongs which it is wounded oTon to hear of ;— but follow this little, auditor witb tbe .soul of sympathy, this redoubtable champiofi.of jlhe op- pressed, .into his own peculiar sphere of. action,, and see whether be will not presently become the tyrant of the nursery, whenev^, among the little community of which he is the head, his. own personal interests are interfered with* Reason with him now. concern- ing tbe beayy blow, dealt to a younger a^d a weaker child ; concerning the selfish appropriation not only of his own but of others' eiijoya»ents^**-efidearour4o impress bjm with the odio[|3i|ess of. tyr^Qnisiing over tbe more helpless, and to set befoi« hm the IovcUt
FEMALE BIOGRAPHY OF SCRIPTtms. 547
ness and beauty of a spirit of self-denying^ regBsrd to the interests of others ; and yoa shall find that the same perception of justice and mercy in the abstrtot^ which displayed the shadow of the divine image onee perfectly mirrored on the sonl, will not avail when the fumes of selfishness bfive clouded -its surfiiee. No, indeed ! we need not go to the stem and iron- hearted, to the mature in years, or the hardened in crime, to behold the features of the tyrant. Let us read them in the dimpled face of infancy — in the soft outline that marks the mould of womanhood. And a^ to the theatre of oppression, let us not look fot that in the wide domains of despotism, or in the halls of the powerful, but where the rule is in the hands of the feeble, and the empire is confined to the narrow limits of home. Here woman is the sovereign, and here she will be known, either as the stern and hated dominator, or the loved and honoured friend. Her rule, insignificant as it appears, is fraught with stupendous consequences for good or for evil, in** volving, as it does, the happiness or wretchedness of many hearts. According as it exhibits the combina^ tiott of firmness, gentleness, and discretion, or capri^ cionsness, selfishness, and imbecility, there will be Ibr the most part,* either peace and harmony in the domestic circle, or tumult, insubordination, atnd dfs* order. Nor is the exercise of authority in this little sphere, albeit it may seem a small and ' despisable thing, a task easy of fulfilment, and devoid of temp- tations to its abuse. The trials which spring from the evil tempers, habits, and principles of the mem- bers of the home community, are not less difficult to bear with and controul because of their pettiness.
On the contrary, it seems as though a peculiar sper
sN a
518 FSiCALB BlOOBAVay OF SCRIPT0B&.
«
eie« of irr&tftUon wiu attendant upon the little broils of domestic life» requiriDg a doable sbare of native nobleness of fesjeling, and a doable share of Christian BKNieration and self-ooramand, in the one who has to adjast s«eh a variety of .oonstantly reooiring misde- meftnoars, by the nice balaooe of her own absolnte will.
When the servas^ is exalted to be the friend and confidant, what can be expected, b«t that she who has broken down the barrier» of partition whioh woald else have shielded her ftom insolent and eootempto- oas Cainiliarity, sheold be hereafter nmde to feel ike pernioioos effects of her .own indiscreet folly. And in such a case, bow anjast, how ongeneroos the sys- tem of recrimination, which a saperior bas in her power to pvrsae, even te the extent of crnelty and peraecation. The exaggerated censure, the highly- coloored statement, the nnjost es^osore &£ faults, while the foolish indulgence which led to their com- mittal is caieftilly concealed ; how fotally may these operate, not only to mar the present peace and oom^ fort of dependants^ bnt also to change the whole car- rent of their destiny, and to blight the hopes of their fotore well-doing in the world ! .'* For three things," saith the wise man, ** the earth is disqaieted,'' and two of these are *' for a servant when he reigneth, and an handmaid that is heir to her mistress.*' Sorely that is not a small evil, by which, in its wide- spread though hidden workii^, the earth is disqai- eted. How needful then, that those to whom the regulation of the little cemmuiuty of home is more especially committed, should give all diligence to discharge with firmness, faithfulness, and gentleness, this important trust! How jealous should they be
FEMALB BIOGRAPHY OF 9CRTPTXrRn. M0
OT^ themselves, lest through the cMistrainiog feroe of oircaffistanees, haf shness and oppression should he ealled in to «iido what feebleness and indtseretieii have prodaeed.
These are the days of insabfMrdination, and it ap- pears as though the earth were abeot to -he mora than ever ** disqaieted'^' by the confoanding and sabvert- ing of that social order whieh has bitherlo been pre- served in the world. Meanwhile, witb the Bible in onr hands, we know that the frame-work of the fabric is of God ; and that though here and there the insane assaults of atheistic men may be successfol in making some breach in the edifice, it shall neverthe- less stand upon its broad foundations, till that great tumult- day of the moral and material elements, whieh will precede the final renovation of all things. But since the role of the parent and the mistress is no longer one to which, by the over-*mastering force of opinion, all are oompeUed to bow, and which it would be deemed next to sacrilege to dispute : — since the rising spirit of rebellion, and the ill'Suppreased breathings of ooBtempt for all authority, are seen and heard on every side^ — ^how shall it be possible to dis- charge faithfully and firmly, yet with gentleness and forbearance, an oiBee which has become so doubly difiicult? It can only be done by oleaviag to the statute-book of God*s law, the obarter of the rights of every grade in the social conmnaity. It can only be done by keeping in faabitaal remembraiiee that all are servants to one Master who is in heaven, and that they who are appointed to rule oter the teas or fifties of their fellow-mortals, must first shew a pat- tern of all loyal and dutiful service to Him who gave them that authority ; surrendering body, sonl, and
660 THE CHAMBBR OF SICKNESS.
spirit to the work ' wberennto they were appointed, and exhibiting^ in their own condaot whatsoever things are lovely, honest, and of good report. It can only be done by their giving to those who are in sab- jection to them that whieh is jast and eqaal, forbear- ing tbreatemng; knowing that ^*God bath made the small and great, and eareth for all alike ; ^ that he will not accept any person against the poor, bat will hear the prayer of the oppressed.
Lydia.
THE CHAMBER OF SICKNESS.
TwiLipHT at noon I scarce can the joyoas son Throagh the elosed cartains of the window cast A feeble light— the hot oppressive air Brings langnor on its breath—the joys of life, All its long train of cbeerfal, happy hoars Pass by the door ; each loved employment Mea Untouched, onthought of— and the days go by Withoat their use on earth, their frait for heaven*
Oh, say not so ! the lonely sentinel Who goards with watchfal eye the dangerous post Holds service fall as well as he whose plame Is in the foremost of the battle seen ! And thoa, throaghoat the ever-length'ning hours Of days unoccupied, which sickness brings.
THE CHAMBER OF SICKNESS. <5&1
Mayst serve thy Lord as well by trosttog'iaitlH . Sabmissive patience, and tbe ready sipile Whieh speaks His will is thine, and knows it goodv > As when thy basy heart, and active thoaghtiat, > Planned for each mmnent its allotted task. . It is the Christianas part to go where'er. His master calls him—- not to choose himself . His dnty, or his place ; then be^ot thine f
The forced endurance of a hated .ill ; . .
Do thou with quiet mind thy burden take, Not as a chain the captive cannot burst. But as a cross the willing Christian bears. So shall thou find, it was an angel's foot That troubled life's clear stream, and gave it power For thy soul's health, which else it had not known*
M. A. S. B. Hampsteady March 29.
PoPERT is merely the religion of the natural heart. Nine-tenths of us are Papists without knowing it*-^ Rev, F, Ooode,
THE SPIBIT AND INFLUBKCB OP POPERT.
Aftbr a loB|^ walk oa a liaauUftJ awner's ere, I called at the cottage of a paor iabavnr, wbo was a Tery regute atteBdaat at the •hwch where, a few yean ago, I had heea the olieiatiBg aiaiatar. The thatched dwellteg ef this Indastrieos naa stood hy the side of a retifed road, whieh slopes gently downwaid towaids the hank of aheavtifiil wiadtag rivalet, fon»- ing the boandsiy of the parish , and ooniniaading one off those rich nml scenes which can never fail to excite, in the mind of the belieTer, a sense of adaiiriag gra- titodc towards the all-magnificent Creator, who, throngfa the interposition of the Redeemer, has made the earthy so jostly accarsed for man's logratitBde and rebellion^ teem with all that is asefal and loTcly. The cottager almost imsKdiately on my ^trance told me that my visit was very providential, inas* mach as in the adjoining hvt, which was under the same roof with his own, there was a youth rapidly sinking wider a consusptioa, and mostannass to know what he most do to he saved. I repaired ui- stantly to the sick man's dwelling, and faind him alone. His ghastly conntenance, his sunken eyes, and heavy breathing, convinced me that my infor- maBfs statebient was correct. The suffering hoy was evid^itly on the brink of eternity. I qaestioned him as to his sentiments respecting his health. He re- plied that the hand of death was npOD him. On
THE SPIRIT AND INFLUENCE OF POPERY. 553
urging the awfal importance of being prepared for the unseen world upon which he was so soon to en- ter, he manilested a most affecting eagerness to be informed how he might meet his God so as to be accepted and saved. His whole heart seemed ab- sorber) in attention to the messages of salvation from God's word, and fervently did be respond to the prayer for his pardon and justification through the merits and righteousness of Jesus Christ. On leav- ing the GoUage no persuasions of mine couJd prevent him Isom dragging hk exhaasted frame to accompany me to the door« With tears he expressed his grati- tude lor the seasmiable intecview, and entreated that I would take the eajrliest opportunity of lepeating my visit* My languid feelings of thankfulness to Him who iiad so graciously adorned the laoe of na- ture in that beautiful spot, were greatly invigorated when I reflected that He had drawn me thither for a far nobler purpose than to gratify my sight by the endeared scenery around me and to renovate my sickly cQnstitution through the exercise of walking ; and I retorned homeward, meditating on the brevity of human life and the awfal realities of etenuty, con- nected wi4h the astonishing mercy of the Saviour set forth in the passages of scripture which I commended to the serious prayerful study of the dying boy, that he might be better prepared to receive me as a mes- senger of peace, if we should be spared to meet again oD earth. It was not long before I was a second time in the lowly abode of the dying youth. I found him seated exactly in the same situation as before, his UEBU rested on a small table on which was a soli- tary book, which I had no doubt was the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ. With feelings of inteuse in-
554 THE SPIRIT AND INPLITENCB OF POPEftT.
terest and affectionate sympathy I went forwards towards the object of my anxiety. The minister of the gospel is not a stranger to that cold reception from the dying sons and daughters of Adam which Satan is permitted too often to use as a means of chilling his hope, and almost closing his lips in silence ; bat here a very different greeting was rea- sonably expected. How was my heart saddened when the hand of the poor boy was reluctantly held oat to toveh mine, and when I perceited his eye, which on my previous visit beamed with inqoiriDg animation, and was brightened with tears of gratitude, now immoveably fixed upon the groundr On enter- ing the cottage I had taken no particular notice' of the other inmates, but I was instinctively prompted to glance round the room to see if I could discover any ground for the distressing change in the suffering youth's conduct towards me in their demeanonr. Opposite to the boy on the other side of the b^arth sat a stern-looking stout man, apparently in the middle rank of society. He eyed me vnth a look of menacing contempt, but he uttered not a syllable. On a chair against the wall facing the fire, was a female about 18 years old, who, with rigid, motion- less attitude and gloomy, yet self-satisfied look, con- vinced me that I was only regarded by her as an in- truder. Satisfied by this hasty survey that it would be wisdom to confine my conversation to the dying youth, I asked him whether he had attentively read the portions of scripture which I had pointed out to him. After a timid glance across ^e hearth, he* hesi- tatingly answered, < No ! ' I felt it ny paidfttldiity to reprove his negligence, and expressed my snrpriae and sorrow that conscious as be had acknowledged
THE SPIRIT AND INFLUENCES OF FOPBRY. 655
bimself to be of his approaching death, he had trifled with, it might be, the very hut opportanity of gaining from God's own word the knowledge of salvation, which two days before he seemed so eager to possess. He said nothing. The stillness of death was in the room; it was a stillness which fell like an oppressive w^ght apop my spirits. For some time I was dis- tressingly and unaccountably dumb. At last I rose from my seat, and said, * Let us pray.' I aUme knelt. The rest remained motionless. I was just uttering the first syllable of supplication when the person on my left suddenly stopped me, by saying, in a loud commanding tone, ' He does not wish for your pray- ers/ ' May I ask the grounds upon which you make such an extraordinary assertion ? ' * Because a minis- ter visits him, whose views on religion are more conge- nial with his own.' ' Will you kindly tell me,' I asked, 'the nature of his professed religion?' 'He is a Catholic/ 'But I know,' was my reply, 'that he ^es wish me both to converse and to pray with him, for I have come to-day at his own urgent request*' 'Ask R— — himself, and he will tell you that he wishes yon to leave him, and to discontinue your visits altogether;' Looking stedfastly at unhappy Bf" • ■» I said, ' Is it true that you do not wish me to pr^y with you— that you do not wish me to come and see you?' 'It is true,' was the distressing reply. ' Shall I not come again, then V ' No ! '
I had never come in such close contact with an emissary of Popery before. I was completely pnc- 2led for a few moments and at a loss how to proceed. After a brief consideration, I turned to the man who had been the cause of such a wretched alteration in the sentiments of his almost expiring fellow>«flnortal,
556 THE SPIRIT AKD nm.UEVCE OF POPBRY.
tnd I endeaToored to convince bim of the awM dan- ger of his position, thns learlesnly and wickedly, tboagh it might be in ignorance, labooiing to <^ose op in impenetrable darkness and nnpardoned gnilt, the heart of a dying sinner, which the Lord had opened to receiTe his message of salvation, and to whom he had in a most providential manner directed my rteps.
My remarks were listened to, or rather, I should say, were made amid the same gloomy silence which chilled my heart when I first entered the room. I left the cottage with feelings as different to those with which I bad approached it as light is to dark- ness. What an awful enemy to man is Popery! Sach was my reflection, as in sadness of heart I turned piy back upon the hnmble thatched dwelling, in one of the most sweetly retired scenes of nature, and in a parish where I have reason to believe the influence of an emissary of Rome had never been known for two centuries* Men speak of Popery po- litically as foolish and ridicnlous, hot have they erer seen its withering power over the affections, the in- tensely anxious hopes and fears of a dying man? ft has its victims in those who have had no ixed views of religion in life, and who grasp at a straw to save them from sinking in death ! Two days after this had transpired, I lay sleepless in my bed, distressed and agitated by the thought of the poor dying boy's melaDcholy situation. I arose long before my accus- tomed time, and walked with as much expedition as possible to the place of his abode. The door of the cottage was opened by his aged grandmother, who gaye me a most cordial and touching welcome.
Her poor grandson, she said, had declared repeat- edly that he had never had a moment's peace of mind
THB SPIRIT AND INFX^UENCB OF POPERY. 6^7
since he had told me that he did not wish me to. visit bim again. He was then dying, she added, bat bis last earthly wish at least would be gratified, if be could see me before his spirit's departure. He was an orphan, left under the sole guardianship of the Koman Catholic who had been the chief actor in the scene described above. That faithful and zealous fanatic had threatened his unhappy ward, (who had been brought up under the direful influence of Ro- mish superstition) with the withdrawal of eyery thing that could tend to his earthly comfort, and with the awful curse of hell and damnation if he dared again to admit a Protestant minister to pray with him, or cooyerse with him on the subject of religion. But to use the simple language of the old womtin, * God is above the devil, and you shall see him,' (meaning the boy.) The book which I had seen before him on my former visit was a manual of Roman Catholic devo- tion, or, to speak more correctly, superstition, for I saw in it the names of numberless intercessors sub- stituted for that only name given among men whereby we can be saved. The Bible was removed beyond his reach. The boy was visited daily by a priest from a neighbouring parish, who seconded the views of
the guardian by endeavouring to keep R in terror
of looking for salvation out of the pale of his own church. The guardian lived nearly at the distance of twenty miles, and had apprenticed the youth to a Roman Catholic tradesman near him; but when sick- ness visited the youth, he was removed to his grand- mother's quiet abode, where I saw him. When shown into the room where the boy was dying, I found him speechless. But when I asked him if he were glad to see me, and if he wished me to pray
558 THE SPIRIT AND IM7LUENCE OF FOPERT.
with him, he immediately moved his head in token of assent. His large intelligent eyes were fixed most intensely npon me, as if he woald search into my yery heart, at every motion of my head those eyes followed me. When I was engaged in prayer, his moving lips and suspended breath gave proof that he joined in the solemn act. In half an hour after my departure, he breathed his last. Again I repeat* What an awful enemy to the peace of man is Popery ! How does it dare to oast the fetters of darkness round the conscience !r-*Connect its blind bigotry, the des- perate grasp with which it cherishes its victims, with its treachery, its * no faith with heretics,' and what is there, I ask, so wonderful, so dangerous, so destruc- tive upon earth as Popery ?
N. S. Pig P. P. 7th concede in perpetuo 100 Giorni d'indulgenza da lucrar si una volta il giorno da tutti quelli che divotamente bacceranno ii piede di questa s'immagine recitando un Ave Maria per il brisogni di chiesa.— 7 Guig, 1839. — Copied vei-batim by a friend from a tablet in a Popish Church in Itabf*
559
TO MY SISTER.
Ricordar si del tempo feUce Nella miseria.— Dan/e. tmf^mo. VI.
RsMESfBEBy oh ! remember^
Those by-gone days so blest. When hopes were bright, and hearts were light.
Quick throbbing in each breast; When fairy tales of wonderment
Coald win our listening ear, And the oft-told strain of the orphans twain
Call forth the ready tear.
Remember, oh ! remember.
When first we learned to part. When from home yoa went, and to school were sent
With a heavy beating heart ; Oh ! when the wheels were heard no more —
The carriage lost to view, It was my first, and I thought the worst
Of griefs that heart e'er knew.
Yet let US, too, remember
When Christmas-tide came round From the carriage door, to your brother once more,
How you sprang with eager bound ; Fall seldom could they win me
To boisterous sports away, By my sister's side, I never sighed
For my comrade's ruder play.
560 TO MT SISTER.
And OD the looked-for moraing
Of oar mother's natal day. Oh ! was it not bliss to race for the kiss
While yet in her coach she lay ; And to see the expected presents,
In their folded packets sealed, A toy or book, while her tender look.
Her own heart's joy rerealed.
'Tis good thas to remember
Those blessed, blessed hoars — A charm we throw o'er each present woe
As we cull from the past its flowers. We'll wesYC them in a garland
Ronnd the gtieh that press as now ; And, thanking heaven, for mensies yet given.
To trials calmly bow.
L. H, J. T.
iUbiehi of 2ooia(^
THE SAVl6UR'S RIGHT TO DIVINE WOIt- SHIP VINDICATED, tn Letters to the ftev. J. Armstrong^ D,D, By William Vrwicky D.D. Ro- berUoiiy Dablin.
Dr. Aniuitrong is a Socidian, or, as some persons concede the title, an Unitarian preacher in Dublin : Dr. tJrwick b the principal Independent minister of that city, a man deeply learned in the scriptnres, an eloquent teacher, and powerful controversialist. In this volume he grapples with Antichrist in one of his most deadly shapes, and overthrows him in the strength of the Lord. Such works, from such a quar- ter, are highly valuable, and we cordially recommend this, not only to those who are brought within the pes*- tilential atmosphere of Socinian breathings, but to every Christian who desires to build up himself on his most holy faith— ^ven the faith of Christ crucified, God over all, blessed for evermore.
JVA'S, 1840. S O
562 Ieueview of books:
ESSAYS ON THE CHURCH: MDCCCXL. By a Layman. Seeley and Baniside.
This Layman does greatly trouble the church, if that be the church which is so recognized by the Ox- ford Tract gentlemen, as represented by their mouth- piece, poor Froude. We know not bow many edi- tions have appeared of the Essays: we believe a large impression is exhausted annually, and the present is distinguished by a dedication to the Bishop of Ox- ford, which sets forth, with most proYoking mildness and unpardonable good sense, the falsehood of cer- tain charges brought against the ' Layman,' before the bar of his Lordship, by the Rev. Dr. Pnsey, in a pamphlet addressed to that Prelate. Of the work itself it is needless to speak : distinguished by its unpretending character, a gem that needs no gaudy setting to enhance its intrinsic worth, it is rightly appreciated by the Christian public, and forms, we do verily believe, one of the most impassable of human barriers against the progress of this domestic foe — the Popery of Oxford— that now frets it on its course. The volume is, in fact, rather re-written than re- published, and made to present a firmer front than ever against that quarter from which the attack upon our Protestantism comes in fullest power. From our inmost heart we bid God speed to the work, and may he abundantly prosper the way of his servant, who thus accumulates talent upon talent ip his Mas* ter's cause.
MEMOIR OF BEV. H. MOTES— HIKDOO EDUCATION. 56S(
MEMOIR OF THE REV. HENRY MOWES,
late Poiior of Altenkausen and Ivenrode, Prussia, Autlior of Der P fairer von Audouse, Principally translated from the German. With an Introduction, hy the Rev, J. DavieSy B,D* Rector of Gateshead^ Durham, AutJior of ' An Estimate of the Human Mind* ^c. Hatchards.
A VERY interesting little memoir of a devoted Pastor, whose name, as a warrior, a divine, and a poet, is endeared to many. It is sweetly written, and exhi- bits a touching view of the engaging character of one whom his Master saw good to exercise with no ordi- nary share of personal trial.
HINDOO FEMALE EDUCATION. By Priscilla Chapman. Seeley and Barnside.
Every sacceeding year adds a deeper emphasis to SQch appeals as the one before us. God has most marvellously blessed the work of our Missionaries, by leading a multitude in one place to throw aside their idols, and openly to profess Christ: and no doubt can be entertained of the share which the power of Christian education among the children had in this most blessed work. The volume now under review contains a remarkably clear, simple and interesting statement of the actual condition of Hindoo females, the great demand for education, the means already afforded, and the rich encourage- ments to abound more and more. Our Eastern pos- sessions are even now becoming the theatre of events
SOS
564 REVIEW OF books:
likely to affect not merely this coantry, bat all Ea> rope, and yet more to accelerate the mighty march of Israel retumiiig to their own land. The 'day' allowed for us to work ia shecteniD; fhst; the sha- dows of a 'ttight' of tribolatkui and eornmoiion whereia we may work ao longer, hegin to fall ; and when we consider what a morniDg of rest and glory is thereafter to break upon the scoiie» sarely weenght to priie and to improTc every moment given as to labour for oar Lord's kiogdom* Wo veiy waimly fUMsommend this book» with its modest recital and its pietty eii^ravinga, iUnstiative of the soeaes that it doscvibos*
CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN SCRIPTURE UlSTOBY practical^ considered. A Series tfUt* tures; by the Rev^ John M» Hiffemanf AM^ Curaie ofFethardf in the Dioeeee of CasheL Robertson.
A few sabj^cts connected with some pfominent characters io holy writ brooght forward i& a ploasiag, animated style* and truly Christiaak spirit. Wo have ]^ve, Adam, the serpent, Joshoay Elijah, and several from the New Testament. We find the beok hoih ple^ant and profitable, bat in one point nrast wish the excellent author had been more dear, as he did nioi of cooitie intend to invest Satan with the divine attribute of foreknowledge, withooA which ho ooidd not have had the distinct view that Me. H. soppases liim to have enjoyed of the dreadful eoBseq«eaces of the fall. With the exception of this ovejBSi|^tt wo entirely like the little book.
ANCIENT CHRISTIANITY. 565
»
ANCIENT CHRISTIANITT, and tk9 Doetrkut nf ike Orfard Tracts for ikt Times. By the Author tf 'Spiritmil Detpoium/ Vol. L Secoitd EdiHom. Jackson and Walford.
EveiTliody Ims bonid of this book as being a teiri*- ble tborii ia the side of Puseyism ; bttt everybody does not know the nstare of the wound it inflicto in (hat qaarter. It is, indeed, of an eoKtraordinai-y and a startling character. The Tractarians, it is weft known, seek to shift the foandation of the ehnreli, by ipently sliding it from the Rock, Christ alone, to rest, partly at least, on the mighty moantain of ponderous folios called ^The Fathers.' They wonld establish aR points, and silence all cavils, by an appenl to * Ancient Christianity,' averring that the more fmme* diate snceessors of the apostles mast necessarily be better infotned on points of apostolic doctri<ie, dis- cipline, &e., than we at this very distant period can be withoot the aid of their instraction. This was the grand field of controversy too, at the time of the blessed Reformation : the Papists averring that they had these ' Fathers ' all on their side : the Reformers adducing numerous proofs to the contrary ; and we imagined the present volume to be constructed on the same principle.
On the contrary, the author, after claiming for these early writers a degree of importance that many good Christians hesitate to concede to them, lays open firom their pages an awful scene of corroption — a humiliating proof of how very, very soon after the departure of our Lord and his apostles, the church at large, like that of Galatia in Paul's days, began to
566 BEVIEW OF BOOKS.
tarnish with their own devices the bright and pore treasure committed to them« The present large voiome is bat the first of the work, comprizing four of tbe numbers published separately; but it has already reached a second edition. It is written with con- summate ability ; deep, close, cool ; cutting with a ealm, steady hand through the very bones and mar- row of the evil that he copes with. Well may the Traotarians wince under the operation. The weapon is of their own selecting, the process of tbeii owb recommending.
Alas, for human nature ! it is a deadly corroptM: of holy thing^. No marvel that the Lord should have bestowed upon his church that powerful engine the Press, at the period when he saw good to deliver her from the reign of spiritual darkness! The dispersion of the Holy Scriptures was indispensable to the en- lightenment of men's minds, unless a new revelatioB had been given from heaven; and never did the Bible appear so precious to us as when turning over the pages of thia profound and truly unique work on * Ancient Christianity.'
567
THE PROTESTANT.
*Is the tide really turning?' exclaimed my oncle abraptly ; * are these Destructives about to pause in their march, and enable the country to retrace her steps? Sometimes I think it, and a gleam of hope for Old England breaks upon the gloom. That mighty engine, ''the pressure from without,*' has been brought to bear upon the nominal representa- tives of our Conservative, our Protestant constituen- cies. They are awakening to the fact that the sec- tion of our population who, on principle, have re- mained quiet while the other portion was foaming out rage and menace, is far from being unconcerned in the contest. I know not of any movement that for years has gladdened me so much as the progress of these Operative Associations. How much of the fine old English spirit resides unimpaired among this highly important class of our countrymen has been evinced in a striking degree on the occasional meet- ings of the Protestant Operatives. Their little Penny Magazine is a precious thing in my sight ; and I half envied our friend Dalton the privilege of addressing that fine intelligent body of men in Finsbury.'
* You don't mean to say you could have done it better, uncle ! '
* Better ! ' repeated the old gentleman with a smile, ai he drew forth the pamphlet containing Mr. Dal-
56ft THB BROTBSTAirr.
toa'«Jectare»'iio, frnly; I bare gained not a little iafomiatioB myself, aiMl a godd deal of encoaiage* nient from this. I pat a docen copies at a time into my pocket, and in my strolls oontriYe to di»» tribote severaly in a way not to give offence, among the respectable workmen wbom I fall in with ; enter* ing mannfaotories pr workshops whero I can properly do so. Thero are few neighbourhoods where any gentleman, or any lady either, might not cpntriye to establish one of these operatiye associations with the prospect of mach good/
^ I am sare of it. What a crisis is visibly hasten- ing on I '
*' Ay ; there are those of whom we are compelled to say thaf theyliye in pleasure and are wanton," — that '* the harp and the viol, the tabret and pipe, and wine are in their feasts ; bat they regard not the work of the fiOrd, neither consider the operation of bis hands." Like Belshazzftr of old, they wrap them- selves in the voloptaoas gratifications of earthly en- joyment, regardless of the vigilant fpe who is seofetly turning their goar^ian Euphrates fr9m its ehannel, and stealing upon them with purposes of destruo- tiqn.*
' Ah, the Eastern Euphrates, unele, the mystic river of which that was the vivid type, how fast it is dry- ing up!'
Vj uncle's eye kindled, a^nd the highest animation took possession of his aspect as ^e replied, ' I have lived tq see the first blow struck in thi^t tremendous conflict which shall issue in two contemporane9ns triumphs such as the world never yet saw— such af the prophets of old shadowed forth in a pontinupns strain of divine harmony through thoqsands of
TH9 PR0TE8TAKT. 689
until its last note fell on the eat of tbe belored apos» tie amid the thundering hallelujahs of beaTen itself 1 Rejoice with me, with the heavens, with the holy apostles and prophets, for already may w^ take up the song and say, ^' Babylon the great is falleiiy is fallen," the hammer of the whole earth is broken ; and the world will now know peace 1 '
' Bear uncle, yon do not surely think the power of this unlTersal foe is at an end ? '
^ No, but the end is visibly oome, so that nothing now remains but the final struggle ; short, fierce, san- guinary, terrible, but still final, and Babylov the great is gone for ever/
' What do you call the first blow, which you have lived to see struck ? '
* The outrage at Damascus, where Popery, by the craft of her Capuchin Monks and blood-thirsty lay- men, moved, guided, forced on the hand of her less guilty compeer, Islamism, to smite the Jew. Won- derful in such an age of the world,— wonderful at any time, in any place, under any circumstances, \$ such an outbrei^k of the old diabQiical persecution ; but at thii time, in that place, and under mek cir- cumstances, oh how thrilling to the soul of the Chris- tian is the event ! Mark me, the time is at the cele- bration of the Passover; the beginning of months, the very entrance of the year which has by universal consent been marked by the Jewish people for some extraordinary event connected with their restora^tipn. The place is Syria— Damascus, where Paul, the har- dened Jew was struck down by the power of God to the earth, and thence commissioned to gather in a Gentile church: the circumstance is an accusation toqchiog the life and soul of their very existence as
570 THB PROTESTANT.
Israelites— a charge of mingling blood — hnmati blood I — with the onieavened bread of the passkiver ; and thereby compelling them to put forth a docament calcalated beyond anything we could conceive to arrest and &x the world's eye upon them, to lead to new investigation of that Mosaic law wherewith is interwoven in every part predictions of their sore re- torn to the land, to the God of their fathers. Come, take this docament and transcribe it ; there is a bless- edness in placing it on your pages, for it is the touch- ing appeal of the persecated, groaning, dying chil- dren of Abraham/ I took it ; and here it is —
* The petition of the Jews of Damascus to their
Sovereign, the Pasha of Egypt. ' The nation of Israel hath not a Prince, hath not a state ; her glories are buried by antiquity — her nationality is extinct.
* Religion, your highness, governeth the conscience, but doth not divide nations. The Israelites of Da- mascus are your children, for God hath entrusted them to your government. They are slandered by malice, and oppressed by cruelty, and to whom could they turn for justice if not to their lawful master ?
^The name of Mehemet All is high sounding through the universe, for in one hand he beareth gl^ry, and in the other justice.
* The Hebrews of Damascus are accused of an atrocious crime--a crime which is contrary to reason, contrary to their religious principles, contrary to truth, and still more so to history.
' The Hebrews were the first who were commanded by Grod to abstain from blood ; the first who banished human blood from the altars of God. The people of
THE PROTESTANT. 571
JUrael have been anfortunate, it is tnie, bat their character in adversity hath been stnpendoas, and men like year highness, whom God hath endowed with genias, pity them, bat despise them not.
'Of what are they accased ? Of having killed a man, and taken his blood to make unleavened bread. This institation hath endured 4,000 years and more ; for 4,000 years have the religions institutions of the Jews offered a field for research to the learned of all the world, and could such infamy remain undeteeted ? Shame to him who coald think it !
■
'The Hebrews, your highness, avoid blood, and carry even to a prejudice this precept of their reli- gion. They pour away that of animals, and do all they can to remove sach a fluid from flesh before they taste it. Now, does it accord with reason that they would sacrifice a man, and taste his blood t
*• This is false on the very face of it, but the old enmity of a person too powerful in Syria against every individual of our faith, gives credit to such a falsehood. Hence, your highness, the most respect- able people of that country are tortured ; blows with- out number are inflicted on their persons; newly- inveirted and most severe tortures afflict the unhappy race^ and these are the means to induce them ix^ con- fiess* Surely such great suffering might extort a false confession from some of them, for, though there are many men who can face immediate death, there are but few who can endure torture, and in DamaS"> ous the tcnrtures are greater than they have ever been in the world. Already have Israelites been known to confess themselves guilty, and afterwards their innocence hath been proved. Above 100 children are perishing in prison for want of food, and this is
572 THE PROTESTANT.
the way in which jiistioe is administered to your pie in Damasciu !
< We have freqqeiiUy heard, your highness, tbat many letters haye been received, not from Hebrews of Damascus, bat from bonest foilo^ers of Clirist, whose conscience is afflicted by such cruelty. Those letters declare the Hebrews innocent, and tike ipioie- ters of yoor highness unjust.
'The consols of Austria and Denmark, haye re- ceived such notices, fiat we will not mention all the sympathizing narratives possessed by those of our* faith.
'Year highness, we ask no pity for those of ovr persaasion — we ask for jastice» bat let that be done by yoar highness, oar jast and severe father. Te yon alone hath God entrusted his power over those unfortunate people, and yoa alone have the right to goYcrn them. Let them be broaght before your highness, heard, and punished if they be gailty ; or, if they be innocent, let their innocence be proelatnied aloud.
* The is question of an ancient religion, that diey wish to defile, and it seems that God hath destined for you an additional glory— -that of freeing an o^ pressed nation/'
' How noble ! ' I exclaimed, when finishing the transcription of this affecting appeaL ^How mneh of the conscious dignity of God's own aneient aad chosen people is expressed in every paragraph ! And this petition is addressed to a Pagan govemoik— these representations of what they only ventare to call * an ancient religion/ to a follower of the false prophet!' ^
* Ay,* replied my uncle, who, .after looking over my
THE PROTESTANT. 573
shoulder as I wrote was now busily emplojed in wiping from bis glasses what seemed an unusual inoistnre, — ^ Ay, this is the sad, sad proof, now laid before the whole world, that not only the nation of Israel, to use their own concise but comprehensive expression, *hath not a Prince, hath not a state/ bat, in the ftir weightier words of their own inspired Moses — ** Among these nations thou shaft find no ease, neither shall the sole of thy feet have rest : but the Lord shall give thee a trembling heart, and fail- ing eyes, and sorrow of mind: and thy life shall hang ioddubt before thee; and thou shaft fear day and night, and sbalt hare none assurance of thy life : in the mormiig then shaft say, Would God it were even ! and at even Ihou shalt say, Would God it were morning I for the fear ef thine heart wherewith thou shalt fear, and for the sight of thine eyes which thou shah see/* Many a time have these awful de- clarations been veriOed to the letter, in Israel's ex- perience ; but that was in generations gone by : and it is truly marvellous that Popery should have dared, in this day of light and liberty, when such deeds must necessarily, by means of the press, be made known to all Christendom, that she should, I say^ have DARBD thus to stand forward, the savage perse- cutor and diabolical torturer of the Jew on a pre- tence so monstrous that not even her own wretched ignorance of the Bible can afford her a shadow of excuse for believing it/
* Who is the individual alluded to as having too much power in Syria ?'
* The French consul, at whose special request, and under whose superintendence these horrible barba- rities were exercised. A forocious man, worthy of
674 THE PROTESTANT.
St. Bartholomew ; who has for his coadjutor another French layman, an ex-agent of the goyemment ; aDd fot the chronicler of his worthy deeds, a Capacbin monk. The persons who render themselves conspi- Gooas in stimalating and aiding the murders are Latin priests, and other — must I say Christians ? ^
* Yet, yon see, they speak of the jostice rendered, and the sympathy shewn by some ^ honest followers of Christ."
* Yes ; that is one of the points in the document that strack me. The sufferers evidently do not charge upon the religion itself the abominations per-' petuated by its false professors. Addressing a Pagan, they could have no motive for this implied testimony to the right feeling of Christians, but ra- ther the reverse. There is an extraordinary passage in the 'narrative of the highly respectable Hebrew who has given a record of these atrocities. Speaking of the fierce cruelty of one of the French papists, h^ says, ' he seemed inclined to revenge upon the Jews the death of his Divine Master, who, doubtless^ forgave them,* This coming from one who knows not, or believes not, the New Testament history, is most singular.'
* Altogether, uncle, it is impossible to regard these events otherwise than as marking an era in the his- tory of Israel.'
' And will you not pray, earnestly, constantly pray, to the Lord Ood of Abraham, that he may remember the covenant, and pity his people ? Be assured this is expressly meant as a trumpet-call to us to be in- stant, fervent, importunate in prayer: to give the Lord no rest till he fulfil his gracious promise and establish it, and make Jerusalem a praise in the.
THE PBOTESTAKT. 575
nFhole earth. Never did my soul so go forth in ear- nest longings and aspirations on behalf of God's dear Israel as now ! Reflect again upon this matter ; re- member bow often we have assented to the trnth that Israel's exaltation and Babylon's destmction must synchronize, and that the two grand impostures of the West and £ast, Popery and Mahomedanism, as they rose together, so together will they fall. See them now united, and in the guise of two twin fiends standing over the helpless, innocent Jew, who ex- pires under their torture; and that too in a cause Dot personal, or even national, but strictly the cause of that law which they received in the days of their glorious Theocracy from God himself. It is the reli- gion they wish, as the petition states, 'to defile:' they would represent the Mosaic law as a law of cannibalism — a goodly outrage against the Most High, wherewith to crown twelve hundred years of varying, yet consistent blasphemy, proceeding out of the month of the Beast, and out of the mouth of the false prophet I '
* France stauds forward with unenviable pre^emi^ nence,' I remarked.
' liCt France look to herself,' responded my uncle, in his sternest tone. ' She is about to commit an act of positive infatuation. Trust me, the dead ashes of one man, that France is equipping an ej^pi- dition to convey from the rock of St. Helena to her shores, have more power, and of a more fearful character, than an embattled army of living warriors, to rend her with intestine ponvulsions and deluge the land with blood.'
* I do marvel how the Bourbons can venture on
676 fHE PROTESTANt,
such a terribly exciting experiment jast now^ among^ a people so excitable as the Frencb/
' The Boarbons ciannot prevent it : stronger bands than theirs rule the land, and a power far mightier than both is ordering all after the counsel of his own will/
* And what of our Cnglattd, uncle ?'
' I am no prophet, niece ; but a very few nionths will solve many problems that now puzzle us* Let us see how we shall prosper in this iniquitous Opium War; let us see the issue of impending measures I'egarding the three divisions of our home em- pire, and let us mark what opposition is offered to the desolating progress of Popery and infidelity in thdr various grades and shades, now advancing through the land. To say truth,, and a strange con- fession it is fbr me, I have almost lost my nationality, in the contemplation of those mighty scenes for the enactment of which we see the great stages of East and West preparing. My gaze seems involuntarily fixed upon the Jew, the receiving of whom again shall be as life from t)ie dead to the whole world. Israel is the key-note, by which every chord must be tnned--the index hand, of which the pointing will declare to us how the hidden wheels are working. Let me but see on Israel's part a movement Zioh- ward, and I am content. All the rest will follow in course, and I may lift up my head and look up, for I shall then know that our redemption from this state of trouble and bondage draweth nigh— that the king- doms of this world are about to become the kingdom: of our God and of his Christ, and he shall reign fo ever ! '
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