תמונות בעמוד
PDF
ePub

Be thou, O Holy Spirit! nigh;
Accept the humble prayer,
The contrite soul's repentant sigh,
The sinner's heart-felt tear;
And let our adoration rise
As fragrant incense to the skies.

If of thy heavenly grace one beam
Still in our bosom shine,

O kindle it into a flame

Of grace and truth divine;

And bid each earthly passion flee,

That would withhold our hearts from thee.

And when our eyes shall close in death,
And dust returns to dust,
Then let the last expiring breath

Be breathed in humble trust;
And bear the longing soul away
To realms of everlasting day.

[blocks in formation]

WORSHIP OF THE VIRGIN.-If my reader will
accompany me to Florence, a city in Tuscany, which
seems to be more particularly under the protec-
tion of the Virgin, he will find that the extravagant
adoration paid to the Virgin Mary in that city does
not come short of the pattern which has been exhi-
bited, and which tends to stamp the character of the
Romish worship in the present day. In the Church
of St. Mary of Impruneta, near Florence, there is a
miraculous picture of the Virgin, which is highly
esteemed throughout all Tuscany. Under the appre-
hension of any extraordinary danger, this picture is
carried in solemn procession through the streets of
Florence, accompanied by the prince, the nobility,
the magistracy, and the clergy. To establish the
miraculous power of this picture in procuring relief
on different occasions in cases of imminent danger,
various acts and records are produced to prove the
several benefits which have been obtained through
the intervention of this all-powerful picture. In one
of these records testimony is borne to a miraculous
cessation of a pestilence in Florence, after a three
days' procession of the picture in question. An in-
scription, set up in the church about a century ago,
has the following words: "There is no one who can

be saved, O most holy Virgin, but through thee;
there is no one from whom we can obtain mercy but
through thee. Mary opens her bosom of mercy to
all, so that the whole universe receives out of her
fulness; the captive, redemption; the sick, health;
the afflicted, comfort; the sinner, pardon; the just,
grace; the angels, joy; the whole Trinity, glory."
Such are the divine honours and blasphemous ad-
dresses ascribed to the Virgin at this day by the
members of the Church of Rome in the city of
Florence; of whom St. Paul would have said, as he
did of the inhabitants of Athens, "Ye men of Flo-
rence, I perceive that in all things ye are too super-
stitious." But what would the apostle have said had
he entered the Nicholini chapel in Florence, in which
there is a dome beautifully painted in fresco, having
for its subject the coronation of the Virgin Mary?
In the centre of the piece the Virgin is seated; whilst
on one side stands a venerable old man, intended to
represent our heavenly Father; on the other, a young
man, the intended representative of our Saviour;
both of whom are engaged in placing a crown on the
head of the Virgin Mary; whilst the third person in
the Trinity, under his emblem of the Dove, is hover-
ing over the scene. This picture never fails to be
shewn to the traveller with no small degree of osten-
tation, as a sublime representation of the honour due
to the Virgin. St. Paul, it is most probable, would
have found no other difference between the idolatrous
worship paid to the great Diana at Ephesus, and that
paid to the Virgin Mary at Florence, except that the
former was paid to an imaginary heathen goddess, the
latter to a deified mortal woman. But in both cases
the honour due to the one true God is invaded; and
the command delivered by our Saviour, that the Lord
our God only should be worshipped, is equally broken,
though in a somewhat different way.-Daubeny's Pro-
testant Companion.

THE WILD Ass.-The wild ass, or para, celebrated
by Job, is generally understood to be the onager, an
animal which is to this day highly prized in Persia
and the deserts of Tartary, as being fitter for the saddle
than the finest breed of horses. It has nothing of the
dulness or stupidity of the common ass; is extremely
beautiful; and, when properly trained, is docile and
tractable in no common degree. It was this more
valuable kind of ass that Saul was in search of when
he was chosen by the prophet to discharge the duties
of royalty. "Who hath sent out the wild ass free?
or who hath loosed the bands of the wild ass? whose
house I have made the wilderness, and the barren
sand his dwellings. He scorneth the multitude of
the city, neither regardeth he the crying of the driver.
The range of the mountains is his pasture, and he
scarcheth after every green thing" (Job, xxxix. 5-8).
-Russel's History of Palestine.

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

We must beg our poetical friends to grant themselves and us
a little respite. We weekly receive as many verses as would
almost on the average fiil half a Number of the Magazine. We
must add, that it is utterly impossible for us to return those
which we are unable to insert.

We had written the above lines when the enclosure of "A
Churchman" reached us. He will see in them a sufficient reason
why we decline his offer.

TO SUBSCRIBERS.

Vol. III. is now ready, price FIVE SHILLINGS, embossed
cloth. Vols. I. and II. may still be had, uniformly bound, price
HALF-A-GUINEA the Set. Single Numbers and Parts may at
all times be had from the commencement.

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.

PRINTED BY

ROBSON, LEVEY, AND FRANKLYN, 46 ST. MARTIN'S LANE.

[merged small][merged small][graphic][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

THE RESPONSIBILITY OF CHRISTIANS TO
ATTEMPT THE CONVERSION OF THE
HEATHEN.

BY THE RIGHT REV. JOHN KAYE, D.D.
Lord Bishop of Lincoln.

No. II.

PRICE 14d.

lar moral law in which he has been bred,
without any reference to the name of Christ,
procure for himself eternal life. But its
object in pronouncing this condemnation was
to strike at the root of that doctrine, which is
the foundation of the worst errors of the Church
of Rome, the doctrine of human merit; and
not to decide upon the future destinies of the
heathen. Them it leaves, where they may be
safely left, to the mercy and to the justice
of God, who, the apostle tells us, "will accept
the actions of men according to what they
have, not according to what they have not"
(2 Cor. viii. 12).

THOUGH the opinion respecting the future
destinies of the heathen world, which I have
endeavoured to vindicate from the conse-
quences unfairly charged upon it, has re-
ceived the sanction of many learned and pious
men, it would perhaps have been better if all
had imitated the discreet forbearance of our
If we examine more closely the train of
own Church, nor entered into the discussion reasoning which the framers of our Articles
of a question which the Scriptures have left pursued upon this question, it will appear
undetermined. For, however it may suit the to have been somewhat of the following
purposes of sceptical writers to misrepresent kind :*-Men are born in a state of aliena-
the opinions entertained by the framers of tion from God, in consequence of the trans-
our Articles, it is certain that they have pro-gression of their first parents, and are of
nounced no decision upon this interesting
subject. One of the ablest advocates of infi-
delity in modern times has, indeed, affirmed
the doctrine of our Church to be, "not only
that no heathen, however virtuous, can escape
an endless state of the most exquisite misery,
but also, that every one who presumes to
maintain that any pagan can possibly be
saved, is himself exposed to the penalty of
eternal perdition."* But in what passage of
our Articles is such a doctrine contained?
The Church, it is true, condemns the pre-
sumption of all who affirm that man can, by
a simple obedience to those principles and
rules of conduct which he has derived either
from the light of nature, or from the particu-

• Hume's History of England, Edward VI. A.D. 1551. VOL. IV. NO. LXXXVI.

themselves unable to please him. From
this state of enmity they have been relieved
by the death of Christ, so that they who are
baptised into his name and believe in him,
are no longer under condemnation, but are
placed in the capacity of performing works
acceptable in the sight of God, and of
attaining unto everlasting life. Since, then,
the good actions even of Christians are so
imperfect, that they are only accepted through
the merits of Christ; can we venture to
ascribe a greater degree of efficacy to heathen
girtue? Can we venture to ascribe to it
such perfection as will fit it to endure the
Divine scrutiny, or establish for its possessor
a title to an eternal reward? Such a sup-

Hey's Lectures, b. iv. art. xiii. sect. 1.

C

[ocr errors]

position would imply, not only that the Gospel confers no advantage upon those by whom it is embraced, but that it even places them in a worse condition than the Gentiles who have never heard the name of Christ. We pronounce, therefore, all heathen virtues faulty and defective in themselves, and incapable of enduring the severity of God's judgment; and we condemn that presumption, which, when the Scripture hath set out unto us only the name of Jesus Christ whereby men must be saved, would substitute in the place of that holy name the performances of weak and sinful men. But we should ourselves be guilty of presumption as great as that which we condemn, were we to say that, because the heathen cannot obtain salvation through their own unassisted efforts, they will therefore be eternally excluded from the mercy of God. Far, then, from meriting the imputations of dogmatism and intolerance which have been cast upon them, the framers of our Articles appear to have exercised upon this question the same temper and moderation which marked every other step of their progress. Whether, however, we imitate their discreet forbearance, or adopt the more decided language of those who affirm that the Gentiles, who have never heard the name of Christ, will nevertheless be partakers in the benefits derived from his death; in either case, a mere comparison of the moral condition of the heathen and of the Christian world sufficiently proves that it is our bounden duty to diffuse, as far as lies in our power, the knowledge of the Gospel throughout the earth. But when to this consideration we add the positive injunctions of Scripture, no further doubt can remain as to the course which is prescribed to all the professors of Christianity, but especially to those who have taken upon them the ministerial office. The command to go and teach all nations was neither confined to the persons of the apostles, nor to the times in which they lived. We who have succeeded them as labourers in the Lord's vineyard are bound, according to our several opportunities, to enlarge its limits, till at length the promise made by our blessed Lord to his Church shall be fulfilled, and the glad tidings of salvation be conveyed to the remotest corners of the globe. The extension of Christ's kingdom is an object of which we can never be allowed to lose sight. Though he has not called us personally to undertake the office of converting the heathen-though he has assigned us the easier duty of upholding his dominion amidst a people who have, through a long series of ages, acknowledged themselves his subjects; we ought, on this very account, to feel an increased solicitude for the welfare,

an increased desire to promote the success of those to whom our common Master has allotted a severer, a more perilous servicethe task of encountering the adversary of mankind in regions over which he has hitherto ruled with undisputed authority, and of breaking the chains of vice and superstition by which he has succeeded in holding the miserable inhabitants captive.

I cannot but think that, as a people, we have not felt that lively interest in the conversion of the heathen world, which either its own importance, or a just sense of gratitude for the national blessings conferred upon us, ought to have inspired.

Let us carry our thoughts back for a moment to the period of our blessed Saviour's appearance upon earth, and consider what was then the situation of this country; a subject of meditation not unsuitable for the present festival of the Church. Sunk in the grossest ignorance and superstition, the worshipper of deities whom he hoped to propitiate by shedding the blood of human victims, the ancient Briton could boast no higher place in the scale of civilisation than the islander of the Pacific Ocean in the present day. Had the eloquent writer, from whom we have received the earliest account of the state of our country, been told that a time would arrive when the descendants of the despised barbarians whom he beheld, would become a great and powerful nation; that their fleets would cover the seas, their enterprising industry leave no corner of the globe unexplored; and their dominion be extended over countries of which, when he wrote, the existence was not even suspected; - had the Roman conqueror, when he first set foot upon the shores of our island, been told that such would be its future fortunes, he might have been excused for receiving with an incredulous smile a prediction which appeared so far to transcend the utmost limits of probability. Yet the time has arrived when we see every part of the above description fully realised, and when our national greatness will bear a comparison with that of Rome in the plenitude of her power. But while we exult in the distinguished rank which we hold among the nations of the earth, does it never occur to us to inquire whether this envied distinction has not been conferred for some particular end? If we look back to the history of the ancient empires, we shall find that each in its season of prosperity was made subservient to the accomplishment of some great plan which the Almighty had devised in his secret counsels. While the Roman generals marched on from conquest to conquest, and thought only of increasing their country's power and glory, their victo

ries served, under the controlling hand of Providence, to pave the way for the easier introduction of Christianity into the different provinces which they subdued. Can we, then, suppose that God has raised this kingdom to its present pitch of maritime greatness for the mere purpose of advancing the interests of commerce, and facilitating the exchange of commodities between distant countries? Shall we not rather conclude, that our power was given us for a nobler end, to be made the instrument of improving the moral and spiritual condition of our fellow-creatures, and diffusing the light of revelation throughout the world?

If such, then, are the purposes for which our national prosperity has been conferred, let us ask ourselves whether we have faith

fully endeavoured to accomplish them? Let us compare the exertions which we have hitherto made, and the good we have effected, with the means placed in our hands. The result of such a comparison would, I fear, afford but slender ground for self-congratulation. But I would gladly encourage the belief, that our past indifference and insensibility have been succeeded by a better spirit,

and that a sincere desire to communicate the blessings of true religion to the heathen world now pervades every class of the community.

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.*

AMONG the papers of M. de la Harpe, whose conversion has been related in a former Number, was found the following account of a remarkable prophecy concerning the horrors that awaited unhappy France. By some it was regarded as a fictitious prediction. However this may be, to use the words of Mr. Crichton, in his Converts from Infidelity, and from whose work this translation is taken-"without entering into the controversy of its reality, or attaching any importance to it as a biographical document, it may be considered worthy of insertion, as a striking picture of that flippant and impious levity which then prevailed so universally in the literary circles of Paris."

It appears to me as if it were but yesterday, and it was nevertheless in the beginning of 1783-we were at the table of a brother academician, who was of the highest rank, and a man of talents. The company was numerous, and of all kinds; courtiers, advocates, academicians, &c. We had been, as usual, luxuriously entertained. The wines of Malvoisie and Constance, added to the natural gaiety of good company that kind of social freedom which sometimes stretches beyond proper decorum. In short, we were in a state to allow of any thing that would produce mirth. Chamfort had been reading some of his impious and libertine tales; and the fine ladies had heard them without once making use of their fans. A deluge of pleasantries on religion then succeeded. The conversation afterwards took a more serious turn;

* See Constable's Miscellany.

and the most ardent admiration was expressed of the revolution which Voltaire had produced; and they all said that it formed the brightest ray of his glory. "He has given the tone to his age, and has contrived to be read in the hall as well as in the drawingroom." One of the company told us, chuckling with ing him, "Look ye, sir, though I be but a poor laughter, that his hair-dresser had said, while powderjourneyman barber, I have no more religion than another man." It was concluded that the revolution would soon be consummated, and that it was absolutely necessary for superstition and fanaticism to The probability of this give place to philosophy. epoch was then calculated, and which of the present company would live to see the reign of reason. elder part lamented they could not flatter themselves with such hopes, while the younger rejoiced to think that they should witness it. The Academy, above all, was congratulated for having prepared the grand work, and been the stronghold, the centre, and moving principle of liberty of thought.

The

One only of the guests had not shared in the delights of this conversation; he had even ventured, in a quiet way, to let fall a few pleasantries on our noble enthusiasm. It was Cazotte, an amiable and ingenious man, but unfortunately infatuated with the reveries of the illuminati. He renewed the conversahe, "be assured you will see this grand and sublime tion, and in a very serious tone, "Gentlemen," said revolution. You know that I am something of a prophet, and I say again, that you will all see it." He was answered in one chorus, "it is not necessary to be a great conjuror to foresee that." "True, but

perhaps it may be necessary to be something more

for what I am now going to tell you. Have you any idea of what will result from this revolution? what will be the immediate consequences? what will happen to every one of you now present?" "Oh," said Condorcet, with his silly and saturnine laugh, "let us know all about it,-a philosopher can have no objection to meet a prophet." "You, M. Condorcet, will expire on the pavement of a dungeon; you will die by the poison which you will have taken to escape from the hands of the executioner ;-the poison which the happy state of that period will render it absolutely necessary that you should carry always about with you."

At first this excited great astonishment; but it was soon recollected that Cazotte was in the habit of dreaming while he was awake; and the laugh was as loud as ever. "M. Cazotte, the tale you have just told us is not so pleasant as your own pretty romance: but what has put this dungeon, this poison, and these hangmen in head? your What connexion can these have with

[ocr errors]

philosophy and the reign of reason?" "Precisely that which I am telling you. It will be in the name of philosophy, of humanity and liberty; it will be under the reign of reason, that what I have foretold will happen to you. For it will then indeed be the reign of reason, as she will then have temples erected to her: nay, throughout all France, there will be no other places of worship but the temples of reason." "In faith," said Chamfort, with his sarcastic smile, you will never be one of the priests in these temples." "I hope not; but you, M. Chamfort, you will be well worthy of that distinction; for you will cut your veins with twenty-two strokes of a razor, and yet you will survive for some months." They all stared at him, and again burst into laughter. "You, M. Vicq-d'Azyr, you will not open your veins yourself; but you will cause them to be opened six times in one day, during a paroxysm of the gout, to make the surer work; and you will die during the night. As for you, M. Nicolai, you will die on the scaffold; and you M. Bailly; and you M. Malesherbes

"Oh heavens!" said Roucher, "it appears his

vengeance is levelled solely against the Academy: he has just made a most horrible execution of the whole of it. Now tell me my fate, in the name of mercy." "You too will die upon the scaffold." "Oh!" it was universally exclaimed, "he has sworn to exterminate us all."No, it is not I who have sworn it." "What then, are we to be subjugated by the Turks or the Tartars?" "By no means; I have told you, that you will then be governed by reason and philosophy alone. Those who will treat you thus will all be philosopherswill have continually in their mouths the same phrases that you have been uttering for the last hour-will repeat all your maxims-and quote, as you have done, the verses of Diderot and Voltaire." "Oh! the man is out of his senses!" they whispered each other; for during the whole conversation his features never underwent the least change. "Oh, no!" said another, "don't you perceive that he is laughing at us; and, you know, he always blends the marvellous with his pleasantries." "Yes," said Chamfort, "but his marvels are never enlivened with gaiety. He always looks as if he were going to be hanged. But, when, Mr. Prophet, will all this happen?" "Before six years pass, all that I have told you shall be accomplished."

"Here, indeed, we have abundance of miracles," said M. de la Harpe, who now spoke; "but do you set me down for nothing?" "You will yourself be a miracle, as extraordinary as any I have related: you will then be a Christian!" Great exclamations followed this. "Ah!" replied Chamfort, "all my fears are vanished; if we are not doomed to perish until La Harpe becomes Christian, we shall all be immortal."

[ocr errors]

"As for us women," said the Duchess of Grammont, "it is very fortunate that we are considered as nothing in these revolutions; not that we are to have no concern in them, but that in such cases it is understood they will leave us to ourselves; and our sex "Your sex, ladies, will then be no defence or guarantee to you: and whether you interfere or not, you will be treated precisely as the rest, without any difference whatever." "But what does all this mean, M. Cazotte? you are surely preaching to us about the end of the world?" "I know no more of that, my lady duchess, than yourself; but this I know, that you will be conducted to the scaffold, with many other ladies, in the cart of the executioner, and with your hands tied behind your back." "I hope, good sir, that, in that case, I shall at least be allowed a coach hung with black." "No, madam; and ladies of higher rank than you will be drawn in a cart to execution, and with their hands tied

like yours." "Ladies of higher rank! what, do you mean princesses of the blood?" "Greater still,

madam."

Here a very sensible emotion was excited throughout the company; the master of the house wore a very grave and solemn aspect; they began to discover they had carried their pleasantry rather too far: Madame de Grammont wishing to disperse the cloud that seemed to be approaching, took no notice of this last answer, but contented herself with saying, in a sprightly tone, "You see he will not even leave me a confessor." "No, madam, neither you nor any other person will be allowed that consolation. The last victim who, as the greatest of all favours, will be permitted to have a confessor on the scaffold, will be

Here he paused for a moment. "And who then," they cried, is the happy mortal that will be indulged with this special and ghostly prerogative?" "Yes, the only prerogative that will then be left him -it will be the king of France!"

The master of the house here rose abruptly, and the whole company were actuated by the same impulse. He advanced towards M. Cazotte, and said to him in an earnest and impressive tone, My dear

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

M. Cazotte, we have had enough of these melancholy conceits; you have carried them too far, even to the exposing of yourself and the company in which you are." Cazotte made no answer, and was preparing to retire, when Madame de Grammont, who still wished, if possible, to banish serious impressions, and restore good humour and gaiety among them, advanced towards him, and said, "My good prophet, you have been so kind as to tell us all our fortunes, but you have said nothing respecting your own." After a few minutes' silence, and with his eyes fixed on the ground, Madam," he replied, "have you read the siege of Jerusalem, as related by Josephus?" "To be sure I have; and who has not? But you may suppose, if you please, that I know nothing about it." Then you must know, madam, that, during the siege, a man for seven successive days went round the ramparts of that city, in sight of the besiegers and the besieged, crying continually, in a loud and inauspicious voice, Woe to Jerusalem! and on the seventh day he cried, Woe to Jerusalem, and to myself! and at that very moment, a huge stone, thrown by the machines of the enemy, struck him, and dashed him to pieces." After this reply, M. Cazotte made his bow and retired.

[ocr errors]

Here M. La Harpe's note of this singular convivial meeting breaks off. How literally Cazotte's prophecies, whether real or pretended, were accomplished, every reader knows who is acquainted with the horrors of the French Revolution.

Biography.

THE LIFE OF BISHOP HALL.

[Continued from No. LXXXV.]

SOON after the commencement of the seventeenth century the most violent controversies agitated the Low Countries, respecting some of those doctrinal points, chiefly with reference to the divine decrees on which Calvinists and Arminians differ. In order to allay, if possible, these unhappy disputes, the tend.. ency of which was most detrimental to true religion, the states of the united provinces resolved to call together a national synod at Dort; and, at the same time, requested the aid of foreign princes to send a number of divines to attend it for the purpose of giving advice. In 1618, King James selected Dr. Carleton, bishop of Llandaff; Dr. Hall; Dr. Davenant Margaret professor at Cambridge; and Dr. Ward, master of Sidney College, to proceed to the continent, and to be present at the synod. After remaining there for about two months, Dr. Hall was compelled to leave from bad health. "The unquietness of the nights in those garrison towns," to use his own language, "working upon the tender disposition of my body, brought me to such weakness through want of rest, that it began to disable me from attending the synod." Before his departure, however, he preached a Latin sermon to the synod, from Eccles. vii. 16, in which he endeavoured, as much as possible, to allay the violence of controversy. "What have we to do,' said he, "with the disgraceful titles of remonstrants and contra-remonstrants, Calvinists and Arminians ? We are Christians, let us be like-minded; we are one body, let us be of one mind." He returned to the Hague, in the hope that quiet and rest might recruit his strength; but finding himself becoming weaker,

« הקודםהמשך »