citement. If any one is heard to say, I cannot get such a thing out of my head, or, my thoughts are so confused that I cannot rest or sleep,-he must be in a state of danger; and whether the cause be physical or moral, the means of safety must suggest themselves. If the former, by counteracting the cause of diseased nervous excitement; and if the latter, by strongly diverting the feelings into new channels. The former may always be referred to a want of healthy tone in the digestive organs, and to a want of healthy action in the secretions; but if stimulants or sedatives are used, or the complaint is treated as a local inflammatory disease, the mischief will almost always be increased; the most gentle assistance to the efforts of nature, can only be resorted to with safety. In moral treatment, the great point is to counteract the diseased excitement of the imaginations by strong sensations; and the strongest are those received by the eye. The sight of novel and striking objects will do more to dissipate the fumes of a diseased excitement of the imaginations than any other application to the senses; and a Londoner taking a tour through Wales or Scotland, with strict temperance, and the gentle but persevering use of aperients, will seldom fail of the desired effect, if in company with a talkative and agreeable friend; while a countryman might derive an equal advantage from a first visit to London.

In the pursuit of intellectual attainments, it may be laudable to exert the mental energies beyond what pure reason would suggest as a matter of health; for all that is great and praiseworthy in the human character, is owing to an increased energy in the ideas and mental feelings; and an increased energy always goes to the risk of a diseased energy, and this would be insanity. It is therefore of the highest importance that we should well understand the structure and most latent operations and functions of the human mind and thoughts, that we may have timely notice of our danger; if, as may be confidently asserted, it is laudable to contend in the race of intellectual excellence, and yet that, to run too fast or too far, is attended with danger of the most afflictive of all human disorders. It

THE RELIGIOUS WORLD.

No. II.-The Church of England.
(Continued from col. 144.)

So much has been said of this important subject, that but little new remains to be advanced; our observations will therefore be few and cursory.

It is to us a cause of great satisfaction, that some of the most distinguished names which stand in the galaxy of English literature, are found enrolled in our established church; and, perhaps, in no age have the clergy of that church been more distinguished, in this respect, than in the present. It is still more gratifying that the productions of clerical authors generally, if they have not been of a decidedly religious cast, have at least the merit of being unexceptionably moral; while, in many instances, they have not only been the delight of the boudoir and the drawing-room, but have also effectually subserved the interests of religion in general, and of that set of opinions termed orthodox, in particular. Of such characters the memory of every reader will furnish a pleasing list. This age is remarkable for a great and extensive increase of knowledge, and καθὼς ὁ λαὸς, οὕτως καὶ ὁ ἱερεύς· "These three years I have taken note of it; the age is grown so picked, that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he galls his kibe."

A fact still more pleasing is, the decided melioration in the morals of our clergy. It is undeniable, that there have been men among them, whose character did more mischief than all the lay sinners in their parishes--immoral men-and men who in proportion to their immorality were intolerant and persecuting-in whom was outraged all the spirit of that religion which they professed to teach. We do not mean to say that there are no such men now; but it is to us a

subject of sincere thankfulness, that they are considerably diminished; and this we impute, partly to the cause adverted to in our last paper, and partly to other causes, on which it will now be our business to offer a few observations.

The notions which are generally entertained respecting Christianity, vague and incorrect though they be, are nevertheless sufficiently defined, as to certain broad distinctions of right and wrong. No one, for instance, can imagine drunkenness and debauchery to be consistent with the doctrines of the gospel, and hence, however great might be their attachment to the venerable establishment, those who have observed these flagrant sins in its ministers, accompanied with an utter disregard for the spiritual interests of their flocks, have thought, and thought properly too, that such individuals could not be the bona fide ministers of the gospel of Christ. Hence, if they have been at all careful about religion, they have sought for teaching respecting it from other persons, and from this has arisen the great prosperity of dissenters; for, finding that dissenting ministers united to a consistency of character, a zeal for the good of their charge, they who left the church, under the idea of a mere temporary cessation, have remained beyond its pale, and without possessing, or perhaps even knowing, the principles of the seceders, have eventually become seceders themselves, as far as practice was concerned. This, as might naturally have been expected, has produced a reaction in the Church of England. The ministers of that church have been roused to a sense of their interest. In many instances, even more has been done-they have been excited to their duty, and have become principled ministers of the gospel. We use this term in its proper and confined sense. We mean, what in common parlance are termed "evangelical clergymen"-men who, notwithstanding all misnomers, live and preach the glorious doctrines of the church to which they belong-doctrines which identify themselves with the existence of Christianity itself, in all its purity, excellence, and elevation. These ministers follow the fathers, who wrote and taught in conformity to the counsel of God. We

know with what contempt and obloquy they have been treated; we know how they have been traduced; we know the attempts which have been made to render them insignificant and ridiculous; and yet, knowing all this, we hesitate not to say, that the truest glory derived by our church from human agency, is gained from these men. We do not, we never can, forget the feelings with which we first perused Cowper's character of Leuconomus ; and did our limits allow, we should be pleased to quote the whole of that admirable description, as particularly suited to our present subject. Let the conclusion of it suffice:"Blush, calumny! and write upon his tomb, If honest eulogy can spare thee room, Thy deep repentance of thy thousand lies, Which-aimed at him-have pierced the offended skies; And say, Blot out my sin, confess'd, deplor'd, Against thine image in thy saint, oh Lord!"

" HOPE."

May the number of such men be increased a thousand fold!

There are, we allow, characters of a very different kind, commonly associated with ideas of the honour of the church-characters which, like comets, though exceedingly brilliant, are yet eccentric and of little service; while these are, in the emphatic language of inspiration, "the lights of the world." They may be little known

their sphere of labour may be exceedingly limited-but there are fruits of their labours on earth, which are registered in the centre of eternity; and they will ultimately share that glory, a glimpse of which was once afforded to a prophetic eye, when the sleep of the dust shall cease, " and they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever."

In proof of the usefulness of these men, we may appeal, not to the saving souls from death and hiding a multitude of sins, but to a test which every bigoted churchman knows how to estimate. Have they not actually checked the progress of dissent? have they not filled the churches to the prejudice of the meeting-houses? Is it not notorious, that in those places which are blessed by the ministry of evangelical clergymen, there exists an unequalled attachment to the church, and vice versa? These are undeniable facts, and need no com

ment. And is there not, under these circumstances, a proportionate increase of Christian morality? To say, as some high churchmen will say, that additions to the church, by such means and of such a character, are neither advantageous nor honourable, is saying nothing, or at least nothing which will weigh in the argument: for if the above assertion be admitted to be true, it proves that what is morally right is ecclesiastically wrong, that the interests of the Establishment are entirely unconnected with those of religion itself, and that what promotes the one, impedes the other; an alternative so discreditable, that we believe there is no man, of sense and right feeling, who will not instantly reject it.

It is not a hasty opinion of the writer, that there is very little real dissenterism in the religious world. Half, or perhaps nine-tenths, of those who call themselves dissenters, do not object to any of the essentials of the church. They take no exception to episcopacy, nor to ministerial ordination by the imposition of hands, nor to forms of prayer, nor to the wearing of canonical robes, nor to the use of instruments of music in worship; in fact, the last four are common among themselves; nor do they dissent from the doctrines of the church; but they object to the characters or conduct of some of the clergy, or they think some part of the forms of prayer used in the Establishment objectionable; and, in matter of fact, as to both these grounds of dissent, many conscientious and sensible churchmen are equally awake. Nor need this be a matter of surprise.* From these circumstances, and from the general character of the times, we augur, that were the doctrines of the church, as contained in her articles, faithfully preached, systems of dissent, if not actually terminated, would be reduced to a degree of insignificancy hitherto unknown. We mean not to say that a coalition of the religious world in any one set of opinions or mode of

There are very few who approve of the creed of Athanasius; fewer of the sponsorial system in the baptism of infants, and the "seeing that this child is regenerate," in the same service. The declaration in the burial service beginning with "Forasmuch as it bath pleased Almighty God, &c." is highly objectionable. Prayers on "the bappy deliverance of King James I. and the three estates of England, from

worship would promote the interests of religion generally, but we are assured that such a consummation is the object of the devout desires of the present high-church party, as it was of their predecessors, and therefore for them to object to the characters and conduct of their evangelical brethren, is an absurd and anomalous piece of inconsistency.

We are free to confess that the latter are by no means immaculate, either in learning, or morals, or preaching. Making every allowance for the disparity of their numbers, we believe that they do not nearly pos sess an equal portion of erudition with the other part of the clergy; nor can we say that we are great admirers of their pulpit style generally. What, in our opinion, is still worse, we find among them much of the esprit de corps, the quicunque vult spirit, i. e. intolerance. It might reasonably have been expected, where there was a similarity of design and of feeling, that the tokens and salutations of Christian fraternity would not have been withheld. But, no; even among the evangelical clergy, we discover unequivocal symptoms of dislike to those who do not exactly agree with them in some of the minor points of our common religion. We blush for the characters of those who, professing themselves to be Christians, instead of rejoicing at the prosperity of their dissenting brethren, have actually rejoiced in and encouraged manifestations of intestine discord among them. Events have come under our own notice, in which unprincipled men have met with encouragement in Utopian and unprincipled schemes, for causing schisms in Christian churches, from some of the most talented, popular, and respectable of the evangelical clergy. There is still more behind the scenes, which we now forbear to mention. There are some illustrious exceptions to such censures, but these are but too scarce.

Among the lay part of the church we believe there has been an increase the traitorous and bloody intended massacre by gunpowder," connected with " deprecation of judgment on account of the murder of Charles I.,"" thanksgiving for the restoration of the Stuart family, and for the landing of William III." All these are the most palpable and farcical inconsistencies, and proofs that our Book of Common Prayer needs careful and immediate revision.

of piety during the last twenty years. There has obviously been an increase of the observance of the more elevated formalities of the Establishment; and though this may, and unquestionably does, sometimes exist, without any real accession of spirituality, yet we do hail it, in not a few cases, as the real and proper result of principled piety.

To conclude: Although there are many subjects for regret, yet there are also many causes for gratitude and exultation, which present themselves to the mind in a survey of the Church of England. Of all established systems, in which there has been a union of ecclesiastical and political power, this is unquestionably the best. We look forward to the time when our church shall shake herself from the dust; when every cloud that has obscured her glory shall disappear, and every stain which has sullied her garments shall be washed away; and in a spirit of deep and intense attachment, we bestow upon her the best wishes that a human heart can conceive. Peace be within thy walls, and plenteousness within thy palaces; for our brethren and companions' sake we will now say, "Peace be

within thee!"

POETRY.

E. E. E.

(For the Imperial Magazine.)

ON GOOD FRIDAY.

The Sun of Righteousness passing through all the Signs of the Zodiac of his Suffering. Luke xxi. 15.

"And there shall be signs in the sun."

O LIGHT of ages, consecrated light!
Thy smile is sunshine, thy displeasure night:
Permit a worm to trace thy mystic track
Through all the signs of sorrow's Zodiac.
And as my fancy follows, let my wo,
At every stage, in liquid lustres flow;
O let my faith a firmer footing take;
My hope revive, my love in hymns awake;
Till, call'd to bliss above yon planets bright,
My faith is vision, and my hope delight;
And all, through one eternal day of love,
Shall glorify the Lamb in hymns above!

Jesus, the day-spring of Millennial morn, In Virgo, first, of a pure Virgin born Was true divinity, in flesh enshrin'd; Majestic God with infant weakness join'd! A mystery, all mysteries above; A vast sublimity of grace and love! In Leo next his shining orb was roll'd; And "Judah's Lion" brings the age of gold:

The Lamb and Lion he divinely blends,
To foes a Lion, but a Lamb to friends;
A roaring Lion, in the broken Law,
Redemption's glorious era now began,
A Lamb, in love's redeeming plan to draw:
And "paradise restor'd," was sung by Man!
In Gemini, the twins, I see him shine
A Mediator, Human and Divine;
The Man-the God, redemption's glories crave,
The Man for sin to suffer, serve, and bleed;
The Man to expiate, the God to save;
The God, to stamp a value on the deed:
The golden Altar Deity supplies,
The sacrificial Lamb upon it dies!
Anon, from Cancer, lo! he darts his light,
And many a priest (say crab) oppose and bite,
And Herod too-but what are kings to God,
Who thrones and sceptres withers with a nod?
For on he roll'd to Pisces, and I see
His light beam o'er the sea of Galilee,
In soften'd radiance, that sweetly stole
Through all the secret windings of the soul;
On lowly fishermen, the lustre play'd,
Who own'd Messiah, and his call obey'd,
And left their homes, and counted all things
dross,

To preach, and trust, and glory in his cross!
In Libra, next, his equal love I trace,
A common centre of unbounded grace
For All-who mercy ask and favour seek,
His equal care extends to Jew and Greek,
Without respect of persons all may come,
O Advocate of partial grace, be dumb!
Extend from Crab to Goat, from Pole to Line;
"Mercy and truth," in amplitude divine,'
O'er all, the banner of the Cross shall wave;
The mighty sovereign and the meanest slave
May "kiss the Son" in adoration sweet,
And in the Lamb their common centre meet.
From Capricorn I see his beams descend,
But filthy goats abborr'd the sinner's friend;
The Scribes and Pharisees, those holy knaves,
Those "whited walls," and nicely painted

graves,

Hated the light that took their masks away,
And on their falseness shed a beam of day.
To quench bis lustre, sanctimonious rage,
The rabble mob, the perjur'd wretch engage
Against the Lord's Anointed, Virgin born,
But God, in glory, "laugh'd their rage to

scorn."

"Upon his holy hill, his Son he set," And bade the wretches bite their lips and fret! In Taurus next his agony behold; While o'er his head the wrath of heaven roll'd; "His righteous soul," infernal furies tore, And Justice press'd him till he sweat in He felt the scourge's lacerating wound, While "Bulls of Bashan" fiercely tear the ground,

gore.

A flight of arrows from the rabble fell, And crucify him" was the general yell. I see him now through wild Aquarius roll A sea of sorrow, surging o'er his soul,

As for man's sin "he trod the wine-press flood,

And burst from Bozrah ting'd with his own blood."

"To make bis soul an offering for sin,”
"An everlasting righteousness to win,"
In Aries, the Ram, behold him bleed,
A spotless sacrifice for Adam's seed!
"The everlasting Sire, the Great I Am,"
Say rather, Muse, a sin-atoning Lamb!
And now his beams in Scorpion's sign I see,
And Roman soldiers nail him to the tree;
The wrath divine, its venom'd sting infix'd,
But human guilt the mortal poison mix'd:
All nature mourn'd, the rocks with wailing
ring;

But deeper still the Scorpion fix'd his sting!
From vein to vein the mortal poison ran,
And God of Glory dies a suffering Man!
Salop.
JOSHUA MARSDEN.

Note to the Poem.

In this emblematic poem I have not followed the order of astronomy, which begins when the Sun enters Aries in March, and terminates in Pisces the beginning of March following. Neither have I preserved unity of figure, as that would have led me too far from the sense I wished to convey. For this last fault, however, I may take shelter under the wing of some of our most correct poets. Pope, for instance, in his Illiad, says

"Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod, The stamp of fate, and signal of a God." Now, a stamp must either be a stamp made with the foot, or an impression made with a seal in the hand, and not by a shaking of the curls, or more properly the head. J. M.

Behold from his side the warm current proceeding,

'Twas pierc'd with the spear, and his head with the thorn;

Lo! justice stands stern while his wounds are all bleeding,

And gives the deep anguish to pitiless scorn. Till loaded with terror all nature is shaking Than mortals more tender it pierces the stone;

Earth crush'd to its centre still awfully quaking, Recoils from the base of the marble to groan. The vail of the temple loud rending in sunder, Presages its fall, and redemption unbound; The Serpent is bruis'd and his kingdom put under,

Now Mercy meets Justice, they kiss, and are crown'd.

Approach then, ye guilty, to Calvary's moantain,

For you thus the Saviour his heart's blood hath spilt;

The balm for your healing all runs in that fountain,

O prove how it purges from sorrow and guilt.

And the victim that there you see mangled and gory,

Submitting to torture, reviling, and pains, Shall rise from the tomb crown'd with honour and glory,

When death and the grave in their region he chains. GEORGE WILSON.

DISAPPOINTMENT.

I KNOW thy form so very well,
So often have I seen thee gaze,
With a still, sad, unruffled face.

That all thy features I can tell.
When pleasure led me in her way,
And shone around the summer's day;
And when I thought that joy would be
The end of all my efforts:-suddenly
I saw thee staring fixedly,

And turned to weep and mourn. And joy and pleasure fled full fast, To some far happier clime, Where expectations are not cast Aside by ruthless Time,

Ah! never after to return!

When first I trod this dreary world,

I never thought of thee or thine;

I dreamt, when misery's dark flag was furl'd,
The sun of gladness evermore would shine :
But when, upon a time, I stooped to take
The toys which, spread upon my pathway,
lay,

I felt my very inmost heart to shake,

For, lo! the beaming light was drawn away; And when I looked me up unto the sky,

I saw thy black wings spread before the
glory,

I heard thy low and heart-oppressive cry,
That told me all the sorrow of thy story.

Some bright days I have seen below,
Some joyful ones have known;
But they were short, and swift did go,
And now they are all flown.

I should, long since, have quite forgotten them,
And hardly known that ever they could be,

But thou, appearing at their close,
The signal of the coming woes,

Hast cherish'd their so transient beam,
And kept them in my memory.

I tasted of a cup so sweet,
That, oh! I thought it meet
For angels to partake of; and I drained
The chalice, even to the sediment:

And lo! at bottom thou hadst placed
Thine ever little self;

And I, poor thoughtless elf,
Drank till my heart was pained,
And every joy debased,
And in the bitter, all the sweetness went.
Oh! if thou would'st but take thyself away,
And never let me see thy face again,
Thou mayest carry every sunny day,
And leave alone the burning heat of pain:
For when we catch at pleasure,
And feel instead of treasure,

We clasp thee, smiling sadly, to our breast;
It is far worse than if the dart

Of misery pierced into the heart,

And took away our rest.