as it might please the Lord to send her. His own, poor lad, were to be but few!" and again she wept long and bitterly. "I weary you; but I've not much more to add. He left the hall for his home towards the dark hours, and the night was bitterly cold. Whether for once he had exceeded-or whether the sharpness of the season had brought on any fit-or whether from the darkness of the night he had lost his way, and was unable to regain it, we could never learn. He was found on the common in the morning stiff and lifeless. Poor lad, he was starved to death! And now," she continued, in an agony of distress with which it was impossible not to sympathise, "pray for me! You are a man of prayer and praise; it is your duty, your calling, your occupation. Pray for me," and she wrung her hands convulsively, "that mine may be a godly sorrow that worketh repentance;' pray for me, that I may not sorrow as those that have no hope.' I am calmer now," she resumed, after a pause; "but you may judge what I have suffered. Had I not been able to read, I must have gone mad!"

.......

"But the consolation of prayer, under all and any circumstances, remained to you."

"No; I tried to pray, but in vain. My prayers, strive as I would, became murmurs. It was long before I could pray-long, very long." "Still, the service of the sanctuary would have comforted; and some church there must have been within your reach ?"

"None," replied she, mournfully; " and as for these people-Kilhamites they call themselves-the noise they make, the shouting, the crying, the roaring, would have been agony to me. They think to 'be heard for their much speaking' while I feel that I must commune with mine own heart, and in my chamber, and be still.' The truth I must and will speak. The power to read kept me from madness. My Bible alone saved me. Nothing that man can say to me could soothe me. But God can, and did, when I read, as many as I love I rebuke and chasten; be zealous therefore, and repent' " (Rev. iii. 19).

"May his consolations abound towards you more and more, to your last hour!"

"Amen, amen!" said she, fervently. "But you mentioned somewhat of having a service here. Ah, let me hear the good old Church prayers once more. We are a careless, drunken, heathen hamlet. But there are no hearts so stony God's word cannot soften, and no understandings so dark which his grace cannot enlighten. Peace be with you, sir; and for me, I go to read and pray."

I began to retrace my steps homeward. All was energy and industry around me. The ploughman was whistling gaily to his team. The sower was carefully casting seed into the furrow. The shepherd was thoughtfully tending his fleecy charge. All were employed. Every object, animate and inanimate, seemed to say, "Occupy till I come!' Labour diligently in the vineyard of the mighty Master. Redeem the time -bear the cross-run the race-brave the fight-win the prize."

As I pursued my long homeward walk across the

⚫ Frozen.

common, the scene changed sensibly yet slowly. The shades of evening closed around. The bustle and the hum of labour altogether ceased. Gloom and darkness fell around me, and shrouded each surrounding object. There was something dispiriting in the change, and the heart involuntarily owned the depression of the hour. The "night cometh, when no man can work." But nothing appeared to me so sad as the spiritual darkness of that benighted hamlet, relieved only by the hope and faith of her to whom the power to read her Bible had been so great a blessing-whom it had cheered in the time of sorrow, strengthened under the pressure of infirmity, consoled under the agonies of bereavement, and guided in that gloomy hour when her "feet stumbled on the dark mountains." A- Vicarage, June 4, 1838.

The Cabinet.

E. N.

COMMEMORATION OF SAINTS' DAYS.-For an example, I take up on St. Peter's day the character of this apostle for my especial meditation, which, most probably, but for this notice of it by the Church, I never should have done. I turn it in every possible light, refer to the minutest incident and analyse it, till I frame to myself an adequate conception of his character. I then examine myself by it, and review his ardent and courageous spirit till I imbibe some portion of it myself, and discuss his temporary fall till I arrive at a wholesome fear of my own weakness; and on coming to his restoration, so completely do I feel identified with him, that I rejoice and glorify his blessed Master and my own, as if I had been restored together with him. And last of all, I look intently upon that death, which, according to his Master's prediction, he underwent, and prepare myself also to take up the cross of my Lord, and fear him, and not man. By thus steadily following one train, I am led to ideas on the subject, and combinations of ideas, which had never before presented themselves; and I experience, with the increase of my spiritual knowledge, an accession also of mental wealth. At a due interval arrives another festival, the centre of attraction to another class of thoughts, which had else been too loose and vague to produce any impression; these also I fix in permanence. In this manner I am carried round the year; my views grow clearer, my resolutions more firm; such days are to me indeed holydays; in them I find a secure repose for my thoughts from the vulgar turmoil of the world around, to which I return at least refreshed, and, I hope I may add, improved.-Rev. R. W. Evans.

THE EXAMPLES OF SCRIPTURE.-Instruction is presented to us in every possible mode in the book of God. We have particularly the examples of others; and we never can be sufficiently grateful to the God of all mercy and grace for them. We like to see a thing exemplified. The description of a machine is not enough for an inquisitive individual; he should see the machine itself, and at work too, if possible, to have a correct idea of the ingenuity of the inventor, and the success of the invention. Those whose histories are recorded in Scripture were like ourselves; they had the same enemies to contend with; they were placed just as we are; and yet they have triumphed. Their histories are given to encourage us to approach God at all times, in all places, and under all circumstances. A sick man sometimes will hardly hear of a physician being called in. No persuasion, no entreaty will avail; he will not suffer him to be sent for. At last a friend comes in and tells him, "I was much worse than you are, and the physician has cured me." This gives the sick man confidence; he puts himself under

his care, and soon experiences the good effects-he is restored to perfect health. I view the examples of Scripture in this light.-Rev. W. Howels.

SPIRITUAL PRESUMPTION.-I know nothing in this life equal to the state of a man justified freely in Christ Jesus, either for power of holiness, or happiness of mind. Created anew, he becomes like his Master, as his Master was in all things like unto him, sin only excepted. But sin, in its nature and inclinations, he cannot get rid of yet awhile. Satan is beaten down in the believer, sin is enchained, the flood-gates are stopped; but that is all. Take the foot from Satan's neck, and he rises like a giant refreshed; knock off the fetters, and the prisoner is in arms again; move the pressure from the mouth of the water-pipe, and the stream rushes into the air with its former force. It is only, then, so long as grace reigns that sin does not reign; and any doctrine which goes to impress the believer's mind with the idea that he cannot sin-that henceforth sin is extirpated-is a doctrine that would also go far to sap every principle of obedience, of sanctification, and of Gospel peace. Few and evil are our days, and we have our treasure but in earthen vessels. "This one thing I do," should be the Christian's motto; for in making our "calling and election sure," we should be neither slothful nor dissatisfied-we must fight manfully against sin, the world, and our evil nature, and "endure hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ" to our dying hour.From Sermons on the Temptation of Christ in the Wilderness, by Rev. E. Scobell.

DEMONIACAL POSSESSION.As at the transfiguration, Moses and Elias appeared in glory to foreshew the future state of the blessed, so may the fearful spectacle of a human being possessed by evil spirits have been designed as a representation of future punishment. The demoniac knew Christ, yet avoided and hated him. An outcast from the intellectual and religious world, he grieved, yet he could not repent. In the deepest misery and distress, he heightened his agony by self-inflicted torments. The light of heaven, which occasionally broke in upon his melancholy dwelling among the tombs, served only to render his "darkness visible." Although I have not met with the opinion elsewhere, I cannot but consider that we are here presented with a fearful and overwhelming description of the future misery of the wicked, by the visible power of the devil over the bodies and souls of men. The account of the demoniacal possession may be regarded as an awful warning addressed to mankind, how they also come into the same state of condemnation.-Rev. George Townsend's New Testament.

Poetry.

THE FALL OF NINEVEH.

(For the Church of England Magazine.)

LOUD swells the gathering shout; the trumpet-blast
Of victory through tow'r and temple rings;
And festive beams their lurid lustre cast

On midnight's brow, and gild her shadowy wings: And from the flower-arch'd streets the night-wind brings

A soft perfume, whilst music's distant sound
Are on its pinions borne; and radiant flings
Its arms of light th' illumin'd city round:
And darkness, startled, flies beyond its utmost bound.

For Nineveh rejoiceth: there hath sunk
A foe beneath her conquering chariot-wheels;
And proud Assyria, as with triumph drunk,

From shore to shore in one vast revel reels.

And as from forth her palace-walls there peals The exulting laughter of her mighty ones, One joyous thrill the assembled nation feels; And rolling o'er its farthest bound'ries runs The tide of triumph loos'd by Asshur's conquering

sons.

Fill to the brim the sparkling goblet, fill!
And bid the viol and the harp awake
Their wildest melody; the morrow's ill

Be with the morrow borne! The fool may quake
And tremble, as life's phantom-shadows break
His taper's glimm'ring light: our wiser art
Of life's frail flow'rs shall smiling chaplets make,
And wreathe them round our brows;-soon may
depart

Their bloom, but never fades their perfume from the heart.

Son of Semiramis, beware! the voice

Of prophecy hath darkly told thy doom; And Victory, proclaiming now" Rejoice!" Her wings may fold on fall'n Assyria's tomb. Dark clouds are gath'ring, and within their womb A dread volcano sleeps, whose wak'ning fires, Rous'd by thy heedless revelry, in gloom

Shall shroud thy greatness; and thy buried sires Shall groan within their graves as Ninus' race expires.

And, hark! there is a sound, as of the rush

Of mighty waters in their strength; behold The Tigris burst its armed banks, and crush Its barriers, as the giant ranks of old The foe before them! wave on wave hath roll'd In freedom forth exulting; and the roar Of the wild billows in their joy hath toll'd The knell of Nineveh; for on her shore They rush, and foaming leap the tott'ring ramparts

o'er.

And down, with thund'ring crash, the citadel

Falls, shatter'd by the shock; the trembling ground Shakes to the city's centre, and the swell

Of the vast torrent rolls in triumph round The dwellings of the doom'd; its voice hath drown'd The drunkard's shout; or by the feast o'erthrown, Alike the watcher and the watch'd are found:

And gloom hath mantled o'er the heights that shone

All radiant from afar, proud Asshur's jewell'd throne!

Thine hour is come, O Asshur! Tigris, erst
Thy slave, hath rent his bonds; and, hark! a cry
Of many voices on the breeze hath burst,

And ere its echo'd sounds in distance die,
Again they louder swell, till far and nigh

Peal the dire shouts of fury and of dread; And hurrying groups in wild disorder fly

The stricken city through: one tale hath spread Its terrors there,-"The foe! the foe is on our tread!"

For life they speed: before, behind, is death;

And from their grasp their cumb'ring treasures fling

Jewel, or gold, or costly garb,-for breath

Is costlier than them all: around there ring

The virgins' shrieks, as seiz'd they shudd'ring cling To some lov'd bosom that hath ceas'd to beat; And widows wail, and childless matrons wring

Their hands in anguish; and from street to street The tide of battle rolls, in strife or in retreat.

The leaguer'd bands have won ; and, shouting, haste Towards the regal courts, the gorgeous prize Of blood pour'd forth for gold! and pour'd in waste; For from their tow'rs the lurid vapours rise, Ting'd with the crimson light, and o'er the skies Spread their red canopy: with sudden ire Burst forth the roaring flames, and mock the cries Of baffled avarice with their tongues of fire; And Asshur and her king fill one rich funeral pyre! And Nineveh hath fallen! Where are now

Her grandeur and her pride? The voice of mirth Sinks strangely to her heart; her diadem'd brow Droops in the dust, and on the arid earth Her wither'd chaplets lie: her household hearth The fox hath made his home; and wailing low The desert winds moan bleakly o'er the birth Of desolation; and in sadness flow

The murm'ring waters past the shores they cease to know.

PERAMBULATION.-It was a custom formerly, and, I believe, in some parts the practice is still continued, to perambulate the boundary of estates. The persons employed in this survey generally consisted of some of the principal inhabitants of the place, accompanied by the clergyman, who implored God's blessing and favour on their undertaking before they set off, and renewed their supplications at certain places as they proceeded. A psalm was also sung at the conclusion of the perambulation. The following devout and appropriate prayers were used on such an occasion, May 20th, 1737, at Easton Maudit, Northamptonshire, an entry of which is made in the parish register. "O almighty Lord and everlasting God, Creator of heaven and earth, in whose hands are the bounds of nature, which she cannot pass, who hast divided the earth for the use of man among the inhabitants thereof, that they may peaceably and thankfully possess the same to thy glory; and, to prevent the covetous desires of men from disturbing the peaceful order of thy providence, by invading each others' rights, hast appointed a curse to fall on those who shall remove their neighbour's landmark, which their fathers have set in old time to their inheritance; sanctify, we beseech thee, with thy blessing this our solemn procession, in thy name, to view the bounds of this part of thine heritage committed to our charge; and grant that we so rightly preserving the ancient limits thereof, may glorify thee for thy goodness to us, and so use the portion of earthly things allotted to us, as we finally lose not the eternal things of thy kingdom, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." "O God, the Author of plenty and Giver of all good things, we humbly beseech thee to send thy blessing on the labours of our hands, that, through thy most wise and beneficent providence sending such weather as the season requires, those fruitful springings of thy bounty, which we now with joy and humble gratitude behold covering the earth, may in due time rise to a plentiful and joyful harvest, to thy praise, and the support of us, thy unworthy servants, in the constant discharge of such things as shall please thee, through Jesus Christ our Lord and Saviour. Amen." "O holy Jesus, who,

when thou hadst finished gloriously thy sacred mission for our redemption, didst ascend to thy Father and our Father, to thy God and our God, that, by the merits of thy continual intercession for us, we may always obtain such things as are necessary to our eternal peace; and, finally, by following thy steps, may arrive at last at a share in thy glory; we humbly beseech thee to pour forth thy grace and Holy Spirit into our hearts, that thereby we being enabled to live worthy such glorious and eternal hopes, may be of the number of those who shall inherit the blessed fruits of that redemption thou hast purchased by thy blood for us, and when thou shalt come again with glory to judge the world, may meet thee, with joy and humble confidence of thy mercy, in the heavens, through thy own merits and sufferings, O holy Jesus, our eternal God and Saviour. Amen." "Our Father, which art, &c. Amen." "The grace of our Lord Jesus, &c. Amen." The psalms: one stave of the 19th psalm, beginning at the first verse; one stave of the 65th psalm, beginning at the tenth verse; one stave of the 147th psalm, beginning at the first verse.

PROGRESS OF POPERY.-Nor would it be foreign to the purpose of our meetings, if I were to point out the progress of the Church of Rome, and to call upon you, as ordained defenders of the faith, to mark well the signs of the times in this respect. I am not prepared, indeed, to state that there has been any material increase in the members of this Church within this diocese. It is true that a few additional chapels have been built, if I am correctly informed, in both the counties; but this in itself is not a certain test of their success in proselytism, and of the augmentation of their numbers. It has ever been the policy of the Romanists to let the supply precede the demand - to let the chapel wait for the worshipper, not the worshipper for the chapel. Do I blame them in this matter? I blame them not. The children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light. Would that our Protestant feelings could be roused into a burning jealousy in these things! But these chapels, if indicative of nothing more, are at least evidences of the resources at the command of the builders, and of their activity in employing them. We should be blind to passing events, if we did not see the danger which is menacing our Church from hand, is even now above the horizon; and it becomes this quarter; the cloud, already bigger than a man's us to be upon our guard against the approaches of an enemy who will find, I fear, his vantage-ground in our departure from primitive ecclesiastical discipline, and in the general vagueness of principle which prevails on the subject of Church membership and Church union. -Bp. of Winchester's Charge (Dr. C. R. Sumner), 1837.

SIR EARDLEY WILMOT.-A gentleman who had filled many high stations in public life with the greatest honour to himself and advantage to the nation, once went to Sir Eardley Wilmot in great anger at a real injury that he had received from a person high in the political world, which he was considering how to resent in the most effectual manner. After relating the particulars to Sir Eardley, he asked if he did not think it would be manly to resent it? "Yes," said Sir Eardley, "it would doubtless be manly to resent it; but it would be godlike to forgive it." This, the gentleman declared, had such an instantaneous effect upon him, that he came away quite another man, and in a temper entirely altered

66

from that in which he went.

LONDON:-Published by JAMES BURNS, 17 Portman Street, Portman Square; W. EDWARDS, 12 Ave Maria Lane, St. Paul's; and to be procured, by order, of all Booksellers in Town and Country.

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CHRISTIANITY THE PRIMARY MEANS OF MENTAL DISCIPLINE.

BY THE REV. WILLIAM GURDEN MOORE, Rector of West Barkwith, Lincolnshire. To allow ourselves unfettered latitude of sentimenti. e. to permit ourselves to imagine that we are at perfect liberty to think as we may please, and are under no positive obligations to bring the mind under any control whatever-bears so close an alliance to licentiousness of practice, that it is the first duty of a people, and especially a Christian people, to counteract and to remedy so fatal an error. Man is not a solitary being, destined to live in a wilderness, to brood over his own day-dreams, to adapt every thing to his own selfish purposes, or to order every thing according to the counsel of his own will, uncontrolled by other agency, and by regard to the wants and weaknesses of others of his species. He is born for society, as well as for himself; and his thoughts, as well as actions, must be governed and directed according to the twofold object of his creation. The obstacles, however, which oppose themselves to this duty are of such a nature, that it is impossible to overcome them, without in the attempt inducing a total revolution of human character, as it is at present constituted-without, in fact, effecting previously a thorough subjugation of the will. Those obstacles arise from the nature and habits of our race, from the jealousy with which we view any seeming entrenchment upon what we deem an inherent and established right.

Our passions common sense teaches the necessity of controlling, otherwise the surface

VOL. V. NO, CXXIV.

PRICE 1d.

of life would be ruffled by storms without intermission, and without any hope of their termination. Our liberty of action, too, we readily allow to be limited, because if every individual were to be the sole arbiter and interpreter of his own ways, there would be no end to the collision of interests which would necessarily follow; the peace and harmony, even the consistency, of society would be in constant danger. But to place fetters upon the mind, and those worked out of religious principles,-this we consider so derogatory to human nature, such a degradation to our pride, that the very mention of it raises an armed band ready to contend with the bitterest hostility against those who should presume to affix them. But a greater degree of self-knowledge, not to mention Christian feeling, would convince us that the happiness of the human race depends upon the discipline of the mind; that, indeed, liberty of action without it is the movement of a machine whose regulator has lost its power and efficiency. Man is not equal to the task of self-government, unless his moving principle be derived from above; because every power and faculty he possesses is, by nature, under the control of one who leads him captive at his will, and whose servant he has become willingly, and, as far as he of himself can bring about a change, irrevocably. To maintain the contrary is indeed an assumption as old almost as the creation; and the history of the world is an account of a series of experiments made, under every possible form, to realise the grand result of self-government. As far as it is possible to judge, however, it is not likely to be realised, so long as virtue is

sought to be instilled as a beautiful and necessary ingredient in human society, while the principle is wholly lost sight of from whence alone every thing that is virtuous in conception and in action must proceed. Christianity is the grand desideratum, not as a profession, but a principle, a vital, acting principle. And the very first object of Christianity is to lay the axe to the root of the tree, to discipline the mind, to place it under that influence which can alone guide it aright, and make human nature fruitful, not in good desires and grand aspirations only, but in holy, and noble because holy, actions.

This discipline of the mind is the first duty of a Christian people; it is, in fact, the first element of social order, of moral improvement, of true elevation of soul; and, far from producing those effects so injurious to its independence which many imagine, it is the true friend of rational liberty and mental aggrandisement; and while it checks deviations into error, it enlarges the capabilities both of discerning and of prosecuting what is good and right. The first sin was the spurning of control; the first fatal mistake of the great forefather of the human race arose from the pride of self-government, a dislike of the subordination necessary to his own character and conduct: other circumstances might, and no doubt did, concur in producing it; but his grand error, and that which has been ever since attended by the most hurtful consequences to his posterity, was the self-willed destruction of that just equilibrium which the command of his Maker had imposed, by allowing a latitude of opinion, a mental liberty, discountenanced by religious duty, by reason, and by natural affection. The injunction which was laid upon our first parents was the boundary-line which to them defined right and wrong, and was therefore to them a means of mental discipline, and of fitting them for a higher degree of happiness, as the reward of obedience to its dictates. But the imposition of a command elaborated resistance to it, and induced the abandonment of all the good they had in possession for some anticipated extension of rights and privileges.

The same causes will ever produce like effects; and every deviation from right feeling and right action may be traced to that self-same source from whence has flowed the turbid stream of human misery, viz. the pride of self-government, the abhorrence of mental discipline, the independence of the will.

To remedy this primary defect of our nature is therefore the grand desideratum; to bring the mental faculties once more under proper control; to subject them to the dominion of those pure principles which influenced

the actions of an innocent being; to place them in the position they formerly occupied; and while every way ward fancy is checked, to increase their capability of receiving and conferring happiness,-this, if it can be effected, will prove the best antidote to the divisions of Christians, and make them of one mind, even the "mind which was in Christ." But such a revolution of thought, will, and affection, can only be brought about by means similar to those which actuated man while a holy, innocent, and supremely happy creature. Recourse must be had, consequently, to the same power by which he was then sustained; and that proud, independent spirit, which characterised his fall from thence, must clearly be made a sacrifice at the demands of peace and order. This, however, is God's work, and not man's. It implies a renovation of moral power, a renewal of the spirit of the mind, which is as much a work of creation, and therefore the sole office of the Divinity, as the creation of light, or the separation of the earth from the waters. But why, it may be alleged, call in Divine aid to remove a grievance, the cause of which may be disputed, and for which man's natural good dispositions and correct feelings, aided by precept and education, are fully adequate? This is the point certainly upon which the whole matter hinges; and if man himself were a competent judge of his own state and condition by nature, he would be justified in believing and asserting, that his own powers were adequate to all his wants, to the remedy of all his deficiencies. But the Scriptures give a very different account of man from that which his self-love is either willing to credit or to act upon; and the argument therefore comes to this: Are we to believe God or man? are we to yield assent to the Divine testimony, though it militates against the strongest feelings of our nature, and to use that remedy which infinite goodness and mercy has provided for the renovation of the mind? All the arguments which man an adduce from the necessity of moral subjugation, and the education and control of the will and understanding, are as unsubstantial as shadows, without consistency, without force, without any vital principle, without any analogy to that reason by which we are governed in our conception and elucidation of general truths. They imply a perfection in the human being of which he is destitute; a power to revoke a sentence which has gone forth against him, which has weakened the moral strength; the ability of producing good from one steeped to the very lips in sin, and tainted at the very fountain of thought, desire, and imagination. This the Scriptures affirm as the fact; of this