Page images
PDF
EPUB
[blocks in formation]

cherous to their enemies, and thankless to their benefactors. Eight cases of poisoning have fallen under my observation already-five of these victims; and in every case the fatal dose did its deadly business within eight-and-forty hours, but in most instances in twelve. The nature of the poison I cannot speak of with certainty; from its being tasteless in the coffee, which is commonly made its vehicle, it can neither be opium nor corrosive sublimate; but, from the symptoms it produces, I believe it to be arsenic.

"Of all things in Turkey, human life is of the least value, and of all the roads to honour and ambition, murder is deemed the most secure. I sat beside a Candiote Turk at dinner, who boasted of having killed eleven men in cold blood; and the society of this assassin was courted by the cousin of the Reis Effendi, at whose house I met him, because he was a man of courage.' A rich Ulema, a man of the law and of religion, proposed sending for one of the Jewish women who, followed the avocation of infanticide, and who are consulted, not only by the Turks, but also I of by the most respectable Levantines. course declined a consultation with a privileged murderess, and represented the evil consequences arising from such practices. *

**

"The Turks are generally considered to be more honest than the Greeks, and in point of fact they are, or at least appear so. They are certainly less mendacious, and are too clumsy to practise chicanery to advantage. Their probity, however, depends not on any moral repugnance to deceit, but solely on the want of talent to deceive. I never found a Turk who kept his word when it was his interest to break it; but then I never knew a Greek who was not unnecessarily and habitually a liar. He is subtle in spirit, insidious in discourse, plausible in his manner, and indefatigable in dishonesty: he is an accomplished scoundrel; and beside him the Turk, with all the desire to defraud, is so gauche in knavery, that to avoid detection he is constrained to be honest.

WESLEYAN METHODIST CONFERENCE.

832

and forty have been added to the list-that the utmost harmony has prevailed throughout their deliberations-and that ample accommodations were provided for them by their numerous friends in Sheffield.

POETRY.

"THE CLOUDS RETURN AFTER THE RAIN."-SOLOMON.

How soon do we outlive our blossoming prime,
When health glides through every vein,
No sooner to manhood's meridian we climb,
Than we fade, and we bleach, by the action of
time,

And the music of fancy becomes a dull chime,
"For the clouds return after the rain."

Age comes! glossy ringlets, and roseate hue,
At once he expels from his train;

Whatever was sprightly when life was but new, And youth was all freshness with morningtide dew,

Has past like a vision that fits from the view,
"And clouds return after the rain."

The heyday of mortals is over apace,
Youth, beauty, bloom, vigour, all wane,
The nerves are relax'd, and care wrinkles the face,
And happy is he who can finish his race,
With the eye of his mind fix'd on glory and grace,
"Though the clouds return after the rain."

The dance and the viol, the lute and the song,
Are tasteless, insipid, and vain ;

Nought pleases him now, that delighted when

young,

The heart's living lyre is by sorrow unstrung,
All broken his spirit, and silent his tongue,
"For clouds return after the rain."

The days of his childhood were sunny and bright,
But none can recall them again;
And now 'tis short daylight, and tedious night,
Time's visions of beauty have vanish'd from sight,
And left not a trace of their footsteps in flight,
"While the clouds return after the rain."

Spring covers the earth with an emerald vest,
Which Flora enamels in vain ;

The winter of snow has frosted his breast,
His breathing is short, and his sleep much op-
press'd

By a stitch in his side, or a pain in his chest,
For clouds return after the rain."

And let them return! Christ is able to save,
Though flesh, strength, and nature decay;
My hope in his love shall the winter storm brave,
He'll guide my lone bark as I pass the dark wave,
And rising to bliss as I sink in the grave,
I shall live through eternity's day.

JOSHUA MARSDEN.

STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF MISS H-GWho died 11th September, 1827, in the 22d year of her age.

"I pass'd by the burying place, and wept sorely, To think how many of my friends were in the man

sions of the dead,

FROM the annual meeting of the preachers
belonging to this body, held this year in
Sheffield, we learn-that between three and
four hundred were present-that about five
thousand members have been added to their
societies during the year-that twenty-four In vain do I vow that my muse never more
preachers have died—that many have retired
from the work, and that between thirty

And in an agony of grief I cried out, Where are
they ?'

And Echo gave answer and said, 'Where are they?"" KHOSROO.

Shall fix her abode in the tomb ; In vain I entreat her to cease to explore That realm of impervious gloom :

833

In vain I entreat her to nature's gay plains,

Poetry.

Or indulge contemplation in some lonely glade, Or range through Elysium, where spring ever reigns,

Where verdure and flowrets immortal ne'er fade,
In that region which death never dares to invade.

More pleasing to her in the deep shades of night,
To roam through the dreary church-yard;
To weep o'er the vanquish'd, once strong in his
might,

Or mourn the unfortunate bard:

Cut off in his bloom, in full vigour of health, Whom the Nine vainly strove from death's poniard to save ;

The elegy mourns for no statesman of wealth,
This strain sorrows not for the fall of the brave,
But beauty's untimely descent to the grave.

It is not for beauty alone that I sigh,

Too early consign'd to her urn; For time will soon rob of its lustre the eye, And dust unto dust must return: When charms intellectual with beauty combine, And sweet sensibilities govern the breast, When in one every virtue conspires to shine,

What heart can forbear to deplore the behest, That calls her away to the seats of the blest?

When Aurora is seen from her slumbers to rise, And her vestment begins to unfold;

And the lamp of her brightness displays in the skies,

Richly streak'd with ethereal gold:

When the bright sparkling dewdrop is seen on the trees,

And the birds sweetly sing in ambrosial bowers ; And the gay winged butterfly sports in the breeze, 'Tis an emblem, sweet maid, of thy youth's cheerful bours,

And the pleasures that bèam'd on thy infantile powers.

"Tis past-and thy morn of existence is fled,

And drear is the once lovely scene;

And the rays of bright prospects that play'd round thy head,

Seem to thee as they never had been.

Not a shade of thy beauties now lingers behind, Save thy virtues which live in the hearts of thy friends,

Remembrance shall cherish thy worth in their mind, While reason her aid to mortality lends,

And each in his turn to death's region descends.

Each grace unaffected warm fancy shall paint,
While the tongue of affection sincere,
Shall dwell on thy wit with a smile and a plaint,
Though that smile must be "dash'd with a
tear."

Thy friend, gentle Hannah, the friend of thy choice,
Wisely taught by that cheering example of thine,
Shall muse on the last sad adieu from thy voice,
And thy kind admonitions in accents benign,
Like thee will submit to the fiat divine.

Dear Hannah, thy friends with regret give thee up,
To the cold cheerless pillow of earth;
But their grief is allay'd by a scriptural hope,
That thy beauties will find a new birth.
As the germ of the grain is preserv'd in the dust,
Till it springs forth to view a ripe beautiful ear,
So, Hannah, shall rest thy remains with the just,
In a form like thy Lord's, thou with him shalt

[blocks in formation]

"THEY ARE AS A SLEEP."
(Psalm xc. 5.)

A WAVE, a breath, a tale that's told,
A cygnet's song, a swallow's flight,
A bubble cast in beauty's mould,

A shade, a storm-encompass'd light,
Is human life; and, laugh or weep,
"A thousand years are but a sleep."
Ah! who will triumph, who will mourn,
To hear this woeful, welcome truth;
That swift as morning's glad return,

And short as the full rest of youth, Eternity on time will break,

And all from life's brief slumber wake? Art thou not glad, O widow'd wife,

834

O childless mother, sad and lone? Wouldst thou not fain escape from life, And join thine heart beneath that stone? Death has already broke thy sleep, And waked thee up to watch and weep,

Not so that fair sun-featured boy,

His are the hopes of life's young dream; He feeds upon foretasted joy,

He basks in summer's brightest beam. But he must wake, and waking find, The vision gone, a cheated mind.

And what of him, whose shaking head Bears, thinly strewn, the flowers of age? Is be not of the living-dead,

The Crusoe of the tempest's rage? Ah! one may live till life's distress, And sleep till sleep is weariness.

But there be those whom guilty fears,

Like nightmare visions, early woke ;
Again they slept, and in their ears,

Unheard, a voice of thunder spoke.
And on their eyes, unseen, unfelt,
A flame, like forked lightning, dwelt.

It was the voice which spoke to Paul,
It was the light that flash'd on him,
The voice and light that visit all;
But these have drunk, charged to the brim,
The cup of wrath, that opiate deep:
Ah! life may be a dreadful sleep.

TO A LADY,

[ocr errors]

J. M. H:

Upon seeing the first and only Production of her Muse, and hearing she had intimated her intention to write no more.

O LADY! Sweep again the lyre,

(Whose thrilling notes will peace inspire,)
Which piety has strung:

Till sounds are heard, as sweet as those
Which 'bove the fanes of Jebus rose,

By monarch minstrel sung.,

Ah, wherefore thus its magic try,
Then throw the harp neglected by,
When only once its sound
Beneath your skilful hand has spoke,
In soul-arousing strains, and broke
The gloom which hung around.

Again resume, with magic spell,
The harp already touch'd so well,
The pleasing task pursue:
Again pour forth, in sacred lays,
The mingled notes of pray'r and praise,
Which please and profit too.

O lady, sweep again the lyre,
Nor quench at once the kindling fire,
Which in your bosom glows:
To Him devote the talent giv'n,
By turning wand'ring souls to heav'n,
From whom the spirit flows.

[blocks in formation]

835

Review. The Church in Danger from Herself.

THE JOYS OF CHILDHOOD.
How sweet, when childhood's prattling bliss
Unfolds a thousand lovely charms;
To meet the soft maternal kiss,
When circled in a mother's arms.
How sweet it is in those young days,
When beauty, budding as a rose;
Receives a mother's partial praise,

That from affection's fountain flows.
How sweet when actions infantile,
The heart of innocence declare;
To gain a inother's beamy smile,

A smile the darling loves to share.
How sweet it is when sorrows rise,

And thoughts their struggling troubles bear; To see reflected in those eyes, A mother's sympathizing care, How sweet in every pang to know, Where'er the tender frame shall rove; There is a heart to feel its wo, There is a mother's sacred love. Beaconsfield.

J. A. B.

A PORTRAIT OF THE DEAD.

Her eyes were like "Forget me not,"
As blue as is that lovely flower,
Mild as the mildest summer's eve,
Making love spring, as April's shower
Awakens Flora : yes, believe,
Her eyes' expression ne'er can be forgot.
Her face was worthy of such eyes,

"Twas form'd in beauty's happiest mould,
"Twas all that fancy's pencil paints,
All that e'er poet thought or told,

More beauteous far than Guido's saints, Too fair for earth, 'twas formed to grace the skies.

Her form gave every eye delight,

Once seen, though but for once, beloved,
Her every gesture shewed a grace,
Easy as if in courts she'd moved,

Her form was worthy of her face,

With Hebe's freshness blest, yet sylph-like light.

We heard sweet music when she spoke,

As if 'twere zephyr's gentlest note;

We scarcely breathed to list' her breath, And yet rebuke from her deep smote, Offending her was worse than death, Who knew her best, most loved, most blest love's yoke.

Her mind was stored with richest lore,

The wisdom taught by heavenly means,
The wisdom given from above,

To blanch as snow sin's foulest stains,
Teaching the promise true of love,
And joy when earth and time shall be no more.

Her heart, her soul, were fit for heaven,
For each was what it seemed to be,
With angel person, angel mind,
O God! how dear she was to me,

The loveliest flower of loveliest kind,
The best, the dearest gift to man ere given.
Death hath now closed that brilliant eye,

That face bath lost its youthful bloom,
That graceful form will move no more,
That tongue is silent in the tomb,

That mind's illumination's o'er,

That soul-but that not death can e'er destroy.

But what am I? I must repine,

For once the angel was mine own!
Oft have I seen her heavenly smile,
As if on me her life were grown,
Now, 'tis felicity's recoil,

Of all bereft. No! in heaven she's still mine.

A.

836

REVIEW-The Church in Danger from

Herself. By the Rev. J. Acaster, Vicar
of St. Helen's, York, and Domestic
Chaplain to the Right Hon. the Earl of
Mexborough. 8vo. pp. 176. Seeley and
Sons, London.

THE Common cry of "The church is in danger," strongly reminds us of the fable, in which a roguish shepherd boy is represented, reiterating the cry "The wolf is among the sheep," and imposing upon his neighbours, so that when the wolf had actually got among them, they would not believe him. Sacheverel cried that it was in danger from the act of toleration; Dauberry, that it was in danger from evangelical preaching; Simpson, that it was in danger from the expense of washing sur. plices; Norris, that it was in danger from the Bible Society; and Thomas, that it was in danger from the Church Missionary Society; and as we have perceived no danger attending all these alleged mischievous things, we are apt to be sceptical when Mr. Acaster cries, that she is "in danger from herself." Yet we ought not to stop our ears against his alarm. Neither should those who have the power of keeping her from danger be indifferent. She is now so closely cooped up, that unless she act vigorously on the defensive, the contest will be doubtful. Her bulwarks are thrown down by those who were voluntarily sworn to defend them, though the citadel remains uninjured, and will continue impregnable, if those within it remain true and firm at their posts. The present volume is an honest and unadorned remonstrance with her rulers, suited to the present crisis. It is divided into four chapters.

1. The necessity of a church establishment to maintain and perpetuate the Christian religion through successive generations, and to meet the religious wants of the nation.

II. The church of England, as by law established, is, if properly and efficiently administered, peculiarly adapted to maintain and perpetuate the Christian religion, and to meet in every way the spiritual wants of the nation.

III. Deviations from the adjustments and regulations of the founders of the church, the cause of her present inefficiency, and of dissent throughout the land.

IV. Necessity of returning to the original intentions of the founders of the church, with regard to all the plans which they devised, and the regulations they adopted; in order to render her efficient for the pur

837

Review. The Church in Danger from Herself.

pose intended; to regain the confidence of the people; and to preserve her in existence. Of the first, little need be said, except that it is defective in pleading the cause of religious establishments. But the author is certainly excusable, as his book is professedly written to point out the abuses of our present established church. He has acted prudently in adopting the present plan. By it he will prevent his antagonists from holding him as an enemy to establishments, and of course he could not be an impartial judge in the business.

To those of our readers who wish to make themselves master of the general arguments on the behalf of religious establishments, we recommend them to peruse "Wilke's Essay on the Necessity of a Church Establishment in a Christian Country;" and on behalf of the church of Eng land in particular, "Jewel's Apology,' "Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity," and "The Claims of the Established Church" by a Layman.

[ocr errors]

In the second chapter, the author is decidedly of opinion, that if the church of England were properly and efficaciously administered, she would perpetuate the true religion, and supply the spiritual wants of the people. Though this position has been disputed inch by inch by some rigid dissenters, yet the more temperate of them say, "If we must have an established church, let the present continue, on account of its moderation."

The great majority of Wesleyan Methodists go much farther, as they do not object to attend upon her services, when they can hear the gospel preached in simplicity. In numerous instances they avoid having their own services in church hours, and in very many of their chapels her liturgy is regularly used. That there is a disposition among the people to attend the services of the church, is evident from this circumstance, when the pulpit is against the reading desk, they leave, but when a consistent minister succeeds, and invites them, the scattered flock returns.

These services would be still more attractive, if that for the morning were divided into two, according to their original design, and as they are still performed in Worcester cathedral. This would prevent repetitions, keep up the attention of the audience, and not fatigue the officiating minister before he commenced his sermon. In addition to this, a parish priest's exhortations and preaching ought not to be limited to this church; when occasion required, he ought to be encouraged in going out to the highways, and hedges, to barns, and cot

838

tages. This plan of beating the bushes, has wisely been adopted by the Irish prelates. Success in doing good will prove the correctness of their views. Yet in this age of novelties, speculation, excitement, and inconsistency, there will be seceders from the best-ordered establishment under heaven. Human nature is given to change. The same aching void which stimulated the Athenians to pursue the τι καῖνον, is powerfully operating among ourselves; and there is scarcely a sect of religionists, but what is reduced to fractions.

On advancing to the third position of our author, we feel that we are walking upon moving ground.

Incedis per ignes Suppositos cineri doloso. Mr. Acaster must be a man of piety, observation, courage, and independence, to venture upon such an overawing undertaking. And good mother church ought to be proud of such a son, who will hazard all his prospects for her sake. Like his elder brother Hooker, he comes honestly forward to shew, that some of her own offspring have done her a material injury. We, therefore, advise his brethren not to use vituperation, but to reform; not to view him as an arrogating brother, but as a faithful monitor; not as an enthusiastical alarmist, but as a reasonable rectifier of abuses.

That the church of England contains within herself some destructive elements, at present cannot be denied. Some timeserving bishops, worthless patrons, and avaricious incumbents, are found within her pale. Ignorance and bigotry are the only prominent features to be seen in a few of her efficient members. Yet these are not her legitimate offspring, but a foundling breed, which has been fostered by an excess of charity. All human establishments are liable to the same impositions. The same accusations have been brought against the churches of Scotland, Switzerland, and the reformed states upon the continent. But these abuses have been much more than counterbalanced by the advantages which society has derived from Christian establishments. The numerous Christian institutions which signalize the present age, are patronized and animated by dukes, earls, lords, admirals, bishops, and deans, that have been bred and tutored within the sacred precincts of the Anglican church.

In the last chapter of Mr. Acaster's book, he shews the “necessity of returning to the original intentions of the founders of the church," &c. Here he proposes no | innovation, but simply a returning to th

839

Review.-Clouds and Sunshine.

original constitution of the church. He follows Hooker as his elder brother in the business, and shews that there ought to be reform in the admission of candidates for holy orders. Yet in the present advanced state of society, we think that some improvement ought to be made in the original. Elocution ought to be more attended to, as a requisite in candidates. And the right reverend bench may take a hint from the mode of admission among their dissenting and Wesleyan brethren, as they admit none to the work of the ministry till a satisfactory specimen of their capacity for public speaking shall have been exhibited.

Fas est ab hoste doceri.

To those who are employed in the admission of candidates for ordination, we beg leave to recommend a perusal of the mode and manner in which bishops Bull and Wilson treated their candidates.

With regard to the reform proposed in archdeaconal visitations, and the duties of churchwardens, we give our hearty amen. The former has certainly dwindled into an unmeaning meeting, except that of a good dinner; and the latter serve their office with so much laxity, that the majority of them are guilty of a species of perjury.

The subject of pluralities has been a source of complaint for ages, without any decisive remedy having been applied. And if the report which we have heard be correct, that some of our prelates are trying a corrective, by commencing with curates, and the incumbents of small livings, they have begun at the wrong end. They are skimming over, instead of probing.

There is also a complaint of want of union in the church. There never was a period in which union was so necessary as the present. Radicals and ultra-dissenters, Socinians and Papists, infidels and fanatics, are leagued against her. Her safety consists in a union of scriptural doctrines, accompanied with a holy emulation to promote the eternal interests of those within her pale; a union of zeal, in training up her youth in the ways of the Lord, and in circulating the holy Scriptures among the unenlightened; a union of effort, in sending her heralds among the heathen; and a union in prayer for the divine influence on all her counsels, and that the Almighty would "send down upon her bishops and curates, and all congregations committed to their charge, the healthful Spirit of his grace," then we venture to predict, that no weapon formed against her shall prosper, and that all our author's prognostics will be vox et præterea nihil.

840

REVIEW.-Clouds and Sunshine. 8vo. pp. 334. Maunder. London. IN too many instances, the manner in which literature accommodates itself to public taste, is to be lamented as a serious misfortune. A depraved appetite is frequently craving for unwholesome food, and those who are governed by pecuniary interest rather than moral principle, are always ready to administer to its wants. Hence, the evil gathers strength from the indulgence which it receives, time confirms the disease, and at length the malady. becomes incurable. There can be little doubt, that, while literature has thus been prostituted to meet the demands of a corrupted age, the claims made upon its productions have greatly tended to pollute its character. The influence has perhaps been mutual; both verging to deterioration; each lamenting the mischief produced by the other; yet reciprocally co-operating to increase and perpetuate the evils deplored.

It is, however, with much pleasure we can state, that the remarks contained in the preceding paragraph, are by no means applicable to the volume before us. The author aims to furnish amusement to his readers, but in quest of subjects, he never extends his excursions beyond the pale of virtue, nor contaminates her sacred atmosphere by an illicit introduction of unhallowed articles. Disdaining to carry on a contraband traffic under her colours, his pages will bear the most rigid scrutiny, and in what respect soever they may be otherwise found defective, no one will be able justly to charge them with a want of moral purity.

The Gipsy Girl, Religious Offices, Enthusiasm, Romanism, Rashness, De Laurence, and an Appendix, are the titles of the articles which fill this volume. Each of these has a distinct character of its own, independently of the general bearing of the whole; but our remarks, when separately applied, must be confined within narrow limits.

Maria Pedley, the gipsy girl, had been removed when young to the house of a friend residing near London. During her abode here, her mind received much cultivation; but her friend dying, at the age of eighteen she was removed back to her original cottage, where her time was passed away in innocent simplicity. A neighbouring gentleman named Fairfax, hearing her sing, found means to have an interview, when, being captivated with her charms, he offered her his hand in ma riage.

This was accepted, on condition

« PreviousContinue »