Notes and Reflections for Family use, never before published. The most approved Readings and Marginal References will also be given, so as to render the work as complete as possible. London: Thomas Ward and Co.

TRULY Christian readers of the Holy Scriptures will possess an inestimable treasure in this "Condensed Commentary on the Bible." The last three Parts, to Number XI. are now before us; and we congratulate the public on its being so near to completion. Unless, however, the last is intended to be a very large one, it cannot possibly be completed in the twelfth part; and rather than the Introduction, Chronology, and Indexes," should be meagre and greatly restricted, which we fear, we should much rather see it extended to thirteen parts.

We can only say of this truly "elegant and useful" work, that of all the Commentaries that have ever been published in the English language, this "Condensed Commentary on the Holy Bible," promises, in our judgment, to be most universally valuable, and best adapted for general utility. We cannot, therefore but cordially recommend it, especially to our young friends and Sunday-school teachers.

THE DEATH OF MOSES.
FROM Pisgah's top, the morning cloud
Had silent past away-

And o'er the hills the sun-beam glow'd,
Where late its shadow lay;
When forth the prophet sped his way
With heavy heart and slow,
To view the land that would repay
Their wand'rings long and slow.
Above him tower'd the snow-clapt height
Majestic yet serene,

Whilst every voiceless crag was bright
Amidst the golden sheen;
How varied spread around the scene
The prophet there might view;

The rocks that seem'd on air to lean,
The shade the forest threw.

About his path the lava bed

Shot forth its fiery gleams,

He mark'd the ruin that it spread

O'er vineyards, groves, and streams;

Nor sight was there, save peerless beams,
To meet the gazer's eye,~

Nor sound, save the hoarse bittern's screams,
Or thirsty camel's cry.

He watch'd the banner'd multitude

Far down upon the plain

That look'd like ocean storm-wrecks strew'd Upon the fire-lit main :

And, wearily, his eye-balls strain

To count the unnumber'd host,

The marshall'd camp, the warrior train,
In distant dimness lost.

He saw the valleys, stretching wide
From Gilead unto Dan,

Where Jordan roll'd his stately tide

And infant rivers ran;

Where Kedron, soft, his course began,

Soon melted in the sea;

And wilds, untrod by foot of man,

In their sublimity.

The cities, whose wide fame surpast
The praises of the brave,

The tow'rs whose darken'd shadows cast
Their splendour o'er the wave;

All doom'd to be a silent waste,

The dragon's lone retreat,These met his eye, in prospect vast Spread out beneath his feet.

Then rose the prophet's soul in prayer
For Israel and their race,

That they might make that land so fair,
Their lasting dwelling place;
Before them still the heathen chase,
The flying foe pursue,

The Lord to go before their face,

His hand to guide them through.
Faint fell the accents on the ear
Of those who linger'd by,
The soldier leant upon his spear,
The maiden clos'd her eye;
The prophet then prepared to die
Alone before the Lord,

And laid his staff and garments by,
Obedient to his word.

But for his place of sepultre

Doth no man go in quest,
He sleeps upon the mountain bare,
The eagle for his guest:

Green waves the cypress o'er his breast,
The earth-worm heaves the soil,
And like a warrior he doth rest
With glory for his spoil.

"WE ALL DO FADE AS A LEAF." ISAIAH Ixiv. 6.

WHO can view the dead leaves falling,
And restrain the heavy sigh?
Or, their beauteous youth recalling,
Wish they did not bloom to die?
Who can gaze with cold indifference,
On chill autumn's changing scene?
Who that calls not to remembrance,

Days which time can ne'er redeem ?
Mourn not summer's days departed,
Spring again will clothe the trees;
Cheer the dull and drooping-hearted,
With its soft enliv'ning breeze.
Mourn ye young, your youth is fleeting,
You are changing as the leaf;
And your spring knows no repeating,
Quick it passes, bright and brief.
Think not days of joy and gladness,
Ease and peace, will long remain;
There must be a time for sadness,

Time for death, and time for pain. Changing as the leaf and tender, You may fall and fade away; But you've SOULS, and they must render Their account on that great day. Let not autumn's solemn warning, Pass unheeded and unheard; Every leaf which now is falling Speaks a solemn warning word.

NOCTURNA.

London: Printed by JAMES S. HODSON, at his residence, No. 15, Cross Street, Hatton Garden, and Published by him at 112, Fleet Street; where all communications for the Editor (post paid) are to be addressed; sold also by Simpkin, Marshall, and Co., and by all other Booksellers, Newsvenders, &c. in the Kingdom.

The trade may be supplied in London, by STEILL, Paternoster Row: BERGER, Holywell Street, Strand; in Manchester, by Ellerby; Sheffield, Innocent; Newcastle-upon-Tyne, Finlay and Charlton Liverpool, Arnold.

"Published on Saturday, Oct. 1, 1836.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF ST. ALBAN.

ST. ALBAN occupies a distinguished place in the legendary ecclesiastical biography of our country. He was a person of some note before his conversion to Christianity in his native town, Verulam, born of Christian parents, and flourished in the latter part of the third century. St. Alban is regarded as the first Christian martyr in England; but it is impossible to disentangle his true history from the mass of worthless legends, the inventions of the adherents of the Romish popery.

Alban appears to have gone to Rome in his youth, in company with Amphibalus, a monk of Caerleon, then the metropolis of Wales. He is said to have served seven years in the army of Dioclesian, and on his return to Britain, to have embraced Christianity, in which he had been instructed by Amphibalus. He remained faithful to his profession of the Gospel until the year A.D. 303, when a dreadful persecution was carried on under the joint emperors, Dioclesian and Maximianus.

British Christians shared especially in the cruel. ties exercised by the Pagans, and Alban is said to have suffered in the following manner. Having entertained a persecuted monk of Caerleon, it was reported to the Roman governor, who summoned him to answer for having afforded an asylum to one whose religion denounced the worship of those divinities which were honoured by the emperors. His guest was required, but Alban himself appeared before the Roman governor, at the time of his offering sacrifice. He was provoked by the presence of Alban, who refused to adjure his faith as a Christian, or to unite in sacrifice to the false divinities. Having

VOL. V.

been put to the torture he continued stedfast, when the enraged judge ordered him away to execution by beheading.

Tradition abounds with extraordinary tales of miracles which happened on the occasion of his death. Bede and other ancient writers, but several centuries after the event of Alban's martyrdom, relate that on his way to execution, vast crowds appearing on the bridge of the river over which he was to pass, he prayed for a passage through the stream, which miraculously divided, affording him, and 1000 persons who accompanied him, a dry path through the midst, like Joshua and Israel at the river Jordan: that this miracle converted the exccutioner, who threw away his sword offering to die with him or in his stead: that having walked up a neighbouring hill, in his thirst he prayed for drink and a fountain opened at his feet: and that the eyes of the wretched executioner dropped out of his head at the instant of his giving the fatal stroke. We learn from the same testimony, that many of the spectators were converted by means of those miracles.

Milton, in his History of England, makes the following remark, after just mentioning Alban, in allusion to the legendary tales of miracles, "The stories of whose martyrdom, soiled, and worse martyred with the fabling zeal of some idle fancies more fond of miracles than apprehensive of truth, deserves not longer digression."

When the east end of the church of St. Alban's was repaired in 1257, the labourers found some leaden chests, containing relics; and on a plate of lead, the following inscription:-" In hoc manso les, inventum est venerabile corpus Sancti Albani, proto

TT

martyris Anglorum :”—that is, "In this monument has been found the venerable body of Saint Alban, the proto-martyr of the English."

Divine honours were paid to the name of this saint, after the manner of the Romish church, and a festival appointed to commemorate his virtues. On that occasion a hymn was sung to the praise of the saint, part of which was as follows:

"Ave proto martyr Anglorum,
"Miles regis angelorum,

"O Albane, flos martyorum."

HISTORICAL NOTICES OF ST. ALBAN'S ABBEY. St. Alban's, a pleasantly situated town, twenty-one miles north-west from London, with a population of 3092 in 1831, stands associated with several memorable events in the civil and ecclesiastical history of England. Ambition and superstition have each found in this place a theatre for some of their most celebrated deeds.

St. Alban's, called by the Romans Verulam, was a city of some note when Julius Cæsar invaded Britain. It is said to have been the site of the ancient British

metropolis of the powerful Cassibelanus. Perhaps few traces of its original condition are to be met with, but there are still found some remains of its ancient condition under its imperial conquerors, in small ruins of walls, tesselated pavements, and Roman coins.

Verulam flourished greatly under the Romans, from whom the inhabitants enjoyed equal rights and privileges with their own citizens. This so united them to their powerful conquerors, that Boadicea, the famous British queen of the Iceni, after having been insulted by the Roman officers, regarded the inhabitants of the city as her enemies; and, attacking it with a considerable army, her troops rased it to the foundation, making a most dreadful slaughter of the Romans and their allies: it is said that 70,000 fell a sacrifice to the revenge of this martial queen. But Suetonius Paulinus, the Roman general, returning from the conquest of the Isle of Man, with the fourteenth legion and 10,000 auxiliaries, immediately attacked the Britons, gained a complete victory, and put 80,000 to the sword, A.D. 60. After this dreadful carnage the city was rebuilt, and the Britons lived quietly under the Romans until the year A.D. 305, when the Christians were persecuted under the emperor Dioclesian.

Constantine and most of his successors professing the Gospel, Christianity is believed to have flourished at Verulam, and more especially under the Saxon conquerors of Britain, after their conversion to the faith of Christ. Many extravagant fables have been transmitted to us concerning the body of Alban, a reputed martyr in this city under the Dioclesian persecution. Among these, it is reported that Germanus, bishop of Auxerre in France, having brought over to Britain a large collection of relics of saints, is said to have opened the grave and found the corpse of Alban, A.D. 449, after he had been buried nearly a century and a half!

Offa, king of the Mercians, became a devoted supporter of popery, and a suitable instrument for the use of the priests, after his murder of Ethelred, king of the East Angles, with many of his nobles. This crime was, perhaps, unparalleled in the annals of wickedness; for Offa perpetrated the horrid deed while celebrating, at his own court, the nuptials of Ethelbert with his own daughter Adelfrida.

Stung with remorse for this atrocious deed, he vainly attempted to make expiation of his crime by conciliating the priests, who prescribed a pilgrimage to Rome, and large donations to the clergy, who

stipulated on these conditions to pray day and night for the soul of his murdered son-in-law.

Offa, in this state of mind, was led by the priests to pursue any course which they recommended, and they induced him to give to the church the tithe of all his dominions, besides a great estate in land to the cathedral of Hereford, where king Ethelred was buried. At Rome, Offa was well received by the pope, on account of his rich presents, and he being delighted with the pope's spiritual favours and his approbation of the project to found a monastery in honour of St. Alban, the king granted the tax of Peter-pence, which was a penny to be collected annually from every family within his dominions, where the rent of land amounted to thirty pence. This tax was to be collected from all estates except those belonging to the monastery of St. Alban.

Superstition and priestcraft, which governed the popish clergy in that and succeeding ages, had ample scope for their operations in the whole business of founding the monastery of St. Alban's. Fuller, in his valuable" Church History of Britain," gives the following account of this contrivance to delude the people: his quaintness of style will render it the more interesting, perhaps, to modern readers.

"King Offa having an archbishoprick at Lichfield, his next design was to enshrine the corpse of St. Alban: five hundred and seven years had passed since his death and plain burial. For as John Baptist, the last martyr before Christ, and St. Steven, the first after him, were fairly interred by their friends and followers, without any more ado, so the corpse of St. Alban was quietly committed to the earth, and there some centuries of years peacefully reposed. But now Offa, they say, was admonished in a vision, to bestow a more public sepulture upon him. A star, we know, directed to the place of Christ's birth, whereas a bright beam (say the monks) discovered the place of St. Alban's burial. A beam, suspected by some, shot by him who can turn himself into an angel of light, because gaining so much by their superstition. Then was Alban's body in pompous manner taken up, enshrined, and adored by the beholders. No wonder then if the Danes now invaded the dominions of the English, seeing the English invaded the prerogative of God, diverting the worship due to him alone, to the rotten relics of dead men. And henceforth the old Romans' city of Verulam, lost its name under the new Saxon town of St. Alban's.

"King Offa went to Rome, and there confirmed and enlarged to pope Adrian the gift of Peter-pence, what Ina, king of the West Saxons, had formerly bestowed. For this favour the pope granted him, that no Englishman for penance imposed should be banished out of his own country.

"Offa having done all this work at Rome, namely, procured the canonization of Saint Alban, the absolution of his own sins and many murders, and visited and endowed the English college there, returned home, fell to found the monastery of St. Alban, bestowing great lands and liberties upon it; as freeing it from the paying of Peter-pence, episcopal jurisdiction, and the like. Next year Offa ended his life, buried at Bedford, on that token that the river Ouse swelling on a sudden swept his corpse clean away."

Offa caused several houses to be erected near to the Abbey for the reception of strangers and travellers, as well as for the use of the servants and officers belonging to this sacred establishment; so that in process of time it increased into an immense community. In the year 1154, Nicholas, bishop of Abba, who was born near this monastery, and a benedictine monk of St. Alban's, having been chosen pope, as

sumed the name of Adrian the Fourth, granted many privileges to this abbey, causing the abbot to be the first in England both in order and dignity.

Abbots were raised to the dignity of barons in the English parliament: Henry III. summoned no less than sixty-four abbots and thirty-six priors, with the master of the temple, to parliament: but Edward III. limited their number to twenty-six: the first twelve ranked as follows, with the amount of their annual revenues at the dissolution, as given by Speed:

1. St. Alban's

£. 8. d. 2,510 6 1 3,508 13 4

1,412 4 7

4. Westminster

5. Edmundsbury

6. Petersborough..

7. Colchester

8. Evesham ...

9. Winchelcombe.

....

10. Crowland.. 11. Battle

12. Reading

...

3,977 6 4 2,336 16 0 1,972 7 0 Unknown 1,268 9 9 756 11 9 1,217 5 11 987 0 11 2,116 3 9

From these statements of the revenues of the baronial abbeys in the reign of Henry VIII., it appears that they were immensely rich, as the same estates are now worth, probably, at least twenty times the amount thus specified; and while we feel astonishment at the wealth granted by these pretended teachers of religion, we do not wonder at the whole being seized by so imperious and extravagant a prince as Henry VIII.

St. Alban's abbey church still claims particular attention for its size, beauty, and antiquity: it is constructed of Roman brick, to which age has given the appearance of stone. A stone screen erected before the communion table in 1461, is much admired for the richness and lightness of its sculpture. The tombs of the founder, king Offa, and Humphrey, "the Good," duke of Gloucester, brother to Henry V., are shewn here; and about a century ago, the leaden coffin, containing the body of the latter, was opened, and the corpse found almost entire, preserved ma kind of spirituous liquor.

St. Alban's abbey church did possess a very noble and ancient font of solid brass, given to it by Sir Richard Lea, master of the pioneers, who took it, among other plunder, out of Scotland, in the year 1543, where it had served as a font for baptising the children of the royal family, but was placed here as a common baptistry. It was, however, carried away and converted into money, during the civil wars in the reign of Charles I.

ON SUFFERINGS AND SORROWS.

IV. THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN.

My present observations will be applicable chiefly to those young persons who have resolved to take up the profession of the Gospel, and endeavour to make in the present life a suitable preparation for the future. There are indeed many, who by constant delay in attending to the invitations of their Saviour, are old in years when they are but babes in Christianity; but though they may find some of my remarks adapted to the state of their feelings, I do not intend to endeavour to make them so. Indeed I labour under the persuasion that the majority of the readers of this Magazine are youthful, and shall, therefore, be the more anxious to address them in a tone and manner which they will not be able to mistake.

Suffering then does the young Christian suffer?

Is not the youth who desires to please God free from pain? Is not the girl who endeavours to be virtuous exempt from anxiety? No. They are not-they have a great deal to undergo before they are brought to submit to Jesus Christ; and they have a great deal to undergo afterwards. I do not presume to suppose that I shall be able to describe the case of every young Christian, but I will endeavour to concentrate all my knowledge and observation for the benefit of a class of sufferers, whom I respect and love above all others in this world.

I will suppose (whatever may have been the means) that you are brought to feel that you are a sinner, and that Jesus Christ is able and willing to forgive all your sins. I apprehend this to be the first step in the Christian's course, and that in the case of most young persons, it is taken at a period when they really know nothing more of the system of religion than this-they may have heard about the duties of the Christian and felt their importance, but though they have heard discourses about the plan of salvation by Jesus Christ, hitherto they have comprehended no more than that there is a salvation suited to their wants and open to their acceptance. They resolve to accept it, and having declared this resolution in the presence of God, they try to believe that they are fully forgiven for ever. But they cannot believe it. Allow me personally to ask each of my kind young friends, do you believe that you are completely forgiven, and that there is not one moment's doubt of your security in Christ? And does this belief remove from your mind all anxiety on the subject? I apprehend few will be disposed to reply to this question with more than a hope that all is indeed well with them. Now I have nothing to do with any systems of religion, but the plain language of the Bible; and since Jesus Christ declares that all who believe have everlasting life as an immediate result of their faith, I can look upon the doubt of the youthful Christian, as nothing less than a useless and unprofitable suspicion of a fact which is as plainly revealed in the Scripture, as the sun is displayed in the natural firmament. If any one shall say that such representations as these are dangerous, and likely to excite pride and presumption, I have only to reply, that those who entertain such an opinion pretend to know human nature better than the Saviour did. I am not going to blame any of our young friends for their doubts and fears, but I can assure them they are quite unnecessary, and that all the sorrow and anxiety to which they give rise, are the discipline by which God is teaching and urging them to make those investigations into the real efficacy of the death of his Son, which will infallibly end in convincing them that Jesus Christ put away sin with all its responsibilities by the sacrifice of himself.

Again, the period at which a person comes to the determination of giving himself up entirely to the service of God, is one of the most important in his life, and it is sure to bring his mind into a state of temporary excitement. During the continuance of this feverish state of the mind, there is comparatively little difficulty in keeping down the passions of nature, and preserving a frame of (what is supposed to be) heavenly-mindedness. Soon, however, this feeling subsides, and the individual finds all his old inclinations to sin return with their wonted force. He concludes immediately that he is a backsliderthat there is no hope for him-that God has withdrawn his aid; this makes him wretched-he may think that his wretchedness is a punishment for his sins-it is no such thing-it springs entirely from ignorance, and in too many cases, it accompanies

the Christian to the grave; its object is to persuade him to learn that man is a creature of habit, and that all his exertions to correct evil habits must be slow and must be based upon the principle of acquiring contrary habits by the lingering process of repeated acts of duty. Now if our young friends will take this view of the case, although they will find ample ground for hourly penitence, for habitual humility, they will find no cause whatever for melancholy or despair, but will rather be disposed to observe and be grateful for the solid and durable progress which they will perceive that they are making.

Again, the religion of Jesus Christ is as old as the creation, is bound up with every part of sacred history, and is a system which can only be thoroughly understood after long and patient investigation. Now it will invariably happen that every young Christian belongs to some denomination of the great body of the church, and will be apt to suppose that the doctrines which are taught by his minister are alone true, and will, therefore, fear and shun fellow Christians of other denominations. I cannot reprobate this system with sufficient force and pointedness. Is Christ divided? The reply of every honest inquirer to such a question must be, Yes, into ten thousand conflicting parties. Now let me assure the youthful disciple of the Saviour, that his first step to happiness in religious profession, is to honour all men to believe that there is much to admire in every system, as well as much to condemn. I have little doubt that the arguments which result from opposite views of doctrines, are a source of bitter anxiety to most young people. This anxiety proceeds directly from God, and as he never inflicts one unnecessary pang, it is quite clear that some error needs correction. I believe this error to be a most deeply rooted one, and to consist in the manifestation of those bad feelings which almost always attend religious discussions, and I have no hesitation in urging young Christians to abstain entirely from all such debates; to search the Scriptures faithfully with the determination of believing any thing which they contain, and to direct their efforts to improve the conduct rather than the opinions of their acquaintance. If they will not listen to my advice, they will lay their aching heads upon a restless pillow, many, many a time until they are taught to imitate the example of that blessed Saviour who knew all the erroneous opinions of his enemies, but exposed none of them except those which were of a bad moral tendency.

I might go on to notice an almost endless variety of sorrows and pains which agitate the mind of the believers in Jesus. All of them proceed from some error or sin, and are designed to correct it. Even the depression of spirits which follows from the persuasion that persecution must be the lot of the Christian, is designed to awaken that reflection which will soon convince us that by far the greater part of our persecutions are our own seeking, and so far from exciting the approval of our Maker, render it needful for him to chastise us. In short, every suffering, every pang, every anxious thought, is designed to teach a specific lesson of virtue, which may be discovered and perfectly undersstood by the attentive.

1. Every young Christian has his trials. Among those which most need encouragement and consolation, are the individuals who stand alone in a family as believers in the Son of God. Neither father nor mother ever say a word to encourage the painful struggle of their child in his endeavours to be obedient; brothers and sisters are unable to enter into his feelings or pursuits, and he feels quite desolate and forsaken, surrounded by scenes which he loathes and abhors as

vicious and ungodly. I believe that many of the true disciples of the Saviour are thus circumstanced, and I have no doubt that the object of this kind of trial is to force the individual to seek more earnestly the protection and friendship of Jesus Christ. Now let me urge this duty upon all our young friends. Believe me your virtue, your usefulness, and your happiness, depend entirely upon the degree of union subsisting between you and your Saviour. It is impossible for you to believe too completely that he is interested in every thing that interests you, and is perfectly willing to take the charge and direction of every hope, and every duty of your life. So far from repining then at your apparent friendlessness, rejoice that such opportunity is afforded you of promoting your highest welfare. I delight to represent to all who desire to love Jesus Christ, that they will find him the kindest of friends; the wisest and most exalted of benefactors; the true and unfailing support of all who lean on him; and if I were called on to state shortly the object of the sufferings which Christians endure, I should say it is to make them thoroughly like Jesus Christ.

2. Allow me to caution you against one besetting error of the present day. You are young, and you are apt to be led away by the romantic; and as you contemplate the abandoned state of the world, you feel a kind of chivalrous desire to declare yourself one of the daring minority who have chosen their God and Saviour to be their king. This is not religion-"Take up your cross" is the direction of the Saviour, and it means a great deal to which we ought all to attend. It means among other things, that the followers of Jesus Christ are to make no flaming profession, that they are not pompously to maintain before the world that they are Christians, but rather to leave the world to find that out from their conduct. I know this is a very disagreeable doctrine, and one which will not meet the views of many. I know there is a very great attachment to the idea that Christians are to come out;" but I am quite certain that these crude notions are the reason why the followers of Jesus Christ exhibit so few of the glorious features of His character who went about doing good. Avoid this as you would avoid the bitterest enemy to your happiness, which will infallibly keep your standard of morals very low, very selfish, very

conceited.

Finally, I wish to persuade young Christians to be happy. I wish to induce them to give up the sources of their uneasiness, and therefore I have been plain in my address to them. But I have not been unmindful all the while of the difficulty of what I have recommended, when I consider the education and circumstances of so many of the children of God. Nor is Jesus Christ unmindful of this. Then, youthful disciple of the best of masters, believe that he has placed you in a world of suffering that he may fit you for glory, and every pain you endure, adds something to your fitness to become his servants for ever. Therefore do not let despair fix on you for a moment. No sight can be more delightful to the Saviour than that of a young person devoting all his energies in his service, and if he is satisfied with your conduct no fear need ever dwell on your mind. In this world you may be happy if you will follow out the suggestions I have made, but perhaps you will not comprehend them, or you may forget them, or even reject them with disapprobation. Still, for all this, your final and eternal happiness is secure, for no man has devoted himself to Jesus Christ in any degree, who shall not receive an adequate and eternal recompense at the resurrection of the just.

B. Z.