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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- 

Februabt,  1840.  N 


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 

N  S 


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, 


Mat,  1840.  2  G 


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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