we suspect that were the establishment of the Church in England to be overthrown (for the Church itself cannot be overthrown), and were religion to be left as an open and indifferent question to the mercy of Dissenters, considering the bitter disposition of sect towards sect, fully as bitter as the enmity of the aggregate towards the Church; the magistrate would be bound to interfere, either authoritatively to choose a religion for the malcontents, or authoritatively to prohibit the entertainment of a religion.

"The religion of the Jewish people was directly revealed in all its principles and all its institutions by Jehovah himself." And is not the Christian religion similarly circumstanced? And as to the magistrate having nothing whatever to say in the matter, what does Dr. Wardlaw think of the sayings of David and Solomon concerning the building of the temple? And what does he think of Solomon's doings, when he numbered all the strangers that were in the land of Israel, and set them to assist in the work? What does he think of Solomon, the civil ruler, pronouncing the prayer of consecration? And was this temple a portion of the Divine revelation? Or might not the Doctor, to be consistent, appropriately call it the whim of a monarch? The people, however, willingly presented their offerings; and thus afterwards came the regular temple rate, which was cheerfully paid. It would have been strange had a sect arisen among the Jews, to dispute the validity of the rate, upon the ground that civil rulers ought not to say or do anything in religious matters; and that, as the erection of the temple was planned by David, and put into execution by Solomon, therefore it was highly proper to resist any payment towards its support. But the Israelites were not Dissenters; and hence they could not argue as Dissenters do, who tell us that it would consort to a tittle with their consciences to allow the temples of Christendom to fall into ruins, while it would be an insufferable outrage upon them, as indeed they profess that it is, to contribute a mite towards upholding them: a plain proof that the consciences of Dissenters are in a far more ruinous condition than any in which these temples are likely to be.

It cannot be denied, we imagine, that under the old dispensation the civil ruler preserved, maintained, and strengthened the national Church; and we are at a loss to see why the civil ruler now may not do the same towards that Church which shall at last comprehend all nations. Contempt or hypocrisy can alone explain à ruler's neutrality.

To quote the lecturer again: "So far from the Jewish economy giving any countenance to such profanity (that is, of magisterial interference), the magistrate under it had no power to introduce a single alteration in any department, even of the outward ceremonial of religion, without express intimation of the Divine will. If a sanction for the commission of such a power to any human being could be found in the Bible, it would furnish the infidel with a stronger objection to its divinity than any he has ever been able to educe from its contents."

Of what use is it for the lecturer to combat with obstacles of his

own creating with such asseverations as these? Who was there, whether friend to establishments of the Church, or enemy, that ever supposed that the magistrate had authority to introduce alterations in religion? There are no two opinions upon this subject: why, then, does Dr. Wardlaw, with the solemnity of an oracle, so perseveringly repeat his convictions, as though they had lately flashed upon his understanding, and he had been commissioned from above to publish them to the world? Alterations in religion! "Thou that teachest another, teachest thou not thyself?" How many alterations in religion have not Dr. Wardlaw and his party made since they forsook the institution of their fathers? How many alterations are they not making daily? And have they received express intimation of the Divine will so to do? Are they the men to whom God has committed the authority to multiply divisions, until the load groans under the burden of the guilt and shame that they accumulate?

This is the second time that the lecturer has alluded to an infidel: a short time ago we found him wishing to have a candid infidel's opinion as to the contrasts of the Christian records: now, we find him talking about the objections which the infidel has been able to educe to the divinity of these records from these contents; and he then sets forth a stronger objection than any which he has ever been able to educe-a proffer of assistance to the infidel, very kindly intended no doubt; for it suits the purpose of Dissenters much better that people should be infidels than that they should have a particle of churchism in them; in fact, to use the words of a certain clergyman that we know, relative to the Dissenters in his parish: "I find (says he), that if Dissenters cannot get the people to go to their meeting-houses, they would rather that they should go to no place of worship, rather than go to the parish church :" nor do we doubt but that others could say the same.

We, in our turn, will mention, not a stronger objection to the divinity of the Bible than any which the infidel has ever been able to educe, but the strongest, so far as infidel estimation is concerned, that ever has been or ever can be brought forward; and an objection for which Dr. Wardlaw and others are to the last degree responsible, and that is, the existence and prevalence of sectarianism. This it is which has at all times whetted the animosity of infidels to intensity; this it is which has confirmed them, and does confirm them in their infidelity, beyond every other cause which they can invent. And let an infidel insist upon the force and propriety of this objection with never so much earnestness, a Dissenter, as such, has no means of meeting him upon his own ground-he must either beg the question, or beat a retreat; whereas, whatever unhappy divisions may exist in the Church, they are accidental rather than designed; at any rate, they do not partake of the nature of sects.

Let us observe the following specimen of the lecturer's terseness: "The question relates not to the divine sanction of Christianity, but to the divine sanction of the nationality of Christianity." What unaccountable expressions does this learned man use! We must

jog his memory again; for the question relates neither to the divine sanction of the nationality of Christianity, nor to the divine sanction of Christianity not nationalized, but to the divine sanction of the nationality or establishment in a nation of the Church or institution appointed by Christ for perpetuating the knowledge and ordinances of Christianity. The expression "nationality of Christianity," is one as nonsensical and far-fetched as we remember ever to have It has been shown before, that there is no divine rule against the establishment of the Church. Dr. Wardlaw has not produced any such rule; and until he does something more than prove a negative, it is but lost time to reply to his tautologies.

seen.

One more reference to the lecture, and we shall leave it till next month. The Doctor says, that "the nation to which Christianity now belongs as its instituted faith and worship, is the 'chosen generation, the royal priesthood, the holy nation, the peculiar people,' consisting of true believers in every country."

This is mere dogmatical repetition; and we refer to it on account of its flimsy and effeminate theology. The erroneous gloss that the lecturer sought to put upon these words has been already exposed in a former paper, therefore we need not repeat our strictures; but before we conclude we would just ask, what is it that he means by "true believers ?" and where is it that the Scriptures countenance such an expression? If a man believe, he believes; if he disbelieve, he disbelieves; but here it is hinted that a believer differs from a true believer, and that a true believer differs from one that is only a believer. This discovery is similar to that other one that has been noticed-viz., that there are two sorts of Christians, italic and straight-letter Christians. Had the lecturer meant by true believers, those who believe truth in opposition to falsity, we should have understood him; but, alas! the expression is invidious, canting, distinctive, where there is no need of distinction-hollow. We love sound speech that cannot be condemned, and are surprised that Dr. Wardlaw should adopt such idiosyncracies. A. B. E.

A SABBATH EVENING IN WALES.

BY JANET WILKINSON.

THE mist is in the valley, the mountain's dark on high,
The pale moon, like a spirit, dimly gleaming in the sky;
The stillness of the evening o'er the face of Nature reigns,
And peasant voices swell the air with soft soul-filling strains.
The tiny hamlet shadow'd lies, as if 'twere veil'd in sleep,
But those voices from its bosom full of life and feeling sweep;
The little band of cotters have met in concord there,
And mingling, varying, slow and sweet, the solemn cadence share.
Oh! sing they to the mountains, which, like warders, watch above;
Or greet they yon fair planet with a tone of joy and love?
No! each his praiseful tribute to the great Creator pays,
Who rear'd those heights, and from the void of chaos call'd those

[rays!

He gave them being!-for their use the earth's bright surface spreads,
And o'er their path a thousand gifts of heavenly mercy sheds;
The very mist now gathering for them bedews the sod,

And the pure flame now inspiring them is breath'd to them by God!

This is the Sabbath evening!-the hallow'd day He blest,
And gave man as a haven wherein awhile to rest.

It is the Sabbath evening, and those hymns are meet to lend
An echo to the anthems which angelic minstrels blend.

They rise from lips uncultur'd, and their accents full and clear
Speak only to my heart-they are foreign to my ear;

Yet not for all the practis'd lays that princely domes resound,
Would I give one word, one touching note that pours its music
round!

Long may such holy chorus from the peasant's dwelling come,
It is worthy of the gorgeous land those peasants call their home;
It is worthy to be wafted to yon placid star-lit sky-
A fitting incense rais'd to God by souls that never die!

RURAL RECORDS.-No. IV.

THE RECluse.

"The lover too shuns business and alarms,
Tender idolater of absent charms;
Saints offer nothing in their warmest prayers,
That he devotes not with a zeal like theirs :
'Tis consecration of his heart, soul, time,
And every thought that wanders is a crime;
In sighs he worships his supremely fair,
And weeps a sad libation in despair;
Adores a creature, and devout in vain,

Wins in return an answer of disdain.”—Cowper.

OFTEN have I repeated these lines as I have passed up the mossgrown lane which led to the isolated cottage of Gervase. It was long time, however, before I could adopt such language with reference to its inhabitant. Long time elapsed before I knew why it was that Gervase had thus separated himself from the society of man. And even to this day I should have been ignorant of the cause, if I had not heard the babbling tongue of rumour say harsh things of him. "Sir (one would say), do you know why it is that the gentleman of the Dale Cottage lives alone?" And answering in the negative, "Then I can tell you (would be the reply)-he has been a bankrupt, and has now scarcely sufficient to keep him in being." And then, asking the same question, and receiving the same reply, would assert that he was still in fear of being sent to prison for debt; while a third would boldly affirm that he had practised the ignoble art of the duellist, had driven a soul into eternity, and at the same moment had bidden adieu to peace of mind and society for ever.

Now, as I was aware to what an extent conjecture can go in sup

plying the lack of information- -as I knew, also, that villagers are prone to slander, I resolved not to give credence to these rumours concerning Gervase, but discover the cause of his seclusion from his own lips.

For this purpose, with my staff in my hand, I loitered down the green lane, and lingered round the cottage of Gervase-gathering, by way of excuse, the honeysuckles that grew in the hedges-evening after evening, hoping that I might, as the rustics would say, "scrape an acquaintance with him." This was, however, no easy matter. I frequently had the melancholy pleasure of seeing the elegant form of Gervase pass out of the wicket-gate towards me, but as he approached his steps quickened, and he glided by me as though fearful of being observed. It was some time, indeed, before I could catch a glimpse of the face of the pale recluse, and when I did there was an expression in it, that, "friend" as I am on the subject of "human. worship," I instinctively raised my hat from my head.

This movement I had no cause to regret. It was, in fact, a step which led to our mutual acquaintance. From that moment when we met we gave each other the nod of recognition, which at length emboldened me to halt before him as we met in the narrowest part of the green lane.

I could not make so bold as to ask Gervase at once why he had taken up his abode in so solitary a place. My first conversation with him was simply about the weather, and subjects of an ordinary nature. But these could hardly be termed conversations. Half sentences, and monosyllables, made up all the replies of Gervase to my observations, and these were sometimes so wide of the mark that any one wanting in charity would have laughed outright. But they had no such effect upon my mind. On the contrary, perceiving in the face of Gervase the traces of intellect, I have often breathed an inward sigh as I endeavoured to draw it out into some field of observation. On one occasion, indeed, I could not refrain shedding a tear at his incoherent replies, which led to the discovery of the secret I wished to obtain. Observing me weep, Gervase, to my astonishment, uttered a whole sentence, the burden of which was a desire to know the cause of my tears.

"Gervase (I replied), I presume it will not cost you much effort of mind to discover why I weep."

"True (Gervase exclaimed), you weep at my (Gervase would have added) want of thought;" but he again relapsed into his old habit. Feeling, however, that this was not an opportunity to be lost, I resolved at once to endeavour to know the cause of his solitude and melancholy, and therefore I continued the subject. "Gervase, (said I), it is evident you are aware that your conduct appears singular to me, and that I can discern the traces of some secret grief which is preying upon your heart."

"I am," ejaculated Gervase, as his tears mingled with mine. "May I then ask the cause?" I rejoined.

"Why do you wish to to know?" asked Gervase.

"That I may, if possible, administer a little balm of consolation to