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desire to remove all Sabbath-restraints, the wildest political principles-principles which, if the statements in the public prints be correct, go so far as to avow that the majority of a nation have a right, if they see fit, to put to death the minority who differ from them in politics? Nor is this all: who would expect to find undisguised idolatry in this land of light and learning, of intellect and science? Yet late disclosures respecting the St. Simonians in London have shewn that even Englishmen are capable of bowing down to stone idols, images of heathen gods and goddesses; of praying to them and trusting in them; that there are places in our proud metropolis where the gods of Greece and Rome are regularly worshipped, and where the profligacies naturally resulting from such idolatry openly prevail. It is true that at present the common-sense of society views with disgust and treats with contempt such political extravagancies, such pagan absurdities. Yet the simple fact, that such things can find place for an hour, and to the most trifling extent, among natives of enlightened Britain, is enough to shew how soon God could let loose among us fully and madness, horrors and atrocities. Do we boast ourselves highly favoured as a nation?-the greater is the danger from our national sins. The Lord said to Israel of old, “You only have I known of all the families of the earth, therefore I will punish you for all your iniquities." Let this be a warning to you also. By the same prophet, he described their prevailing wickedness, one chief feature of which was, that men said, "When will the Sabbath be gone, that we may set forth wheat?" Is there nothing of this spirit in the opposition which the due observance of the Sabbath meets with in our own great commercial nation? He then threatens their civil blessings, on the one hand, saying, "I will cause the sun to go down at noon, and I will darken the earth in the clear day." And next, on the other hand, he threatens their spiritual privileges: "Behold the days come, saith the Lord God, that I will send a famine in the land, not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord; and they shall wander from sea to sea, and from the north even to the east; they shall run to and fro to seek the word of the Lord, and shall not find it" (Amos viii.). Let England fear, for her civil blessings and her spiritual privileges are far greater than those of any other nation; and He who gave them, who preserves them, and who can at once take them away, is Lord of the Sabbath, whose day she so much slights.

The Cabinet.

CHRISTIAN FELLOWSHIP.*-If the regions of eternal woe may be emphatically described as "the place where all hate all," while heaven may be truly designated as "the place where all love all," it must plainly follow, that the more the Christian's heart is enlarged to embrace all, of every age and every clime, who have been "led into the way of truth," and have "held the faith in unity of spirit and in the bond of peace," the more will he experience within himself, what he may indeed regard as an earnest and a foretaste of that blessed state where God's people shall no more be exposed to be "tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine," but where they shall "all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ." Disunion in every shape and degree must be the work of that "old serpent," who first tempted Adam and Eve to depart from the only fountain of their happiness, and who has ever since been engaged

From an excellent little work, "The Book of Common Prayer a Manual of Christian Fellowship." By Rev. Robert Anderson, Brighton. 12mo, pp. 34. London, Hatchards. 1839.

in "deceiving the whole world," by endeavouring to separate its inhabitants from God, and from one another. But the love which subsists between the members of Christ's body, proves that they are citizens of heaven. And if, therefore, when Satan came against the Captain of our salvation, he prevailed not, because "he had nothing in him,” it is equally certain that he shall not prevail against the soldiers of the cross. For by being made one with Him who is "the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever," they participate in the strength and the perpetuity of all his adorable perfections. And happy indeed are they who are thus continually meeting together in the Lord Jesus Christ, as the centre of all holy fellowship; and who, by thus "dwelling together in" that "unity," which is as "the dew that descendeth upon the mountains of Zion," are enabled from their own experience to set their seal to the apostle's declaration, and say, "We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren." Now it is when viewed in the light of the foregoing considerations, that we are enabled to understand the full blessedness of Christian brotherhood, as embracing, all in every age and every country, who have belonged to the blessed company of God's faithful people. And the man who habitually regards himself as being enrolled among the members of this "one communion and fellowship," will find himself raised, not only above all the trials and all the vicissitudes of human life, but also above all those petty jealousies, all those unhappy divisions, and all those bitter strifes, which make this world the wilderness it is. And as he walks by faith amidst the inhabitants of the heavenly Jerusalem, he will hear the accents of that still small voice, which hushes into repose all the angry elements of this unquiet world; and he will experience through all the faculties and all the affections of his soul, a joy with which "the stranger intermeddleth not," and a "peace which passeth all understanding." Such, then, is the nature, and such the extent of that Christian fellowship which is inculcated in all the services of the Church of England. And it is evident that such a practical consideration of this important subject must tend, on the one hand, to guard us against one of the strongest and most injurious tendencies of our corrupted nature; and on the other hand, to strengthen and encourage the growth of that heavenly grace of love to God and man, which will prove that we have been "renewed in knowledge after the image of Him that created us."


DEATH DEPRIVED OF ITS STING.-It would be to handle most unfaithfully the gracious word of God, if we were to speak of the sting of death, and yet to remain silent touching that merciful provision which, the Lord of life hath made to deprive it of its bitterFor, in truth, the secret is not to be found in the storehouses of ancient wisdom. There is much, perhaps, to be found there which may gratify and elevate an awakened understanding, but nothing, literally nothing, which can assuage the pangs of an awakened conscience. The sages of old could tell us, and tell us most truly, that vice and moral turpitude, in all their varieties and degrees, pollute and degrade the nature of man, and liken him to the brutes. And cold indeed must be our hearts, if they kindle not within us at the words of flame in which their indignation breathes against the lusts which, thus far, war against the soul. But with all their powers, these mighty masters are speechless as to that wherewith a sinful being shall come before the Lord, or bow himself before a holy God, who cannot look upon uncleanness or iniquity. Now, here it is that the oracles of God pour in a flood of light upon the darkness that is around us; for they not only tell us that sin is the disgrace and torment of life, and that it is the sting of death, but they likewise speak to us of a way more excellent than was ever thought of in the days of

ignorance; a way by which God can be just, and yet the justifier of them that believe in his mercy; a way in which death may be deprived of its sting, and its vietory may be wrested from the grave. Sin, in short, is the confession of all religions under heaven. But what religion is there but the religion of the cross, which speaks of any sovereign remedy for sin? What religion is there but the religion of the cross, which tells us of a power which yearneth to help our infirmities, and to aid our pleadings before the mercy-seat, with groanings that refuse the utterance of words? What religion is there but this which tells us of One who is the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever, and who ever liveth to intercede at the right hand of God for them that come unto him in penitence and sorrow? How then shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation? And how shall we attain to that

salvation-how shall we ever desire it, or even think of it, if all our care is, not to destroy the serpent that stings our life, but merely to deaden the smart of its venom; to lose all recollection and all sense of anguish in the anodynes, and the charms, and the sweet but deadly potions, which this world is perpetually holding to our lips?-Rev. C. W. Le Bas.

SIMON MAGUS.-If Simon Magus was the first who profaned the name of Christ to his philosophical ravings and his unholy mysteries, he is a proof to what an extent delusion and credulity may be carried; but he is also a proof that mere human philosophy alone may play around the ear, and exercise the head, but it does not touch the heart. "Where is the wise? where is the scribe? where is the disputer of this world? The foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men."-Burton's Bampton Lectures.

Poetry. MONODY

On the death of BISHOP HEBER of Calcutta, drowned in a bath at Trichinopoly, before he had completed one visitation of his extensive diocese.

Minister of Ham, Surrey.

(For the Church of England Magazine.)

How dark the night that shrouds this land of gloom,
Where beams no planet o'er her sable sphere!
How deep the gulf, and crowded as the tomb,
That holds the fiends of darkness rampant here!
Amid her arid desert, sterile, drear,

No green oasis cheers the pilgrim's soul;
Whose weary way no rays ethereal cheer,

No beacon guides him to a promis'd goal:

One black, impervious mantle's folds obscure the whole.

But still more dark the purpose of the skies,
That saw of yore this starless midnight spread;
And deeper from created vision lies

Than the blue ocean's yet unfathom'd bed,
God's will, that leaves man to that glory dead,
Which fill'd him, yet unfallen, as its urn;
That plucks away the hand would raise his head,
And stills the voice would wake him to discern
Beauty from ashes, and immortal wisdom learn.

So Heber fell! He came to light the land
With the effulgence of celestial day;
To scatter blessings, with unsparing hand,
Where'er he held his philanthropic way.

As the blithe myriads in the glow of May Reviving, from their wintry prisons spring; Bedeck the sunbeams, and, with varied lay,

The glories of the opening summer sing;
So Love and Harmony mov'd with him on the wing.

Lo, now they halt, and flutter round yon tomb,
And there in silence fold their languid wings;
Their orient beauties cancell'd by a gloom,

That o'er their forms its chilling dew-drops flings:
Each, trembling, to the death-like marble clings,
Their vacant eyes in seeming anguish turn;
A plaintive requiem each to other sings,

As o'er some fallen chieftain's dust they mournWeep on, fair Truth's twin daughters! This is Heber's


Herald of peace, he left his natal shore,

Urging his way where perils bade him yield; Truth was the only banner that he bore,

The only weapon that his hand would wield. Thus arm'd for conflict on a bloodless field,

He march'd; but ere the glorious conquest won, He falls, he dies, as on his trusty shield;

The battle ended ere 'tis well begun-
The goal attain'd before his feet one circuit run.

Cold is the hand that penury reliev'd,

That dried the widow's and the orphan's tear; And hush'd the voice that lov'd to soothe the griev'd, And teach the mourner heaven's behest to hear. Children of truth, bedew his sombre bier

Not for the dead, but for the living mourn :
He now hath cross'd the sea of troubles here,
By angels to that peaceful haven borne,
From whence, to guide and bless us, never to return

For him had genius, science, wreath'd with care
The laurel, myrtle, and the eglantine;
But now, with frantic mien, dishevell'd hair,

Their listless hands the cypress wreath entwine : And Fame hangs up her clarion o'er the shrine

Of him, whose brow had worn her verdant meed; Lo, disappointed, see her head recline,

Her mantle hid beneath the funeral weed,
Her trump forsaken for the dirge-responding reed.

In him, as to their point converging, met
All that enhances and ennobles man;
But now behold his sun at noonday set,

His too brief orbit prematurely ran:
How dark, how cold, how narrow now the span,
Where the bright hopes he rais'd in embers lie!
His dawning in the East had scarce began,
Ere he was hurried to the western sky;
And night comes on, with omens lowering in her eye.

Eternal Lord, inscrutable thy ways, '

Beyond the seraphs round thy throne to scan; Whose harps and voices hallelujahs raise,

For all thy purposes of love to man:
Shall we, then, murmur at thy wisdom's plan,
When its incipient folds our hearts appal?
Ah, no! let hope light up the visage wan,
As thus in Mercy's vestibule we call-
Let Heber's mantle on our future prophet fall!

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SOCIETY.*-How beautifully is it ordered that, as many thousands work for one, so must every individual bring his labour to make the whole! The highest is not to despise the lowest, nor the lowest to envy the highest; each must live in all and by all. Who will not work, neither shall he eat. So God has ordered that men, being in need of each other, should learn to love each other, and bear each other's burdens.

THE HOMILIES.-The word homily is derived from the Greek term for an assembly. It originally signified a conference, or conversation; but has since been used for an exhortation, or sermon, delivered to the people. The Greek homilia, remarks M. Fleury, signifies a familiar discourse, like the Latin sermo; and discourses delivered in the church took these denominations, to intimate that they were not harangues, or matters of ostentation and flourish, like those of profane orators, but familiar and useful discourses, as of a master to his disciples, or a father to his children. Photius, patriarch of Constantinople, who flourished in the ninth century, distinguishes homily from sermon-in that the former was performed in a more familiar manner, the prelate interrogating and talking to the people, and they, in their turn, answering and interrogating him; so that it was properly a conversation; whereas the sermon was delivered with more form, and in the pulpit, after the manner of an oration. The practice of compiling homilies, which were to be committed to memory, and recited by ignorant or indolent priests, commenced towards the close of the eighth century; when Charlemagne, king of France and emperor of the West, ordered Paul Deacon and Alcuin to form homilies or discourses upon the gospels and epistles, from the ancient doctors of the Church. This gave rise to that famous collection, entitled the "Homiliarum of Charlemagne," and which has been followed as a model by many productions of the same kind, composed by private persons, from a principle of pious zeal. At the time of the Reformation there were several of these homilies composed and printed, and ordered to be read in such churches as were not provided with a sufficiently learned minister, in order to prevent unsound doctrine being taught in remote country places.

ORIGIN OF SACRIFICE.-That the heathen ideas of sacrifices, of which we read in numerous authors subsequent to Moses and Aaron, were originally grounded on the primitive offerings of Cain and Abel, and even

From "Godfrey, the little Hermit; a German Tale." 18mo. Burns, 1839.-A nice little book for young persons.

+ From "Analyses and Scripture Proofs of the Homilies.' By J. A. Thornthwaite. London, Groombridge.-The author of this small work testifies no mean acquaintance with holy Scripture, and brings it forcibly to bear on the sound doctrine contained in the Homilies.

From "A Popular Treatise on the Kidney," &c. By George Corfe. 8vo. pp. 304. London, Baisler; Renshaw. 1839.-This is a very extraordinary book. It is not our province, generally, to notice medical works; but there is much in Mr. Corfe's of a religious character. His statements are certainly novel, and his illustrations striking; though we think the volume not so much calculated for general perusal, as for those who wish to investigate the peculiarities of the human frame, and who may seek by such investigation to arrive at the incontrovertible con clusion, that the God of nature is the God of grace.

on Adam's vesture from a slaughtered beast, no one will doubt who attentively peruses the ancient records of the eastern nations. Indeed, it is the opinion of many persons, that as soon as our first parents fell, and incurred God's wrath and displeasure, the very beasts, whose skins covered their bodies, were, for the first time, offered as typical sacrifices to an offended God and Creator. These types were carried down from generation to generation; and whilst all the offspring of Adam's scattered race preserved the substance of the sacrifice, viz. an animal one, yet they lost the particular character of beasts commanded to be offered; and we find from Virgil, Ovid, Homer, and Herodotus, &c., that cows, and other quadrupeds, were used to propitiate their offended deities. Notwithstanding the lapse of nearly six thousand years, we still find the sacrificial offering amongst the heathen; and in an Indian missionary-journal of 1836, there is an account of the sacrifice of 1,000 sheep to a goddess, who was supposed to be highly displeased with the inhabitants of a town, and had sent the plague amongst them, by which many hundreds were carried off. the particular sacrifices and daily oblations which God had commanded his servant Moses to direct that the Jews should offer, were continued throughout the whole Jewish dispensation, until the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, who was to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself upon the accursed tree, and by his one offering to bring in an everlasting righteousness, which should be unto all and upon all them that believe on his name. "And this man, after he had offered one sacrifice for sins, for ever sat down on the right hand of God" (Heb. x. 12.)


SLEEPING-ROOMS.-Care should be taken to provide for the constant admission of fresh air into sleepingapartments, which, instead of being the smallest, ought, in reason, to be the largest rooms of the house. At all events, during the day-time they ought to be perfectly ventilated. Perhaps nothing tends so much to produce disease among the poorer classes of society as the practice of occupying the sleeping apartments throughout the day, a practice which must effectually prevent the complete renovation of the air, in such cases the more necessary on account of the confined situations of their dwellings,-Curtis on Health.

DRESS. Religion takes root in the heart; and when it has once got deeply rooted, it will be sure to regulate every thing without. It will so occupy the mind, that every thing else will begin to lose its importance. Religion puts every thing in its proper place; and makes present things lighter than vanity. Even business, or literature, or science, if any one of these takes full possession of the mind, it makes dress a very insignificant thing, and often neglected, even to slovenliness. How much more indifferent will religion make us about it! Nevertheless, it is good to avoid singularity of habit. No real Christian can give in to the butterfly-fooleries and extravagances of dress, any more than he can run into the dissipation of worldly company. Religion does not bid you turn hermit, but rather to ornament your station. careful, in your commerce with the world, to act up to the character you profess. Do not put on a Pharisaical manner of "Stand by, I am holier than thou." Yet let it appear, that while you are under the necessity of hearing their vain conversation, you have no taste for it, no delight or interest in it. A humble, kind silence often utters much.-Rev. R. Cecil, from Remains of Mrs. Hawkes.


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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"GUIDANCE and direction" in our Christian course result from the Saviour's abode in the heart; and therefore we are taught by the Church to pray, that we may both perceive and know what things we ought to do, as well as have grace and power faithfully to fulfil the same; for we require the guidance of the Holy Spirit in our prayers. St. Paul tells us, that we know not what things we should pray for as we ought; but the Spirit himself maketh intercession for us. So blind, naturally, are our hearts, that we cannot perceive what things we should ask of God; but when the Comforter influences our minds, then we feel what the nature of our supplication should be at the footstool of the heavenly grace. We are guided in our petitions, and directed by him to ask those things which are pleasing in God's sight. Moreover, the Holy Spirit acts as a guide to our outward conduct. Many are the various situations in which the Christian is placed, in which he would find it difficult to act as becomes his profession, unless aided by Divine assistance; and it is undoubtedly true, that in matters of importance he is directed by an invisible agent, who, though unseen, is at hand to guide him in the way in which he should go. And whereas when Jesus was in the world, he gave directions to his disciples under all circumstances in which it was necessary, so now does he with all his followers by the Holy Spirit abiding in the heart; and like as when God's ancient



People were led through the wilderness, in their journey to the promised land, by the pillar of fire and of cloud abiding with them continually, so is it with the Church of God.


No visible demonstration, indeed, of the Divine presence meets our gaze; yet, as we pass through the wilderness of this world to the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God, still does the abiding Spirit direct us, saying, "This is the way; walk ye in it."

One more consequence of the indwelling Spirit's abode is, "peace of mind." The apostle speaks of "the peace of God, which passeth all understanding." How frequently are we in the habit of listening to these words, time after time of our assembling for public worship; and yet how little, it is to be feared, do we enter into them! So accustomed are we to them, that they glide over our ears without producing that impression which, considering their import, they ought to do. Our Saviour's last lesson to his disciples was conveyed in these terms, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you." Now this peace is produced in the heart of Christians by the influences of the Holy Ghost; for, as the apostle informs us, "the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, and peace." Those who are given up to the world know not what that peace is. The various passions by which their minds are actuated, and the remorse arising from the neglect of duty and the commission of sin, will prevent them from enjoying that repose of spirit which is the lot of the Christian. Troubles, indeed, of various kinds he will have, and many which worldly men know nothing of; as, for example, the inward struggle with corruption

[London: Robson, Levey, and Franklyn, 46 St. Martin's Lane.]


and resistance to the attacks of the great adversary of the soul. But what can equal the blessedness of that inward peace which "the world can neither give nor take away?" In such case we may set at nought those adverse circumstances which so much affect others. How many are there who are led by untoward events rashly to put a period to their own existence, or who, if they are not so hardened as to be guilty of this sin, yet spend their days in misery,-who, if they were possessed of that peace of which the Christian can boast, would recognise in their afflictions the hand of a merciful Father, and look forward, still more devotedly, to the prospect of another world, and of that "city which hath foundations, and whose builder and maker is God!" Under every trial and difficulty, therefore, if the Holy Spirit be dwelling in the heart, the Christian will be enabled to bear up under them; and the promise will be made good, "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in thee." Such, then, are some of the blessed effects of the abiding of Jesus with us by the Holy Spirit. And can it be that there are any who are careless of his presence; any who, instead of giving a cordial welcome to him, when he promises to take up his abode with them, reply, "Depart from us, for we desire not the knowledge of thy ways?" We may do so now, but it will not be so always: a time will come when those who have set at nought the offers which have been made to them by the Saviour, will call upon him in their extremity, when, perhaps, it may be too late. Go to the sick chamber, or to the chamber of dissipation; see him who, while health and strength lasted, set at nought the willingness of Jesus to be his guide and his friend, laid upon that couch from which he shall never more rise. In his extremity he sends for his spiritual guide, till then neglected and despised, to pray with him, and speak to him of an eternal world. By this he discovers that all that was formerly held dear, is now considered of no value; that the desire for those objects, which were before so largely coveted after, vanishes; and that there is now but one wish, which is for the presence of the Saviour. See the strong man bowed down and become weak as the infant; look at the sunken eye and the faltering tongue: what think you in this hour is his support and consolation? Will he call upon those who were in times gone by his companions in sin or in neglect of duty? Will he say to them, Abide and continue ye with me; in your company I have lived, and in it I wish to die? No; he calls upon the name of his Saviour, that Saviour whom for so long a time he has


neglected and set at nought. The language of his heart is, "Abide with me, for I have now no other confidence, no other dependence." But it may be too late; Jesus may refuse to listen to the prayers of one who for so long set him at nought; and then who can think of the dreadful alternative without horror? Earthly friends can avail him nothing; and the Saviour refuses to listen to his supplication. He is about to quit the earth, and is at the same time an outcast from heaven. Nor is this the picture only of the death-bed of ordinary men; for, as it is well known, this has also been the case with those who have pre-eminently excelled their fellows in mental acquirements; and philosophical scoffers, who have all their life long ridiculed Christianity, and blasphemed the name of their God and Saviour, have on their death-beds called upon that Saviour's name in an agony. Let none, therefore, presume upon a death-bed repentance, and upon that account refuse to admit Jesus Christ into their hearts now. It may be that there are some here of whom it may be said, that it is towards evening with them, and the day is far spent; the shadows of age are fast coming on, and the night of death will soon close in the scene. Let me, with all earnestness, ask such, what will be their dependence in that hour. Be assured that you will require something upon which you may rest; in the contemplation of eternity, your mind will need a stay and a resting-place. The world it cannot be, for that will be passing from you; and nothing will then give you consolation but the presence of Christ. Let your language then be the same as that of the disciples at Emmaus-" Abide with us, for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent." And, indeed, the night of death will quickly envelope us all. Happy they who, having been blessed with the presence of their Saviour during their lives, feel that he is doubly present with them when they are most in need of his aid. Consider the case of the dying Christian, as opposed to that of the unbeliever and the careless. He who has been blessed with the presence of Jesus during his life, will find that he is with him in his greatest extremity. When flesh and heart are failing, he will realise the truth, that his Lord and Master stands near to succour and aid him. His language will be, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me." Like the first martyr, St. Stephen, he will entirely resign his soul into the hands of that Saviour who is waiting for it, saying, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." There may be no transport of joy; no ecstatic longings for the heavenly world; but there will be a

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