that Christ himself suffered death for you?' and gave the signal for attack.

The fearful strife was waged from sun-rise to sun-set, the aged monarch himself directing the movements, till, overcome by fatigue and the solicitations of his son and chiefs, he retired to his tent, where he passed the time on his knees in prayer. Victory was on the side of justice, but the day was one of mourning for Ireland. Marogh, the son of Brian, who inherited his father's virtues, was slain in single combat with a Norwegian pirate, whom he also slew,-and Brian, the venerable, the brave, the faithful-the pen shrinks from recording the deed, even when perpetrated by a Dane! Brian, still in his tent in the attitude of prayer, with hands and eyes uplifted, but left alone by his guards in the ardour of pursuit, was discovered by a flying Dane, he rushed on the defenceless royal veteran and plunged his dagger in his breast, then holding up the reeking weapon he cried out, let it be proclaimed from man to man, that Brian has fallen by the hand of Bruadair.' Sketches, p. 229.

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O war, thou offspring of our lusts, thou embodiment of all that is relentless and remorseless, thou scourge of nations, what hast thou omitted of carnaged desolation on the surface of this groaning earth? What human feeling has escaped the anguish which thou canst infliet? To what ambition and cupidity engendered in the heart of man, hast thou not lent thyself? Assuming too, thy virtues, thy heroisms, thy braveries, thy generosities, thy self-denials! Glossing over and veiling thy brutalities, reaping thy laurels, claiming thy meeds of patriotism and glory. Strip thee of all thy trappings, put off thy simulacra, and what art thou? Satan knows well what thou The sorrowing angels know it too! The Prince of peace looks down upon it! The soul trembles to consider the Divine spectator of the deeds done on our globe. O when shall ancient Christian monarchs cease to escape to heaven from garments rolled in blood? When will he cause wars to cease to the ends of the earth?

art.

One act of true generosity has more to touch the heart than a thousand acts of personal bravery; and one deed of forbearance to a suffering foe, outweighs a throng of victories.

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When Donough, the surviving son of Brian, was retreating with 1000 men, the third part of whom were in a state of exhaustion and suffering from their wounds being unhealed, they encountered, at the river Barrow, a powerful army, who disputed their passage. The king of Ossary, their leader, imperiously demanded hostages of battle." Let it be battle then,' replied the son of Brian, and the disabled refusing to be placed in shelter, prepared with their comrades for the unequal fight. Binding up their wounds with fresh green moss, and supporting their backs against stakes driven into the ground, the dying dispersed among the living, each grasped in his feeble hand

the weapon of war. Sight as mournful, but not so monstrous as that

which men now living remember still, when Napoleon had a thousand wounded to dispose of before he quitted the shores of Egypt. This sad array of brave and wounded men, rallying as best they could, melted the hearts of their opposing countrymen, and heedless of the wrath of their upbraiding commander, they flung down their arms and suffered the fugitives to pass on.

Ireland for a time had a degree of repose, but had become an object of cupidity to the kings of England. William Rufus viewing it from a high rock in Wales, said I will have the shippes of my kingdome brought hither, wherewith I will make a bridge to invade this land,' The king of Leynster heard thereof, and after he had paused a while, asked of the reporter, hath the king in this great threatening inserted these words, if it please God.'No.' Then said he, this king putteth his trust only in man, and not in God, I fear not his coming.' Sketches, p. 251.

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Ireland was finally subdued by English emissaries, in the reign of Roderick O'Connor, the last king of Erin. Henry II. artfully kept back himself, till the time when he could make a triumphal progress through the subdued land, and appear rather in character of protector than conqueror. He received the adherence of the minor or vicekings, we know not well how to distinguish them, such as the king of Munster, Leinster, &c., conciliating them with gifts and courtesies.

It was not till 1175, that the public announcement was made of Pope Adrian having in 1151, granted the kingdom to the politic Henry. The grant was confirmed by Pope Alexander III.,-Peter's pence, levied on every house in England as well as Ireland, being the Pope's share of spoil, after the deed of robbery was completed. The history of its wrongs and of its crimes is better known as we approach our own times. We need not go over the list of absentees, of subdividing, subletting, and middle men. The folly of taxing a country with a band of clergy who are ignorant of the language of those whom they are appointed to teach, and all the aggravating circumstances of tithe-drawing by the intruders, and exactions and wicked devices of the more welcome, but even more pernicious Papists. A rector who spends his Irish income at Bath and Cheltenham, or in Italy or Germany, as his fancy dictates, neglects the flock, but he does not ride over their consciences-he does not prevent their reading the Scriptures, if voluntary benevolence should put the means of doing so in their power, he does not subject them to endless exactions, which are only limited by his knowledge of the extent of their possessions, as the priest does. Yet, by the Episcopalian the flock is wronged as well as by the Papist. It has long been proved, that it is not by commanding a country to become instructed, that it can

be taught. It is not by cramming any set of forms or opinions on a people, that their adoption can be secured.

The contrast between the industry and cultivation of the Ulster or Presbyterian quarter of the island, and the neglect and indolence observable in the south and west, show that the keeping of saint days, and the levying of mass-dues, form serious impediments to their external prosperity. Indeed, the need of seeming to possess nothing, lest the priest's exactions should claim the whole, operates as seriously against cheerful industry and a wise economy, or desire after outward respectability, as the ancient baronial customs and claims of tannistry and gavelkind did, which rendered possession and inheritance so uncertain, that no man cared to expend time and labour on what might soon be taken from him.

With respect to the government of the island, what has it not cost to England of anxiety, vexation, severities, and punishments. The sums expended in erecting prisons and barracks, not even naming the cost of the armies which have tenanted them, would have gone far, if wisely used, in fencing, building, and draining, in cherishing and teaching the people confidence, to have elevated them from the hut in which they dwell with their pigs, and to give them a motive for industry and good order, which is now entirely lacking. And above all, if instead of bolts, bars, and transportations, they had sent them Irish-speaking teachers, and the free use of the holy Scriptures, which their priests sedulously deny them, her people would long ere now have been clothed and in their right mind.

Sir Hugh Gough discerned the value of such a method of controlling the people in the days of Captain Rock, when a valiant corporal, at the head of his band, kicked in the door of a cabin, where a meek Irish reader was exercising his office, surrounded by a few of his neighbours, and when the corporal had wisely made seizure of the holy book, as containing the Rockite rules, and also of the reader, whom he bound with cords. When this feat was achieved, the reader and his company having been detained in durance for the night, it was discovered by Sir Hugh next day, on examination, what an act of injustice and folly had been perpetrated by the soldiery, he rebuked his corporal, saying I tell you, sir, that if there were many such men in this country, and many such books in their hands, we should have little need of blunderers such as you to keep the peace.'

ART. VI.-Memoir and Remains of the Rev. Robert Murray M'Cheyne. By the REV. ANDREW A. BONAR, Collace. 2 vols. fcap. 8vo. Dundee: 1844.

ROBERT MURRAY M'CHEYNE! To dwell on his saintly character would be a pleasant theme. At this realizing moment to produce his effigy seems a possible task. That countenance so benevolently earnest with its gleams of brightness flitting over its settled pensiveness, that eye so mild and penetrating, as of one who had seen through the world's vanity before he had discerned the Saviour's beauty, that forehead familiar with high and holy thoughts, -that disentangled pilgrim-look which showed plainly that he sought a city,' the serene self-possession of one who walked by faith, and the sequestered musing gait such as we might suppose the meditative Isaac had,—that aspect of compassion, in such unison with the remonstrating and entreating tones of his melodious and tender voice,—that entire appearance as of one who had been with Jesus, and who would never be right at home till where Christ is, there he should also be :-these things we think we could delineate; for associated as they are with some of the most solemn and delightful hours of personal history, they come back on memory with a vividness which annihilates the interval since last we saw them, and with that air of immortality about them, which says, joyfully, He is not dead but sleepeth. To know him was the best interpretation of many texts. At least, we have a clearer conception of what is meant by a hidden life,' and a 'living sacrifice,' and can better understand the sort of life which Enoch led, since we made the acquaintance of Robert M Cheyne.

Happy would it have been for Scotland had all its churches and manses witnessed the scenes with which St Peter's, Dundee, and the abode of its minister had become familiar. So heart-deep and humbling were the confessions of sin in Mr M Cheyne's family prayers and in public worship; so far did he descend into the inward abysses of atheism, and carnality, and hypocrisy ; and so faithfully and mournfully did he lay before the Lord these hidden plagues, the perversities of motive, and the intricacies of self-righteousness, that nothing was so fitted to convince of sin and destroy confidence in the flesh. Then in his prayers he held such reverential and endearing communion with a reconciled God,-he pressed so near the throne, there was something so filial in his Abba, Father,' it was so obvious even to lookers-on, that he was putting his petitions and praises into the golden censer,-so express, and urgent, and hopeful were his supplications, that it was awakening to hear him pray. It was enough to make some Christians feel, Hitherto we have asked nothing in Je

sus' name;' and enough to prick the heart of prayerless worldlings. His preaching was a continuation of his prayers. In both he spoke from within the veil, his hand on the mercy-seat, and his eye fixed on the things invisible. His usual address was calm and evenly, but arresting and enchaining. His hold of the truth gave him a hold of his hearers. He was at home in the pulpit. He did not need to bestow that care on composition which is incumbent on less gifted men. His poetic fancy and instinctive taste, with a steady flow of thoughts and words, saved him much trouble in this respect. But that was all. He did not avail himself of his fine genius and happy power of language, to procure a name for eloquence. He was content that the subordinate end was answered, and that even in extempore addresses he could proceed without embarrassment or hesitation. His eye was single, his aim was souls,-souls for Jesus' sake. He had some other use for his bow than to entertain his hearers with the twang of the sonorous string. The salvation of souls was his object; and in his study preparing for the pulpit, and in the pulpit looking down upon his people, all his anxiety was to find truth that would penetrate the conscience, unawakened consciences of all kinds of people, and truth which would lead anxious souls to the desired landing-place of peace with God. This unity of purpose gave a continuous earnestness and solemnity to his ministry. His feeblest appeal was more personal and importunate than the most pointed exhortations of vaguer ministers in their most faithful moods. His solicitude for the salvation of his hearers made him affectionate even beyond his natural tenderness. Sometimes a smile of momentary bitterness would be provoked when depicting the absurdity of sin and the infatuation of sinners; but it instantly subsided into the habitual compassion with which he yearned over souls. So well understood was his errand, so accustomed were they to the entreating voice and expostulating attitude of this ambassador of Christ, so thoroughly aware that he was seeking their immediate conversion were the most careless in his congregation, that any disquisition which had not a present and practical bearing, a sermon without Christ or without earnestness would have astonished the most indifferent among them, and made them fear that their minister was no longer himself.

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Commending the truth to every man's conscience in the sight of God, a demonstration of the Spirit seldom failed to accompany his preaching. His ministry at Dundee was a constant awakening, and he seldom addressed an auditory elsewhere without its proving to some a time much to be remembered. Nay, a demonstration of the Spirit accompanied his presence. His visits to pious families were hallowing, and his casual contact with secular men was solemnizing; and even those who only wondered and perished' knew that a prophet had been among them indeed.

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