sincere Christian; that he always carried a Bible with him, which he used attentively to read when least liable to interruption; and that he never partook of any of his slender meals, without first taking off his hat, and imploring the blessing of Him who clotheth the lily and feedeth the young ravens, but whose especial mercies are reserved for those who put their trust in him; and who not only commands us, whether we eat or drink, or whatever we do, to do all to his glory, but encourages even the most afflicted and indigent of his faithful followers to be "careful for nothing, but in every thing with prayer and thanksgiving to let their requests be made known unto him."

This poor man's conduct was uniformly consistent with his Christian profession. Never does his protector recollect hearing an angry word, or a murmuring expression from his lips; although, in addition to his bitter poverty and privations, he was frequently tried by the impertinent curiosity and irritating remarks of persons who came into the workshop.

On receiving the communication of the foregoing particulars, I was induced to return to the poor stranger, with a view to converse with him a little. There was a peculiar bluntness in his manner of expressing himself, but it was very far removed from any thing of churlishness or incivility. All his answers were pertinent, and were sometimes given in such measured terms as quite astonished me. The following was a part of our conversation: "Well, my friend, what are you about?" Making scissors-chains, sir." "And how long does it take you to make one?" With peculiar archness he looked up in my face, and, with a complacent smile, said, "Ah! and you will next ask me, how many I make in a day; and then, what the wire costs me; and afterwards, what I sell them for." From the indirectness of his reply, I was induced to conclude that he was in the habit of making something considerable from his employment, and wished to conceal the amount of his gains. But when I became better acquainted with his manner, and found that after his utmost exertion he could scarcely obtain the meagre pittance before mentioned, I perceived that his apparent reluctance to make known his poverty proceeded from his habitual Christian contentment. How different would have been the conduct of most

persons in similar circumstances; and how eagerly would they have given a ready answer to my inquiry, in the hope of exciting compassion, and procuring assistance! I next asked him, why he followed his present vagrant life, in preference to a stationary one, in which he would be better known and more respected. "The nature of my business," he replied, "requires that I should move about from place to place, that having exhausted my custom in one spot, I may obtain employment in another. Besides," added he, "my mode of life has at least this advantage, that if I leave my friends behind me, I leave also my enemies." When I asked him his age, he replied, with a strong and firm voice, "That is a question which I am frequently asked, as if persons supposed me to be a great age: why, I am a mere boy." "A mere boy!" I repeated; " and pray what do you mean by that expression?" "I am sixty-five years of age, sir; and, with a light heel and a cheerful heart, hope to hold out a considerable time longer." Indeed, he seemed always happy even in the period of his subsequent extreme suffering, his bosom appeared scarcely sufficiently capacious for his joyful feelings. I can do but little justice to the hilarity of his heart; for it was a matter of astonishment to all who witnessed it. spring of his cheerfulness was religion. Nothing seemed to damp his confidence in God.

The

In the course of our conversation, he said, "It is not often that I am honoured with the visits of clergymen. Two, however, once came to me, and I expressed a hope that I should derive some advantage from their conversation. 'We are come,' said

they, 'with the same expectation to you; for we understand that you know many things.' I told them I feared they would be greatly disappointed." He then stated that the old scholastic question was proposed to him, "Why has God given us two ears and one mouth?" "I replied," said he, "that we may hear twice as much as we speak”— adding, with his accustomed modesty, "I should not have been able to have given an answer to this question if I had not heard it before." I should not have retailed this anecdote, but for the sake of thus incidentally illustrating the humility and absence of self-esteem which characterised this man's remarks; though, having given it, I may perhaps be allowed to add, that if the rich, whether clerical or laic, duly considered how deep an impression their most casual remarks often make on the minds of the poor, long after they are forgotten by themselves, they would be more careful than oftentimes they are that their "speech should be with grace, seasoned with salt;" and that not only no positively corrupt communication should proceed out of their mouth, but that their most transient intercourse should be, in its measure, "to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers."

Before I took my leave of him, I asked how long he intended to remain in the village. He answered, "I do not know; but as I have house-room and fire without any tax, I am quite satisfied with my situation, and only regret the trouble I am occasioning to my kind host." (To be continued.)

THE AGONY IN GETHSEMANE.* WHAT a mysterious scene of suffering is presented to our contemplation in the garden of Gethsemane ! From the chamber where our Lord had eaten the passover with his disciples, and instituted the sacramental supper, he departs from the city, and, crossing the brook Kedron, which lay to the east of Jerusalem, he entered the garden of Gethsemane. Jesus oftentimes resorted thither with his disciples for the purpose of private devotion. No sooner had our Lord entered the garden than the mysterious agony of his soul commenced: "He began to be sorrowful and very heavy, and said to his disciples, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death" (Matt. xxvi. 37, 38). Retiring to a short distance from the rest of his disciples, and charging them to "watch and pray," he took with him Peter, and James, and John, who had been witnesses of his glorious transfiguration on Tabor, that they might be the witnesses of his unparalleled sorrows. What a fearful scene of agony did they behold! There is the Son of God, prostrate on the ground, beseeching his Father, if it were possible, that the mysterious cup might pass from him; "and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling to the ground" (Luke, xxii. 44). All this is mysterious and inexplicable, if, with some, we reject the doctrine of atonement for sin by the sufferings and death of the Redeemer; seeing there is the absence, of all those causes which could have produced or justified that degree of mental agony here attributed to the Redeemer. It was not the prospect of death that so fearfully agitated the Saviour. Death can only be terrible to those who are conscious of guilt, and who are without hope. The Son of God was without sin, and he knew that his departure from

From "Passion Week," by Rev. Robert Meek. 12mo. Hatchard, 1837.

this world would be to him an entrance into, and resumption of," the glory which he had with the Father before the world was." "If," said he to his disciples, who sorrowed at the thought of his death, " ye loved me, ye would rejoice that I go unto my Father." It was not the near prospect of those indignities and cruel sufferings on which he was now about to enter which occasioned this distress. Our Lord knew from the beginning all that he should suffer; again and again had he proclaimed it to his disciples; he had hastened with joy to Jerusalem, when the time drew nigh, to meet all his sufferings: with a serene and triumphant spirit he goes forth from the garden to surrender himself into the hands of his enemies, and to be "led as a lamb to the slaughter." To suppose that the prospect of his sufferings occasioned this agony, would be to attribute to the Son of God less courage, and less of the spirit of endurance, than many martyrs have displayed who have gone to tortures and deaths, equally, and in some respects more, cruel and dreadful, with serene and triumphant souls.

The agony of Christ in Gethsemane was the agony of his soul, and must be traced to spiritual causes. Christ came to "make his soul an offering for sin" (Is. liii. 10). He endured the curse and wrath due to man's sin, to save us from both. He, as our substitute, put his soul into the soul's place of the millions whom he redcemed unto God. That satisfaction which the Redeemer made for the guilt of sinners began in blood in the garden, and was completed by the shedding of his precious blood on the cross. The wrath of God due to man's sin now seized upon the suffering nature of the Son of God. The cup which was then presented to him was full of the anger of God for man's sin, and very bitter must it have been to his holy soul to receive such a cup from his Father who loved him. His holy soul now bore the weight of human guilt, for "the Lord laid on him the iniquity of us all" (Is. liii. 6). There is reason also to believe, that at the same time the Saviour had to sustain a dreadful conflict with the powers of darkness. After the temptation in the wilderness, we read, "the devil departed from him for a season" (Luke, iv. 13); but only like an enemy baffled and discomfited, afresh to muster his forces, and watch the opportunity of making a more vigorous assault. This opportunity now presented itself: this was the hour of the power of darkness. It is probable that on this occasion the powers of darkness assailed the holy soul of the Redeemer with the most horrid temptations and blasphemies, and exercised all their might and malice to turn him from his merciful design of making himself a sacrifice for gin, and thus prevent the redemption of the world. "The sorrows of death" now "compassed him about, and the pains of hell gat hold upon him." No wonder, then, that Jesus said, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." We may judge of the magnitude and intensity of this mysterious agony of his soul, by the effect it produced on his corporeal frame,-" his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground."

How deserving of our notice and imitation is the conduct of our blessed Lord in this time of sore agony of soul! He prays to his heavenly Father; thereby instructing us by his own example in all our afflictions

to spread our sorrows before our Father who is in heaven. "Is any afflicted? let him pray." What resignation does Christ manifest in this prayer! Abba, Father; all things are possible unto thee take away this cup from me; nevertheless, not what I will, but what thou wilt." "If it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done." In thus praying that the cup of | sorrows, “ if possible," miglit pass from him, our Lord exhibited the truth of his participation of our humanity. Human nature shrinks from suffering; and there is nothing sinful in this when suffering may be lawfully avoided. It was not possible, however, that the cup should pass from Jesus: it was necessary that he should drink it, even to the dregs, in order to save us : he therefore says, "Father, not my will, but thine be done." What a pattern here of perfect resignation to the Divine will, and of the cheerful readiness of the Saviour to endure unutterable agonies of soul, rather than leave the work of our redemption unaccomplished! While we admire his resignation to his Father's will, and his devotedness to the work of our salvation, we must not overlook his compassion to the infirmities of his disciples on this occasion. He had commanded them to "watch and pray," but he returns again and again, and finds them sleeping! But yet how mildly docs he reprove, and how mercifully does he excuse, such unworthy conduct! "The spirit indeed," said Christ," is willing, but the flesh is weak." Let us be concerned to imitate our Lord in this. We may suffer from the neglect of friends; let us not impute every neglect to a want of kindness; like our great Exemplar, instead of aggravating every instance of neglect into a crime, let us speak of it with mildness, and make the most charitable excuse for that which we are unable to defend.

It is impossible to close this astonishing record of the Saviour's agony in the garden without having our minds deeply impressed with the infinite evil of sin; seeing, in order to atone for man's sin, it was necessary that the Son of God should undergo such unparalleled sufferings. The more this is considered, the more shall we apprehend the strength of the Redeemer's love to us, and of the magnitude of our obligations to him in dying for us. What force do such considerations as these give to the apostolic exhortation, "Ye are not your own; for ye are bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's!" (1 Cor. vi. 19, 20).

The Cabinet.

SURETYSHIP OF CHRIST.-Suretyship is common among the children of men. It is, when properly undertaken, an act of friendship, and a proof of love ; the effect is beneficial. The Scripture speaks of Christ's suretyship for sinners, the effect of which is everlastingly beneficial to the children of men. “ By so much was Jesus made a surety of a better testament." How solemn the engagement he entered into with his Father in the counsel of peace, which was between them both from all eternity! "He that is surety for a stranger shall smart for it." How was this fulfilled in Christ? Mankind were in a state of estrangedness from God, in consequence of the sin of man; Christ assumed human nature, and, becoming obedient unto death, paid the dreadful debt due to the law and justice

of God from sinful and sinning man. The debt discharged, the surety was released; and the debtor is set at liberty by an act of Divine grace. Are these glad tidings to such as are vile? Surely so. The grant is free; it is God's gift, held out in his word to the poor and needy, the vile and the guilty; yea, it is a full pardon of all sin, a restoration to the Divine favour, and a title to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled. But, say you, I want faith? Ask it of God, who, while he commands thee to do what he gives thee the ability to perform, assures thee he will give it. God is glorious, and I am sinful; how can I speak to him? He is infinitely great and glorious, and fearful in holiness, and I am polluted and vile,--what can I do? Follow the counsel he condescends to give you: "Take with you words, and turn unto the Lord: say unto him, Take away all iniquity, and receive us graciously so will we render the calves of our lips."Rev. J. W. Peers.

PRAISE. There is nothing easier than to persuade men well of themselves. When a man's self-love meets with another's flattery, it is an high praise that will not be believed.-Bishop Hall.

THE DYING CHRISTIAN.-O how refreshing, delightful, encouraging, to us, on our way to Zion, to perceive around us those who are "living unto the Lord," with their eyes and hearts fixed upon the heavenly inheritance. And O still happier sight, and yet an awful rejoicing, to behold a brother "dying unto the Lord;" to witness the triumph of our holy faith in nature's last hour and Satan's last buffeting; to observe the trephies of Divine love adorning and cheering the melancholy bed-the tranquil smile, the unwearied trust, the patient, contented, thankful resignation; the uplifted hand and eye, the illuminated countesance, the peaceful spirit all the while ready to wing its flight. Go, boastful science! go, vain philosophy! and visit the death-beds of your votaries; mark well the doubts and fears betraying themselves under the mask of a bold profession; mark the impatience and vexation; the present burden and the miserable foreboding; ; go and discover your infidel champions, the proud Goliaths of your kingdom, trembling and quailing under the lifted stroke of death; and despairing under the load of unforgiven sin, under the terrors of an insulted and avenging God. Go to your despisers of the crucified Jesus, to those who have been too wise to seek or too busy to find him; see them, as I have seen, stretching out their hands in agony, and saying, "Is there none to save a fellow-creature from destruction?" Then, when ye are sickened with such scenes, repair to the bedside of a departing saint, and see how a Christian can die. Go and study a lesson, more instructive and more precious than all your pages of human lore and learning; go, and learn from a lovely example, how to live and how to die.-Rev. J. Slade's Sermon on the death of the Rev. W. Thistlethwaite.

SATAN'S INFLUENCE IN THE WORLD.-No human being is born into the world, however illustrious his lineage, or elevated his rank, or splendid his attainments, over whom, until a mightier power shall break the chain, Satan does not exercise a tyranny the most despotic.-Buddicom's Christian Exodus.

KNOWING WELL IS BETTER THAN KNOWING MUCH.In conversation seck not so much either to vent thy knowledge, or to increase it, as to know more spirtually and effectually what thou dost know. And in

this

way those despised truths, that every one thinks Le is sufficiently seen in, will have a new sweetness and use in them, which thou didst not so well perceive before (for these flowers cannot be sucked dry), and in this humble, sincere way thou shalt grow in grace, and in knowledge too.--Abp. Leighton.

PEACE. That peace which is the special prerogative of God's faithful children, has its sources in look

ing at all events beyond the cloud of second causes, and penetrating, by the eye of faith, the region above, where Jehovah sits on his throne of glory, ruling and controlling in infinite wisdom and goodness all the affairs of this nether world.-Rev. W. Scoresby.

Poetry. RESIGNATION.*

"Then said Jesus unto Peter, Put up thy sword into the sheath:
the
cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it ?"
John, xviii. 11.

THE Cup is bitter-change it not,
O Lord, to suit my pamper'd taste!
I'll yield to thee, whate'er my lot,
So thou unto my soul make haste.
The cup is bitter-but far worse

The cup which thou didst drink for me,
When, bearing fallen nature's curse,

Thou diedst to set lost sinners free.
The cup is bitter-every drop

My past transgressions have deserv'd;
My mouth submissively I'll stop,
And hope by thee to be preserv'd.
The cup is bitter-'tis design'd

To heal the sickness of my soul;
I'll bear its purpose in my mind,
'Twill sorrow's raging flood control.
O thou, who didst ascend to heaven,
By meekly suffering here below,—
Jesus, to us may grace be given,
Like thee, to drink the cup of woe.

"GOD IS LOVE."-1 John, iv. 8. (For the Church of England Magazine.) YES, God is love! This truth divine

Meets the glad ear in every sound; Where'er we turn, we see it shine,

Inscribed in brightness all around. We feel it in the breath of morn, We hear it midst the hush of even ; 'Tis spangled on the dewy lawn, 'Tis blazon'd in the starry heaven. We trace it in each lovely flower,

Of grateful scent or radiant hue; In each bright beam and genial shower, That nature's faded charms renew; 'Tis warbled in the leafy shade, 'Tis echo'd from the breezy hill; It smiles in ev'ry verdant glade,

And sparkles in the crystal rill. And whence those treasures of the mind, Which science from her store imparts? Whence ev'ry tender "tie that binds "In union sweet according hearts?" And whence devotion's hallow'd fire, The bliss we share with saints above, Each gen'rous thought, each pure desire,

But from the same rich fount of love?

• From "Verses for the Day of Darkness," and other Poems, by the Rev. James Lawson, M.A., Vicar of Buckminster, Leicestershire. London, Fellowes. 1838.

Sweet hour! that bids the labourer cease;

That gives the weary team release,

And leads them home, and crowns them there
With rest and shelter, food and care.

O season of soft sounds and hues,
Of twilight walks among the dews,
Of feelings calm, and converse sweet,
And thoughts too shadowy to repeat !
Yes, lovely hour! thou art the time
When feelings flow and wishes climb;
When timid souls begin to dare,
And God receives and answers prayer.
Then, trembling, through the dewy skies
Look out the stars, like thoughtful eyes
Of angels, calm reclining there,
And gazing on the world of care.

Sweet hour! for heavenly musing made,
When Isaac walk'd and Daniel pray'd;
When Abram's offering God did own;
And Jesus lov'd to be alone.

REV. H. F. LYTE.

Miscellaneous.

PASSION WEEK.-This week was by some looked upon as a distinct time of fasting from the foregoing Lent, and as instituted upon different accounts; that being observed in imitation of our Saviour's fasting; this in commemoration of his sufferings and passion, which he then completed. But by others it was only accounted a continuation of the same fast, in a stricter degree; it being generally called the Great Week, because in this week was transacted an affair of the greatest importance to the happiness of man, and actions truly great were performed to secure his salvation; death was conquered, the devil's tyranny was abolished, the partition wall betwixt Jew and Gentile was broken down, and God and man were reconciled. It was also called the Holy Week, from those devout exercises which Christians employed themselves in upon this occasion. They applied themselves to

both in public and private, to hearing and readprayer ing God's holy word, and exercising a most solemn repentance for those sins which crucified the Lord of life. The Church of England uses all the means she can to retain this decent and pious custom, and hath made sufficient provision for the exercise of the devotion of her menibers in public, calling us every day this week to meditate upon our Lord's sufferings, and collecting in the lessons, epistles, and gospels, most of those portions of Scripture which relate to this tragical subject, to increase our humiliation by the consi

deration of the Saviour's; to the end that with peni tent hearts and firm resolution of dying likewise to sin, we may attend our Saviour through the several stages of this bitter passion.-Wheatly on the Common Prayer. MENTAL EXCITEMENT. So long as excessive mental excitement is kept up, but little relief can be obtained from the strictest attention to dietetics. Abstinence from mental toil, cheerful company, a country excursion, and relaxation of mind, will soon accomplish a cure, where all the dietetic precepts and medicines in the world would prove inefficacious.Curtis on Health.

JEWS IN TURKEY.-Jews and Armenians compose an important portion of the population of Constantinople. The stain of obloquy which still clings to the obdurate Israelites is not imperceptible in Turkey. They are indeed not only exposed to the contempt and ill treatment of the Turks, but also to that of the Christians residing here. Opprobrious names are used even by boys towards the Hebrews, any of whom are ill advised in shewing themselves in the Christian quarters of the city, especially during Easter. The hatred against them has, if possible, increased since the time of the Christian insurrection, when the Greek patriarch and other priests were murdered-in which terrific scenes the Jews distinguished themselves, both by their treachery, and by the revolting pleasure they appeared to take in the bloodshed thence accruing. No Jew is permitted to pass directly to the Mahomedan faith; it being insisted on, that he first embraces Christianity by baptism, which is held to wash away, as it were, the unpardonable stain of Judaism.-Ion Tietz.

64

FEMALE INFANTICIDE IN CHINA.-A man came for medicine to-day, with whom I conversed a while privately. I asked him how long he had left China, and whether he ever thought upon his family there? He said he frequently thought on them, and intended next year to return and visit them, for he had three sons and one daughter, who was married. "I had another daughter," he added, "but I did not bring her up." "Not bring her up?" said I; "what did you then do with her?" "I smothered her," said he: "this year also I heard by letter that another daughter was born; I sent word to have that smothered also; but the mother has preserved it alive." I was shocked at this speech, and still more at the horrid indifference with which he uttered it. "What!" said I, "murder your own children? Do you not shudder at such an act?" Oh, no," said he, "it is a very common thing in China; we put the female children out of the way to save the trouble of bringing them up; some people have smothered five or six daughters." My horror was increased by his continued indifference, and the lightness with which such crimes are perpetrated in China with impunity, which must be the case when they are related without fear of detection as the common occurrences of life. I felt I had a murderer by my side, who must, without repentance, inevitably perish. I told him plainly, that he had committed a most dreadful sin, and that he was in danger of eternal wrath. Though I said this with the greatest seriousness and earnestness, at first he only laughed, and it was some time before he would acknowledge that he had done wrong; however, afterwards he seemed to feel a little concerned, and, I hope, affected. What an awful view does this present of the "celestial empire," loaded with crime, deluged with blood, and ripe

for destruction!-Medhurst's Journal.

LONDON:-Published by JAMES BURNS, 17 Portman Street, Portman Square; W. EDWARDS, 12 Ave-Maria Lane, St. Paul's; and to be procured, by order, of all Booksellers in Town and Country.

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ON THE PRESENCE OF ANGELS. BY THE REV. JOHN NORMAN PEARSON, M.A. Principal of the Church Missionary Institution, and Evening Lecturer of St. Mary, Islington.

Ir may be questioned whether the current opinion respecting the residence of angels, the opinion, I mean, of its vast remoteness from the earth,-has a solid foundation to rest upon; and whether a doctrine far more delightful to the religious mind be not also more in unison with philosophy and with the Bible. On a subject which can only be learnt from revelation, and on which nothing explicit has been revealed, though here and there a gleam of scriptural light is cast upon it, it becomes us to offer our conjectures with religious modesty and diffidence. A peremptory dogmatism, always offensive, borders on impiety when indulged on themes of such high import as this. But it is not improper, I conceive, but rather commendable, to bring our own minds, and the minds of others, into contact with beings of an order much superior to ours, by reverently collecting from the scattered notices which are furnished by inspired pens such a history of their character and properties, their state and occupation, as may be framed without any strained or fanciful interpretation of the sacred record. By the contemplation of these high topics the mind will be refined; it will be raised above the common businesses of life to sublime walks of thought and speculation, and will be helped to maintain a spiritual tone, and a holy intercourse with heaven.

Pursuing this cautious track of investigation, I have been led to conclude, from several

VOL. IV. NO. XCIX.

PRICE 1d.

passages of Scripture in which angels are produced as agents in one transaction or other on the theatre of this world, that our vicinity to their abode is far closer than is generally suspected. Indeed, our nurserylessons, for the most part, lead us to think of heaven as of a place immensely remote, divided from our globe by an interval which none but pinions of prodigious force could traverse in almost any conceivable time. And this undoubtedly may be the case. It is nowise impossible that the seraph's wing should be endued with a velocity immeasurably exceeding that of sound, or even of light. It is not incredible that God's immediate servants, being qualified by their make and constitution to pass, with a celerity that mocks at space and time, from one point to another, should have their dwelling-place at so immense a distance from our system, that in comparison with it the furthest star were less than a day's journey. In this supposition there is a grandeur of which the sublimest poet of Greece has known how to avail himself. And, doubtless, a religious sentiment has accredited the tenet, that a huge gulf separated heaven and earth a gulf proportioned to the moral distance at which holy spirits stand from creatures so corrupt and degraded as we are.

Nevertheless, I must confess myself unable to perceive that any such local distance from this world is necessary to constitute a region of purity and joy. If God is always in the full enjoyment of his own perfect holiness and bliss, although he is essentially present in every part of the universe,-in the haunts of profligacy, in the charnel-house of corruption, and even in the abyss of penal fire,