Overwhelm all error, where'er 'tis found,
On infidel, Jewish, or holy ground.
Grow up and swell round the giant sin,

Who strives towards heaven with furious din;
Grow up and about him, till broken and tost
With thy billows of might, he sinks down a lost,
Corrupted, decaying, and withering thing,
No longer possess'd of power or sting,
No longer possess'd of the serpent's guile
To lure away man with his syren-smile.

Wicliffe thy word hath wak'd a strain
The world ne'er thought to hear again.
Religion hung her drooping head,

Her wan, cold cheek seem'd like the dead,
As she sank o'er her tomb alone:
In marbled, tapestried state she lay,
And through the crimson'd panes the ray
Of richly lustrous golden day

On her lovely form shone ;

But there it changed to a pale, pale hue,
And a sicklier cast o'er her features grew.

The arts in varied shape unite,
Each lending its peculiar light,
And gracing many a splendid dome,
They sought to make religion's home.

The pencil portray'd many a scene
That erst in Palestine hath been.
The virgin-mother and her Child—
His foot upon the serpent wild,
Which writhing lay beneath his tread,
Crouching to earth his vassal head;
While the Infant's gaze is fix'd above,
As careless of aught save his Father's love.

Again is shewn the lowly shed
Wherein the Almighty King was laid,
When come in his humility,
A sinful, captive race to free,
Redeeming many a wretched slave
From sin, and Satan, and the grave.
The eastern sage is kneeling there,
Presenting frankincense, and myrrh,
And gold, the type of sovereign power:
Thus dimly shewing forth the hour
When He, God-man, shall come again
To take his mighty power and reign.

Now they present a lovely form,
Pale as star in the dark night-storm,
Deep shame and anguish on her brow,
Her head in self-abasement low,
And sinking at the Saviour's feet,
As deprecating judgment meet
But uttering not a word or moan-
Her prayer is in her look alone.

The same pale face again is seen-
How changed is its expression now!
Traces of what she once had been
Are left upon her brow;

But a tear of joy is in her eye,

And her bosom heaves a gladsome sigh,

While the calmness of her look toward heaven Declares the peace of a soul forgiven.

Again, there is seen a council-hall,

The judge is on his throne: The accusers around assembled all, With curses and taunts, for vengeance call; While Jesus stands alone

Alone, for none he lov'd are nigh,—

They left him there to die.

Again, they shew forth Calvary's height-
The glorious Lord, the Lord of might,
Dying as sinful man ;

On the fell cross he yields his breath,
And dies a malefactor's death,

As under fearful ban.

See, on his head the thorny crown,
His face the blood is trickling down,
Death's glare is in his eye;
His head is sunk upon his breast,
He enters into final rest,

And heaves his latest sigh;

While those whom he came to succour and save
Savagely triumph o'er his grave.

But what are these?-Oh, is religion there?—
The art is excellent-'tis passing fair.
Beneath the canvass we admiring stand;
But 'tis the painter's bold, creative hand :
We there behold Messiah newly born-
And think of Raffaelo's natal morn;
We see the Saviour on the cross expire-
And Michael Angelo's fine touch admire.
Oh what are these?-have they e'er rais'd a heart
From this base world to take that Saviour's part?

Hark to the organ's pealing sound

It fills the lofty dome around;
Hark to that noble symphony,
That swelling choral harmony!
And now it dies away-'tis mute-
Alone is heard the sweet soft flute.
Now voices beautiful proclaim

In thrilling tones the Saviour's name,
Mix'd with some opera-notes of fame.
The sounds have captive ta'en the sense,
All stand with listening ear intense→
Within them deep emotions glow,
Which like religious feeling flow:-
But, alas! it is only music's spell,

And passes away, like the sound of the bell
That tells of the young and the fair, who are gone

Down to the grave alone.

The tones of the song are lov'd far more
Than the name they are gather'd to adore.

Thus they deck'd out religion's fane.

With pomps and ceremonies vain
They seek to catch the sense-the mind
In superstition's chain to bind.
But still the more she pines away;
And though they bring the poet's lay,
The sculptor's, painter's mimic art,
They cannot cheer her fainting heart;
And even music's witching strain
Falls upon her ear in vain.

As persons strive to light a hall

Made dark by some enchanter's spell,

At a

POPERY.-Whenever popery is able to reach the members of a purer Church, it crushes them indiscriminately, and knows not how to pity or spare. period in which the genius of liberalism (strange to say) has taken under its special protection this leviathan, which it would persuade us has grown tameso lost its former habits, and contracted such a distaste for blood, that we may now "play with it as with a bird," and "bind it for our maidens," at such a period, it is highly important to bring authentic documents before the public eye of what Romanism has always been, and must needs continue. A more dangerous opinion cannot be well entertained-(and mortal foes to religion and their country are those who propagate it) than the opinion that intolerance is a mere accident of popery, and not its very essence. Repeatedly has it been shewn from the authentic articles of the Romish Church, from its legal constitutions, and out of writers of the highest authority within its pale, as well as by an overbalancing induction of historical facts, that the spirit of the popedom never relents towards those who refuse it implicit obedience. It is a stern, uncompromising, truculent despotism, and cannot become otherwise than by ceasing to be. Since its growth was complete, and its form and character fixed, it has never altered its attitude, nor can do so, without abandoning its fundamental pretensions. Seated, as a god, upon a solitary throne, it plants its foot upon the necks of mankind, and points its sword at the breasts of any who attempt to rise from their abject position. It may yield to circumstances, and put on the mask of conciliation and forbearance; but its imperious nature is unchangeable. For political purposes, it may assume the mild aspect " of a lamb," but when the season comes for discovering its real sentiments, it will abundantly speak out "as a dragon." From the narrative before us, we obtain conclusive evidence in support of these allegations... Let the reader attentively consider this record of the protracted martyrdom of M. Le Febvre-(for well may he be called a martyr whose life was abridged by a long incarceration and most inhuman treatment),-let the reader look into this record as a mirror, in which the features of popery are far from being displayed in all their enormity; and then say whether a judicial blindness must not fall upon a Protestant people before it can lend itself to the restoration of so malignant a power, to replenishing its cup of sorceries, and to "girding" it" with a new sword."

THE JEWS IN PALESTINE.-According to a traveller who has recently visited that interesting quarter, within the last forty years scarcely 2000 Jews were to be found in Palestine. They amount now to above 40,000, and are increasing in multitude by large annual additions. In the first days of this month a

• From Preface, by Rev. J. N. Pearson, M.A., to the "Narrative of the Sufferings and Death of M. Isaac Le Febvre, a Protestant of Chatel-Chignon, in France." London, Baisler. 1839. -A very interesting volume.

large number of Israelites from the States of Morocco arrived at Marseilles, in order to embark there for the coast of Syria, and proceed thence on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem.

CHURCH OF THE LATERAN.-One of the most ancient churches in Rome, in respect of origin, if not of structure, is that of the Lateran, famed as the seat of so many general councils of the Church, and one of the four chief basilicas; it having been founded by Constantine in the early part of the third century. The present structure, however, in front of which stands a lofty Egyptian obelisk, covered with hieroglyphics, was erected in the seventeenth century, and exhibits the bad taste of that period. The principal front is later, having been built about 1735, by Alexander Galilei, an architect who has shewn far greater taste in the splendid Corsini chapel, that forms one of the chief attractions of the interior. This last is of extraordinary richness; marbles, gilding, painting, sculpture, all are profusely employed, yet so discreetly, and with such elegance of taste, that the eye finds no excess. The cloisters belonging to this church form quite an architectural studio, being surrounded by an arcade of small arches resting upon columns placed in pairs that is, one before the other-which exhibit extraordinary variety both in their shafts and capitals. Some of the shafts are twisted singly; others compounded of two twisted together; some, again, with plain surfaces; others enriched by flutings, cablings, carvings, and different modes of embellishment; many of which might furnish ideas, even were they objected to as models. There are also other curiosities shewn here, of a more startling kind; among the rest, a marble fragment, which passes for the identical stone on which the cock crowed at the time of St. Peter's denial of his Master!! Surely this must be intended by the very Catholics themselves as a burlesque upon those relics to which their Church attaches so much importance; if not, it is an instance of fatuity that almost exceeds belief.-W. Rae Wilson, Esq.

WALLACHIA is at present a nominally independent principality, much under Russian influence; its inhabitants are Christians of the Greek Church. Except for groups of seven clumsy wooden crosses, which we every now and then passed on the way, I saw no difference between Wallachia and Turkey; in truth, the preference might, without injustice, be given to the latter country, the landscape of which is so much its superior: exerting herself to rank with European powers would make the traveller expect more; and yet not even a road, the primary evidence of civil position, facilitates his progress.. These people speak a very corrupt Latin, called Romanisti, which, I think, in many respects approaches the Italian. Wallachians affirm, (and I believe with some truth,) that their race has been blended with the Roman

The

legions who were encamped amongst the ancient Dacians to subdue them: the language is, however, now mixed up with a number of Turkish and Greek words. I consider Wallachia more objectionable than Turkey, since it affects to rank itself with European policy and professes Christianity; yet how lamentably is the traveller disappointed at finding the same backwardness, the same indolence, and the same filth, in most cases even worse than Turkey: they seem a selfish and boorish race; in short, things had only changed their names, but not their nature.-Burton's Narrative.

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

PRINTED BY

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

FAMILY-WORSHIP.

BY THE REV. JAMES RAWLINGS, M.A. Rector of St. Pinnock, near Liskeard, Cornwall. THERE are many persons who are in a great degree sensible of their obligation to establish family-worship, while at the same time they do not perceive the various and great advantages accruing from the practice of it. It is one thing to be influenced by a sense of duty, and another to be animated and warmed by a feeling of privilege. In order to the right performance of duties, there must, among other requisites, be a distinct apprehension not only of what we owe, but also of what we hope for. A bare abstract sense of duty is seldom, if ever, the chief moving and regulating spring of human conduct. The hope and expectation of some remunerating good will perhaps invariably be found to be the primary actuating principle of life. The duty of family or household worship appears, after a little consideration, as undeniable and as urgent as that of devotion in the closet. He who doubts his obligation to maintain the first, will certainly think but lightly of the last. Such are the relations in which a household exists, that the worship of individuals would scarcely be applicable to its state; and, however comprehensive, would fail to embrace the peculiar subjects of its prayer or praise. As social bodies, we have joys and sorrows, wants and blessings, of our own; so that if" one member suffer, all the members suffer with it; or one member be honoured, all the members rejoice with it." Family-worship seems, then, to be absolutely required of us, if we would, in accordance with the apostle's exhortation, " in

VOL. VII.-NO. CLXXXI.

PRICE 1 d.

every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving make our requests known unto God;" and so again, if we would attend to what the same apostle says in another place, "praying always with all prayer," which means praying at all proper seasons, with all kinds of prayer, as circumstances or situation shall direct. But, not to dwell on the duty of family-worship, which I conceive to be involved in that of private or individual worship,-which last no one who believes that there is a God, and that he himself is a responsible creature, will for a moment dispute, -I will proceed to point out one or two advantages resulting from the regular practice of well-ordered family-worship. The constant and devout performance of this great duty begets in our households a spirit of

seriousness and reflection. It is hard to believe that the members of a praying family will go on in sin and rebellion, without some remonstrances of conscience. Recalled at stated seasons, and at no long intervals, morning and evening, to at least the recognition of a supreme Being; "Thou, God, seest me," we may suppose will be a feeling accompanying them in some degree throughout the day. Who does not know the tendency of religious exercises to avert the course of licentious thought into purer and more confined channels, and to soberise and calm down the unruly passions and inordinate affections of the mind? The practice of this duty is also advantageous, inasmuch as it promotes the peace and good order of a family. What is so likely to allay the little irritations, and settle the little disputes, which will occasionally arise in almost every family, as the periodical approach, in prayer and praise, to the

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footstool of that Almighty Being whom all have grievously offended, and from whom all real blessings are received? How shall we, with this petition just escaped from our lips, "forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us," rush from the familyaltar to enter into quarrels, or to gratify the spirit of revenge? "Where envying and strife is"-and these grow luxuriantly enough in the natural heart-"there is confusion and every evil work;" but religion inculcates order, and introduces peace. The God whom we worship" is not the author of confusion, but of peace." But the aspect which familyworship bears on the everlasting interests of the members of our households, this-this, beyond every other consideration, should weigh with us for the due observance of it.

Heads of families should often consider the responsibility that attaches to them for, as far as practicable, the religious education of their households. If any one, whether child or servant, perish through our neglect or indifference, shall not God in righteous judgment require his blood at our hands? The Lord has said, All souls are mine; and he has committed them (of our servants and children) for a time to our keeping; and does he not say in effect to us, Keep this child or servant; and if by any means he be missing or lost, then shall thy life be for his life? O let us begin, or continue in, the important duty of familyworship: let us no longer consider it as a duty only, but also as an inestimable privilege. Let us remember that it is a silent proclamation to our households of the truth of the religion we profess-a "still small voice," which the most wayward and careless cannot always be deaf to, calling them off from a world that lieth in wickedness, to the contemplation of those things which make for their everlasting peace. How many a first impression has it pleased God to make whilst around the family-altar, which all life's devious wanderings failed to obliterate, and which at last, through the infinite mercy and grace of Him who began the good work, was brought to perfection!

As to any difficulties which may appear to lie in the way of our practising the great duty of family-worship, let us ever bear in mind that God's grace is sufficient for us. Imbued with the spirit of true religion, every obstacle which the world, the flesh, and the devil, can throw in the way will speedily be overcome, and we shall be made "more than conquerors through Him that loved us." Then, of a truth, God will bless us, for "he blesseth the habitation of the just." The dew of his grace, we may hope, will descend upon every member of our family; and whilst he guides us by his counsel here, we may rest in the delightful

assurance that afterwards he will receive us to glory, for Jesus Christ's sake.

MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S DAY AT PARIS.-A.D. 1572.

No. II.

THE king, it is stated, speedily felt the most violent remorse for permitting the massacre. From the evening of the 24th Aug. he was observed to groan much when informed of the cruelties that had been perpetrated; and at length, after some conversation with Ambrose Pare, his surgeon and a Huguenot, he forbade the continuance of the deed of blood. He hoped to exculpate himself; for in letters sent by him into the provinces, he threw the blame of the whole proceeding on the members of the house of Guise. But in eight days he changed his tone, declaring that the whole affair took place by his express command. It is certain that he was himself seen with a carabine in his hand during the massacre, which he is said to have fired on the Huguenots. It is not less so, that he went with his court to view the body of Coligny while suspended at Montfaucon; and that when one of his courtiers observed that it smelt ill, he replied, "The body of a dead enemy always smells well." The number of Protestants massacred in eight days, over the kingdom, amounted to 70,000.

"The last ferocious act of Charles, which grew immediately out of the St. Bartholomew," says Mr. Smedley," was a mock trial, instituted against the deceased admiral and his adherents in the pretended conspiracy. The sentence passed against Coligny, as a traitor, involved confiscation of all his property, perpetual infamy, and the suppression of his name. His body, if it could be found (and if that were not possible, his effigy), was to be drawn on a hurdle through the streets, and gibbeted, first in the Place de Grêve for six hours, afterwards on a loftier spot at Montfaucon. His armorial bearings were to be dragged at a horse's tail through every town in which they might have been set up, and to be defaced and broken in pieces by the common executioner; his statues, busts, and portraits, were to be demolished in like manner. His chief seat at Châtillon was to be razed to the ground; no building was ever again to be founded on its site; the trees in the park were to be cut down to half their natural height; the glebe was to be sown with salt; and in some central spot a column was to be erected, bearing on it this decree engraved in brass. His children had escaped the fury of the king during the massacre; but they were now proscribed, degraded from their nobility, declared incapable of bearing witness in courts of law, stripped of all civil privileges, and the power of holding any public office, or of enjoying any property within the limits of France for ever. An annual public religious service and procession was at the same time instituted, to commemorate the mercy of Heaven, which had so signally averted calamity from the kingdom on the festival of St. Bartholomew.

"It was not, however, on the dead only that the vengeance of the court was content to wreak itself in these moments of subsidence. Two living victims also were provided for sacrifice. Cavagne, a counsellor of the parliament of Toulouse, and Briquemaut, profession of arms, in which he had long served with who at seventy years of age had retired from the honour, were arrested as Huguenots a short time after the massacre. The escape of Briquemaut during the Parisian carnage was attended with remarkable circumstances. Perceiving that every outlet was blockaded, and that the murderers were in close pursuit, he stripped off his clothes, and throwing himself among a heap of bleeding corpses, lay upon

his face and counterfeited death. His nakedness prevented examination and discovery by the wretches who followed in the train of the assassins to rifle their fallen victims; and at night, wrapping round him such rags as were near at hand, he stole away unobserved, and took refuge at the house of the English ambassador. There he found employment in the stables; and he was dressing a horse at the moment in which he was recognised and arrested.

at Lyons? What did the sucking-children and their mothers at Rouen deserve? at Caen? at Rochelle? What is done yet, we have not heard; but I think shortly we shall hear. Will God, think you, still sleep? Will not their blood ask vengeance? Shall not the earth be accursed that hath sucked up the innocent blood poured out like water upon it?"

In the general dispersion which succeeded these massacres, the Huguenots took refuge in England, in the Palatinate, and a part of them in Switzerland. A remnant, however, still remained behind.

"The charge brought against him and Cavagne, was participation in the admiral's conspiracy; with the exception, therefore, of the merely personal clauses, their sentence was similar to that which we have just recited; and De Thou, who heard it read to them, notices the fortitude with which Briquemaut listened-notwithstanding the usual ignominy with which one nobly born was adjudged to the gallows till he found that in some of the penalties his children also were included. What have they done to merit this severity?' was the inquiry of the heart-broken veteran. Between five and six in the evening of the 27th of October, the sad procession quitted the Conciergerie for the Place de Grêve. In the mouth of the straw effigy, by which the admiral was represented, some heartless mocker had placed a toothpick, to increase the resemblance by imitating one of his common habits. At the windows of the Hôtel de Ville, which commanded a near view of the scaffold, were assembled Charles (to whom his consort on that morning had presented her first-born child), the queen mother, and the King of Navarre, who had been compelled to attend. A considerable delay took place; and some proposal appears to have been made, by which, even at the last moment, the condemned might have purchased their lives, if they would have debased themselves by treachery and falsehood. When at length the hangman had thrown them from the ladder, Charles ordered flambeaux to be held close to their faces, in order that he might distinctly view the variety of expression which each exhibited in his parting agony. Suetonius does not record a more fiend-like anecdote of the worst of the Cæsars. The populace imitated the brutality of their sovereign. During the long and fearful pause which had occurred on the scaffold, and the many hours through which the bound and defenceless prisoners endured that lingering expectation far more bitter than death itself, their suffering was heightened by cruel outrages inflicted by the rabble; who, when life was extinct, dragged the bodies from the gallows, and savagely tore them in pieces."

"When intelligence of the massacre," adds Mr. Smedley, "was first announced at Rome, the Vatican gave loose to unbounded joy. The pope and cardinals proceeded at once from the conclave in which the king's despatches had been read, to offer thanks before the altar, for the great blessing which Heaven had vouchsafed to the Romish see and to all Christendom. Salvoes of artillery thundered at nightfall from the ramparts of St. Angelo; the streets were illuminated; and no victory ever achieved by the arms of the pontificate elicited more tokens of festivity. The pope also, as if resolved that an indestructible evidence of the perversion of moral feeling which fanaticism necessarily generates should be transmitted to posterity, gave orders for the execution of a commemorative medal. He had already been anticipated in Paris; and the effigies of Gregory XIII. and of Charles IX. may still be seen in numismatic cabinets, connected with triumphant legends and symbolical devices, illustrative of the massacre.

"The Cardinal of Lorraine presented the messenger with a thousand pieces of gold; and unable to restrain the extravagance of his delight, exclaimed that he believed the king's heart to have been filled by a sudden inspiration from God when he gave orders for the slaughter of the heretics. Two days afterwards he celebrated a solemn service in the church of St. Louis, with extraordinary magnificence; on which occasion, the pope, the whole ecclesiastical body, and many resident ambassadors, assisted. An elaborate inscription was then affixed to the portals of the church, congratulating God, the pope, the college of cardinals, and the senate and people of Rome, on the stupendous results and the almost incredible effects of the advice, the aid, and the prayers which had been offered during a period of twelve years."

Sir Francis Walsingham was at this time the resident ambassador from England. His interview with Catherine after the massacre was truly interesting. He concealed not the disgust which would be felt by his royal mistress, Elizabeth, at such outrages; and his despatches notice the brutal sportiveness with which the Parisians spoke of them as "a Bartholomew breakfast, and a Florence banquet." The detestation in which the name of the French court was held in England, is thus described in a strain of rude, yet powerful eloquence, by his friend and correspondent, Sir Thomas Smith, the queen's secretary :— "What warrant can the French make now, seals and words of princes being traps to catch innocents and bring them to butchery? If the admiral and all those murdered on that bloody Bartholomew - day were guilty, why were they not apprehended, imprisoned, interrogated, and judged? But so much made of as might be, within two hours of the assassination! Is that the manner to handle men, either culpable or suspected? So is the journeyer slain by the robber; so is the hen of the fox; so the hind of the lion; so Abel of Cain; so the innocent of the wicked; so Abner of Joab. But grant they were guilty, they dreamed treason that night in their sleep; what did the innocent men, women, and children do

THE PARABLE OF THE SOWER:
A Sermon,

BY THE REV. W. HARRISON, M.A.
Vicar of St. Oswald's, Chester.

MARK, iv. 3.

ར.

"Behold, there went out a sower to sow." THERE are few parables which are more familiar to us, and few which have been more frequently discoursed upon, than that of which these words form the commencement-the parable of the sower. It is particularly valuable, because it is one of those which our Saviour himself condescended to explain; and it contains much of warning and much of instruction, to pay serious regard to which it behoves us all.

The parable itself is simply this: A sower goes out to sow, and his seed is received by four different kinds of soil. The seed means the word of God, and the soils represent the different dispositions of those who hear it.