The Life of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. From the Latin of St. Bonaventure. Newly translated for the use of the Members of the Church of England. London: Toovey, 1844. Pp. 282.

On Holy Virginity; with a brief account of the Life of St. Ambrose, (from whom the tract is derived,) by A. J. CHRISTIE, M.A., Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford. Oxford; Parker: London; Toovey. 1844. Pp. 64. WE doubt not, but are fully assured, that "not any one" of the divines of our Church, from Jewell to Atterbury, whom Mr. Cattermole has commemorated in the work just noticed, nor any one" of their contemporaries, would have been willing to be the means of putting forth either of the publications specified above. The first is prefaced by an introduction, advocating in an extraordinary manner, the "Divine gift of Imagination," by which "the Seraphic Doctor" supplies so many additional incidents to the Gospel history, not merely as by a sort of poetic licence, or allowable conjecture of devout contemplation, but as circumstances which we ought almost to receive as matters of revelation, and objects of faith. We do not think it "credible," that " points other than those expressly recorded in Scripture, though illustrative of them, should have been even supernaturally imparted to men of mortified lives, such as our author (Bonaventure)." If we do not limit our faith to that only which is written, we can never be sure to what amount of error and false doctrine the accumulating mass of tradition may grow. We deny not that the " habitual and reverential study of Holy Scripture, such as we know that men like St Bernard, or St. Bonaventure, practised, will be allowed to give them, and such as they, a strong claim upon our respectful hearing.” But when this is further claimed in any views which they may have propounded upon the hidden meanings of the inspired text, or the probable, though unrecorded, words and actions of Him, who, as we know, both said and did more than the very world itself could contain, besides all which we have been expressly told in Scripture concerning Him,— regard for the integrity and purity of the faith ought to put us on our guard against the visions of Bernard and Bonaventure, as well as against the equally unauthorized ones of Jacob Behmen, or Emmanuel Swedenborg. Mr. Oakley dwells in his preface on many of these conjectural points in our Lord's history; and especially on two, neither of which, surely, we have any just ground for believing; namely, that immediately after his resurrection our Lord appeared to his MOTHER, and then to the other Maries, then to "James the Less," and Peter; then returned to the Paradise of delights in which he had just before placed the "Holy Fathers, to announce his resurrection to them," and then joins the disciples on their way to Emmaus. The reflections on such conjectural incidents may be pious, and well-intentioned, and impressive, but they are not duly authorized, necessary, or safe. And again, without respect and even reference for the memory of Ambrose, we may venture to pause, before we think that his Scriptural and other arguments for Holy Virginity are conclusive either on the understanding or the conscience. But when we see the manner in which both these Editors speak of our own Church, and of that of Rome; when we see the things for which they sigh, and the absence of which they lament; when we observe that their whole phraseology savours of Rome, and of the doctrines, principles, and practices, which we abandoned at the Reformation as neither scriptural, nor primitive, nor catholic; we must, in our turn, lament that those have risen up, who are putting forth a succession of such publications as these, calculated justly, but in a manner uncalled for and injurious, to "unsettle" and "startle” the minds of Reformed Catholics. And yet it is confessed by these parties that much which they would, for themselves, not hesitate to put forth, is suppressed, lest the readers should be startled too much is not the inference obvious, and one which they do not care to deny ?

Notes on the Parables of our Lord. By R. C. FRENCH, M. A. Second Edition, improved. London: Parker, 1844. Pp. 502.

THIS is a thoughtful and instructive volume on a subject of constant interest alike to the elder and younger members of the Church of Christ. Mr. French prefixes to his separate treatises on the thirty Parables of our Lord, four sensible chapters of introductory remarks on the Definition of the Parable-on Teaching by Parables-on the Interpretation by Parables--and on other Parables besides those in the Scriptures. Not only these, but the large notes on each parable are illustrated by very copious foot-notes, bringing much and varied rending of fathers, commentators, and theologians, to bear on each particular topic. Hence in the compass of a moderate volume we are furnished at once with a discussion of the author's view respecting the original occasion and application of each parable, and also with a consideration of all the general doctrines and principles involved in them, and how they may safely and justly be applied for the perpetual edification and admonition of all men.

CABINET EXTRACT.

Pope Clement the Eighth's Plenary Indulgence to the Irish, to encourage them to an insurrection against Queen Elizabeth: translated from the original Latin.-[See the collection of Records at the end of the first volume of Collier's Ecclesiastical History, p. 102]-"Pope Clement VIII. to all and every of our venerable brethren, the archbishops, bishops, and prelates, and also to our beloved sons the princes, earls, barons, and people of the kingdom of Ireland-wishing health and our apostolic benediction. Whereas, we have heard, that you, incited by the exhortations of our predecessors and ourselves, have long endeavoured to recover your liberties, and to defend and preserve them against the heretics-first under the auspices of James Gerald, and then under Hugh O'Neil, Earl of Tyrone, Captain-General of all the Catholic forces in Ireland, under whose command you have achieved the noblest victories; We, therefore, that you, your general and his troops may hereafter be encouraged still more manfully to contend against these heretics, and that you may be endowed with all spiritual grace for this object, after the example of our venerable predecessors, relying on the mercy of the Almighty, and on the authority of his blessed apostles, Peter and Paul, do grant to each and all of you who will follow the aforesaid general and his army, as the assertors and defenders of the Catholic faith, and to all others who, by advice, favour, or provisions, or by any other military aids, shall assist in this expedition, on their repentance and confession, and, when practicable, on receiving the holy Communion, the plenary pardon and remission of all their sins, to the same extent as if they had gone to the Holy Land to war against the Turks for its recovery to the Holy See. Nor shall this indulgence be rendered dependent on any general indulgences in the year of Jubilee, or on any other orders or constitutions whatsoever. And since it is difficult that these presents shall come into the hands of all whom they may concern, we desire that they shall have the same effect in these printed copies, subscribed officially with our hand, and sanctioned with our seal, as if we had given them in person to each individual. Given at Rome, at Peter's, under the ring of the Fisherman, the 18th of April, 1600, and the 9th of our Pontificate."

CHAPTER II. THE SYRIAN DESERT-CITY OF PALMYRA.

ABOUT three years had elapsed since the events related in the commencement of our narrative had taken place, when, on an evening of the year 272, a wayfaring man attired in the humble garb of a pilgrim, might be descried wending his way through that part of the Syrian desert which lies N. E. of Damascus, and stretches from that city to the banks of the Orontes. The garments of the traveller, we have said, were suited to the character of the pilgrim; and such undoubtedly was the severe simplicity of their general appearance and arrangement. But we must not omit to notice, what in that Eastern region would have attracted observation, that he wore the Roman toga, girded about him, as was the custom with travellers, in such a manner as not to embarrass his movements nor impede his journey. From this part of his dress the spectator would infer that he laid claim to the proud title of a Roman citizen; whilst the white tunicle or Dalmatic worn as an undergarment, and visible below the toga, was an evidence that he assumed the infinitely more illustrious designation of a Christian. Like the man of Tarsus he could associate his civil and religious nobility,-sanctifying and elevating the' one by connecting it with the purity and distinction of the other. Possessing the immunities and honours which the Empress of the world was accustomed to confer on her privileged sons, and which during the present

*The Dalmatic. was an Ecclesiastical vestment, so called, as it appears, because first used in Dalmatia. Another name for this article of clerical apparel in the Greek Church, was STICHARION. The Roman TUNICA seems to have corresponded with it in use and structure, both being worn close to the body, and reaching below the toga; but in other respects they differed entirely. The tunicle was probably worn in the same manner as our cassock: the colour and material, however, were dissimilar. St. Cyprian, on the occasion of his martyrdom, is said to have removed his Dalmatic before submitting himself to the executioner's sword.

H H

respite from persecution would shield from many an insult and outrage even the despised Galilæan, he was careful to assert the reputation and the real dignity of one whose conversation was in Heaven.

The singularity of his garb, whilst it represented at once his station in secular society and the holy profession he avowed, was well calculated to protect him from the violence which abounded in those troublous and disordered times. The mark of Roman citizenship would secure him, in the early stages of his journey, from the licence of Aurelian's soldiery, who were now stationed, under their warlike Emperor, at Antioch, which had surrendered to their victorious arms.* * And the badge of his Christian calling would be respected even by the Pagan subjects of the Palmyrenian Queen, to whose capital he was now repairing; for she, whether from policy or personal predilection is not quite clear, refused to allow the Christians in her dominions to be molested. The poverty, too, of his exterior would not excite the cupidity of the plundering Arab, who gained his livelihood from the distractions prevailing around him, and was ever ready to direct his keen sword or unerring shaft against Roman and Palmyrenian, without distinction or compas

sion.

The appearance of the traveller alone-if even his gray hairs failed to shelter him from insult-was not not such as to invite the assault of the desert-robber. His raiment, never imposing nor costly, was now soiled with many a stain and covered with dust. From Antioch to Emesa he had journeyed indeed without much fatigue, in the company of one of those commercial caravans, which in more peaceful days poured an unceasing stream of wealth into Palmyra, but rarely ventured, at this time, on the perilous enterprise of traversing the desert. From Emesa, however, he had been compelled to proceed of foot; and it was this circumstance which explained the sandals thrown over the left arm, and intended to replace the sort of half-boot which he wore to shield the foot from the burning sand. His progress, as may be imagined, was toilsome and slow; and at the termination of each stage of his journey, he had not hesitated to crave food and repose from the wild Arab, where he had pitched his temporary encampment on some island of verdure, which the bubbling spring had reclaimed from the surrounding ocean of sand; for the wandering son of Ishmael, despite his lawless and predatory habits, was never known to disappoint the confidence reposed in his hospitality by the necessitous stranger.

For the last hundred miles, the distance of Emesa from his destination, Palmyra, the aged stranger had pursued his journey over an arid waste,his steps becoming every moment fainter with increasing exhaustion, and his sight almost blinded by the glare of the sand. No signs of life met his view, save when the bounding antelope and the fleet ostrich crossed his path, or when some Arab troop was seen hovering for a few minutes on the horizon, and then disappearing in quest of plunder. Here and there indeed, but at distant intervals, the dreary blank was relieved by the scanty vegetation which struggled to preserve a precarious existence amid the driving sands of the desert. But as he approached the end of his pilgrimage, Nature began

Aurelian, at the period of which we are writing, was engaged in his expedition against Zenobia. The city of Antioch was the first-fruits of his success.

to assume a more genial aspect. The verdure was now interspersed with greater profusion, and wore a healthier hue. The level of the barren plain, hitherto unbroken, swelled here and there into gentle ascents, which, as the traveller advanced, were succeeded by eminences of greater declivity and roughness; until at length the landscape, by gradual but complete transformation, was converted into rocky passes and bold precipitous hills, the summits of which were crowned by the tall slender palm and the stately rugged terebinth; while the springs of water gushing from the crevices of the rock, poured their cool streams down the sides of the mountain into the gently declining valley beneath, yielding to the parched lips of the wayfarer a clear and grateful beverage.

Our Christian pilgrim, refreshed by the increased coolness of the evening and the draught supplied him by the crystal rivulets which flowed at his side, walked forward with a more vigorous tread. As he proceeded, the aspect of the country became still more varied and interesting. The neat and tasteful, though humble, cabins which formed the suburbs of the contiguous city, and were occupied by those who found employment, in some inferior capacity, from its commercial enterprise, glanced in various directions on the eye,-planted on some small extent of table-land excavated by nature from the mountain-side, or embosomed in hills clothed with the almost endless variety of foliage and flowers which adorns the transition zone. The Date Palm, with its clustered fruit, which still casts its shadows over the ruins of Palmyra; the Cedar, as flourishing as in the forests of Lebannon; the Plane Tree; the Orange; the Citron; and an abundance of those fruits which successful art has transplanted from Eastern climes to our colder latitudes; all these grew around in wild profusion, insensibly communicating to the mind of the beholder the impression, that Providence, in order to place its blessings in the strongest light, had thus designedly thrown into immediate contrast the luxuriant garden and the herbless waste.

The stranger, whose movements we have been following, found himself at length in a valley of considerable extent, bounded on either side by a continuous ridge of mountains, which formed the barrier of the desert without them. On the one side, beyond this natural bulwark, the wilderness extended to the banks of the Euphrates, which, at the distance of about sixty miles, rolled its majestic tide to the Persian gulph; and, on the other, it stretched to the very walls of Damascus. The most singular feature of the scenery at this point was the monuments of death scattered with melancholy frequency around; for the rock, along the whole length of the valley, had been excavated for the purpose of sepulture,-a spectacle which forcibly reminded the passenger of the proximity of grandeur to decay. Following the course of the descending valley lay the stupendous aqueduct the remains of which even at this day strike the beholder with astonishment. Catching in its deep and broad channel the streams that fell from the rock, it bore them into the heart of the city, and, by this means, furnished an ample supply of water to the many thousands within its walls, The hills began now to close in rapidly in such a manner as to hide from view, by a slight curvature at their extremity, the prospect which lay beyond. But when our traveller, who had quickened his pace with some degree of impatience to arrive at the end of a journey which had cost him no small fatigue and privation, attained at length the narrowest part of their convergence, the valley abruptly opened; and as he stood at the mountain-gorge from which the plain