MARRIAGE. Proceeding on the sacred principle of giving the sanction of religion to whatever concerns the real welfare of man, our Church renders the solemnisation of that contract on which "the charities and affections of domestic life depend," a holy ordinance. Entirely unaffected by the concessions of modern legislation on the subject of marriage, and upholding the scriptural views of the whole Christian Church, from its earliest period, in regard to this important point, she still recognises the sacred nature of the contract, and gives it the solemn impress of religious obligation. The principle and the service of our Church with respect to this ordinance are unchanged. At all No alteration has either taken place, or is it at all contemplated. So that whatever may have been done contrary to the conscientious principles of churchmen, to "relieve the consciences" of others, I trust in God that we shall never become approving parties to those marriages in which the holy ordinance is degraded into a mere civil ceremony. events, our Church is free from the guilt of such a desecration; and surely it ought to endear her the more strongly to our hearts, that she still requires a blessing to be sought, and vows of fidelity and of affection to be given and received by the husband and the wife, on entering into the bond of wedlock; thus "hallowing and honouring that union on which all the sanctity of home depends," and which, in an especial manner, has given to woman, if she fulfil her appointed character, her true rank and dignity in life, as the kind companion of man, the soother of his sorrows, the partner of his joys, his fellow-helper through the world's pilgrimage, to the heavenly rest beyond. The Sanctuary of God, by the Rev. C. S. Hassells. EMBALMING.-The Egyptians excelled all other nations in the art of preserving bodies from corruption; for some that they have embalmed upwards of two thousand years ago remain whole to this day, and are often brought into other countries as great curiosities. Their manner of embalming was thus: they scooped the brains with an iron scoop out at the nostrils, and threw in medicaments to fill up the vacuum they also took out the entrails; and having filled the body with myrrh, cassia, and other spices, except frankincense, proper to dry up the humours, they pickled it in nitre, where it lay soaking for seventy days. The body was then wrapped up in bandages of fine linen and gums to make it stick like glue; and so was delivered to the kindred of the deceased, entire in all its features, the very hairs of the eyelids being preserved. They used to keep the bodies of their ancestors, thus embalmed, in small houses magnificently adorned, and took great pleasure in beholding them alive, as it were, without any change in their size, features, or complexion. "CONSIDER THE LILIES OF THE FIELD."-In this passage Jesus Christ is commonly supposed to have referred to the white lily, or to the tulip; but neither of these grow wild in Palestine. It is natural to presume that, according to his usual custom, he called the attention of his hearers to some object at hand; and as the fields of the Levant are overrun with the Amaryllis lactea, whose golden lilaceous flowers in autumn afford one of the most brilliant and gorgeous objects in nature, the expression of "Solomon in all his glory not being arrayed like one of these," is pecu. liarly appropriate."-Rev. T. H. Horne. RESPONSES. The whole spirit of our liturgy bears, unquestionably, the appearance of a people worshipping God. It is not the minister alone, but it is the congregation jointly with him. They are to take their turn, both in the prayers and in the Psalms; and so far does this spirit extend itself, that even in the lessons it is in some churches customary for a layman— one of the congregation-to stand up and read the appointed chapter for the day. But in the Psalms particularly, which were originally sung (and which are now sung, or chanted, in cathedrals), there is a special alternation of the verses; the minister reading one, the people the other. Also, in the versicles which occur in many parts of the liturgy, the minister reads the first, the people reply in the other. The custom of repeating the Psalms alternately is extremely ancient. St. Basil, one of the Fathers of the Church, says, that "the people, rising before it was light, went to the house of prayer, and there, in great agony of soul, made confession of their sins to God; and then, rising from their prayers, proceeded to singing of psalms, dividing themselves into two parts, and singing by turns." Thus our cathedral service divides the choir into two sides, and each sings or chants a verse alternately, as it were provoking and relieving each other's devotion. And from this, no doubt, our parochial or common service takes its custom, of the minister reading one verse, and the people the other. -Rev. W. Bennett. READERS.-Readers may be divided into four classes. The first may be compared to an hour-glass, their reading being as the sand: it runs in, and it runs out, and leaves not a vestige behind. A second class resembles a sponge, which imbibes every thing, and returns it nearly in the same state, only a little dirtier. A third class is like a jelly-bag, which allows all that is pure to pass away, and retains only the refuse and the dregs. The fourth class may be compared to the slave in the diamond mines in Golconda, who, casting aside all that is worthless, preserves only the pure gem.-Coleridge. TO CORRESPONDENTS. We beg to remind correspondents, that, as many Numbers are printed in advance, all communications having reference to particular seasons should be forwarded at least two months previously. We wish it to be generally understood, that papers, if considered suitable to our pages, appear in regular course; while those prose articles, which we are unable to insert, are left for their respective authors at our publishers'. It is our desire to acknowledge as soon as possible every communication which reaches us; but our correspondents do not always give us their address; and, among the very great number of papers we receive, it is possible that occasionally one may be overlooked. Should this ever be the case, we hope that our friends will kindly make allowance for us, and not impute our silence to neglect. 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. INFIDELITY THE COMMON CHARACTER- BY THE REV. T. E. HANKINSON, M.A. Ix prosecuting the subject of the strong tendency of the human heart to infidelity, we may confirm and illustrate the general proposition by adverting to the comparative influence exercised over the conduct by what is known as matter of fact, and what is (in profession) believed as matter of faith. There are two particulars relating to the condition of man-one of which is known as a substantial fact, the other is revealed as a scriptural truth, we mean, the brevity of his life here, and the eternity of his existence hereafter. Here, then, a fair opportunity is presented of testing the difference between faith and sense. There are many occasions in which, as a matter of business, a man has to take into consideration the probable length of his own life, or that of others. On those occasions, how carefully and justly does he make his estimate! In purchasing a lifeproperty, he will take into consideration all the particulars of age, and health, and situation; not only forming his designs upon the admitted fact, that he cannot live beyond a certain number of years, but likewise taking into account the probable fact, that he may live a much less number of years than the bound prescribed by possibility. All this is matter of sense; here we have an example of a man acting upon what he sees and knows; and acting likewise, let it be remarked, for the security of interests of which the value depends, not upon credence, but upon expe VOL. IV. NO. XCVI. PRICE 1d. riment. Now, let us turn a moment to the other particular-the eternity of an existence hereafter. This is a matter of simple revelation. Every one allows, that with respect to the future state of man, whether as a believer or not, eye hath not seen its objects, ear hath not heard its language, neither hath the heart of man conceived one perfect idea concerning it. Take away revelation, and the existence of such a state would be entirely unknown. But revelation has given us to understand that man on earth is but the chrysalis of himself; that he is formed for scenes and pursuits as different from those which at present occupy him, as the free air and sunshine in which the beautiful and sylph-like butterfly disports herself upon her radiant wings, amid an atmosphere of splendour and fragrance, is different from, and superior to, the dull, dark, and webcovered recess in which that butterfly's unsightly and inactive embryo had instinctively concealed itself. It is a question we desire to have answered by any careful and candid individual, whether man believes this, or whether the expostulation of the prophet Hosea might not be addressed to the world, as well as to the Jews: "I wrote unto them the great things of my law; but they were counted as a strange thing." Assuming, for the sake of argument (for, indeed, we must make it matter of assumption), that credit were given to the general declarations of God's word on the subject of man's immortality, what effect might we expect to perceive? Surely, if there be any analogy in the feelings and conduct of man, we should see his hopes, his fears, his efforts, his desires, his very being, thrown forward into futurity. The common N expression of human feeling would be found in those words, I count "the sufferings" and the pleasures, the losses and the gains, the charms and the horrors, of this present time, "not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us." "Forgetting the things that are behind, we reach forward to those things that are before, towards the prize of our high calling of God in Christ Jesus." But where shall we find sentiments worthy of such expressions as these? Here and there, perhaps, a solitary individual cherishes in his bosom, and avows in his discourse, such high and distant objects; and for this the shrewd, sensible, business-like world think him a visionary and an enthusiast, and are ready to say of him, as was said to one who had been proclaiming this very doctrine of a future immortality, "He is beside himself; much learning hath made him mad." Such is the marked difference between faith and sense as it respects the feelings and the actions of men. The fact is, sense is the vital principle of the movements of this world; or, at all events, credence is only given to those statements which set forth things existing in the present, and affecting the present; and with respect to the revelations which profess to bear Divine authority, and which dwell upon things future and hitherto unexplored, we are compelled to confess, in behalf of our species, that they are "children in whom there is no faith." There is nothing which places the human character in so humbling a point of view as the recognition of this peculiar deficiency, the absence of faith. Through it man exhibits himself in the light of an animal, and one who prefers remaining an animal to rising into any of the higher classes of intellectual being. It thrusts from him all the privileged part of his destiny. He would tear out of his history pages descriptive of the mysterious interest which the Godhead, in its united Persons, has taken in his condition; pages which are studied with the deepest attention by the angels that excel in knowledge, wondering, and asking, "What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou so regardest him?" What is the peculiarity of that child of dust that has attracted and kept the love, the patient, persevering, enduring, suffering love of his Maker? Surely the mystery must be tenfold increased to angels, when they perceive that man not only possesses positively nothing to attract love, but does every thing in his power to repulse it; that, in truth, he does not believe in the love of God, does not realise the suffering, and the sacrifice, and the effort, which that love induced God to make in his behalf; and, what is more, does. not value, does not give credence to, the reality of the glorious possession, in the recovery of which the labour was undertaken, and the suffering endured. His mind and heart are bound up in the life which he now lives in the flesh,-the only science which he plies with assiduity and interest is that which enables him to find an answer to the question, "What shall we eat, or what shall we drink, or wherewithal shall we be clothed?" It is a painful and an abasing truth, that such has ever been the characteristic of our race from the time that all flesh corrupted its way upon the earth; and judging from the aspect of the present, what prospect can we entertain for the future? what answer can we venture to return to the question, "When the Son of man cometh, shall he find faith on the earth?" It would be unprofitable to point out a misfortune, or a delinquency, if it were only for the purpose of lamenting it. Were there no help for the evil, I would not have said so much upon so distasteful a subject as the general infidelity of mankind. But I know that the evil is not incurable; I know that there is a remedy which some have already tried, and which all who do try have found, and will find, efficacious. I would have my readers believe that the moral incapacity of which I have been speaking is a matter of choice. Men prefer being blind to the truth, otherwise "frowardness" could not, as it is in the Scripture, be justly associated with unbelief. Only let a man, acknowledging this propensity, put himself into the hands of God; only let him take the plain steps which God's word dictates, and which God's Spirit will render successful, and the natural indisposition of his sinful heart will be neutralised; and truly blessed will his condition become, when he is made a faithful partaker of the truth as it is in Jesus. I should feel abundantly satisfied, and greatly thankful, if, in these remarks, I may have succeeded in opening the eyes of any to the fact of the general prevalence of unbelief as a characteristic of the human heart. I am persuaded that many would be alarmed and shocked if they could realise their true state in the sight of God. I see a multitude of professing Christians asleep as to the true nature and danger of their condition; and I would awaken them before they are aroused by a less friendly monitor. They think that an outward shew of reverence to God, in numbering themselves among his people, and giving him a weekly allowance of barren attention and heartless homage, which they can well afford without encroaching upon the indulgence of a single earthly desire, or the devotion to a single worldly object, they the soul, of a future state, of the resurrection of the dead, or of reunion with their deceased friends in another world. It will tend to increase our feelings of gratitude to God for the volume of revelation, to consider this affecting view of the subject more at large in this place. They who are conversant with the writings of the early philosophers and poets of the heathen world, cannot fail to have remarked the frequent and vague allusions to the immortality of the soul and a future state. It is a reasonable presumption, that these uncertain speculations, and aspirations after immortality, were the feeble relics of prithe human race, and which was originally derived from divine revelation. The infidel Lord Bolingbroke partly ascribes the belief of the soul's immortality to the strong desire of continuing to exist, which is natural to the human mind. "And," it may justly be demanded, "would the Author of our being have so constituted us, if the object of this desire were vain, and if there were no future existence to expect? Is not this powerful desire or expectation of immortality, which is implanted in the human heart, an argument that He that made us formed and designed us, not merely for this present state and transitory life, but for a future state of existence?" It is painful to remark how soon that depravity which indisposed mankind "to retain God in their knowledge," led mitive tradition received from the first ancestors of think that this is faith. And I tell them, and I prove to them, that this is not faith. The children of Israel laboured under just the same delusion, and suffered for it; they prided themselves on their name of Israel; their exclamation was, "The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord are we." But they fancied they could unite the faith of God with the worship of the world. They fancied that if they sometimes worshipped before the altar of the Lord in Jerusalem, they might also bow themselves to the golden calves that were in Bethel and in Dan. Nay, it may be said, but this was idolatry. The worship of the world, under whatever form, is idolatry, and proceeds from infidelity to God. I do not accuse such of worshipping the golden calf; but the gold of which the calf was made may still be their idol, and worshipped with as sincere and hearty devotion as when it took the form of the gods of Egypt, and was fumed with incense, and invoked with supplications. I them to corrupt and extinguish the light which pointed would not have any go on in this world, still them to a future state of existence: "they became less would I have you go out of this world, vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was with a lie in their right hand. There is a darkened; professing themselves to be wise, they small corps in the army of Satan upon earth became fools" (Rom. i. 21, 22). How profound was of avowed infidels, who raise the black flag future state, will be evident from the doubt and unthe ignorance of the heathen, as to the doctrine of a of open and determined opposition to the certainty with which the most eminent of their phiname and things of God: but the main bulk losophers express themselves concerning it. Socrates, of his army consists of practical unbelievers; the first among the Greeks who made morals the proper and only subject of his philosophy, in one place those who say they know God, but in works says, "The soul which gives itself up to the study of deny him, and who march under the coloured wisdom and philosophy, and lives abstracted from the banners of a religious profession and a worldly body, goes at death to that which is like itself— divine, character. From the ranks of this army, immortal, wise; to which when it arrives, it shall be they who call themselves Christ's "soldiers happy, freed from error, ignorance, fears, disorderly loves, and other human evils; and lives, as is said of and servants" must come out and be separate, the initiated, the rest of its life with the gods." This or they will be amazed and confounded to philosopher, however, considered this happy state of find that, notwithstanding all their expecta- existence after death as the peculiar and exclusive tion of acquittal and justification, they will privilege of such only as had made advances in the study of philosophy; he mixes up this doctrine with be convicted of nothing short of infidelity, the absurd notion of the transmigration of souls. Of and reap the fearful consequences that belong the common sort of good and virtuous men, he says, to those who claim that character. There" they go into the bodies of animals of a mild and must be something far more substantial than a name; there must be the full proof of discipleship, there must be the solid works of faith as a testimony to its principle, or there can be no portion or lot whatever in the real, perceptible, permanent blessings which are the heritage of the faithful. THE HOPELESS SORROW OF THE HEATHEN From the "Mutual Recognition and exalted Felicity of interesting subject: we cordially recommend it in an especial manner to the perusal of those who mourn the departure of Christian friends. social kind, such as bees, ants, &c.; but none is admitted to the fellowship of the gods but a lover of knowledge." The "ifs" of this great philosopher in his last discourse, when he was near death, plainly shew that, although he expressed a hope of the immortality of the soul, it was but a matter of conjecture and doubt. "That these things," said he, "are so as I have represented them, it does not become any man of understanding to affirm." In his apology to his judges, he thus consoles himself in the prospect of death: "there is much ground to hope that death is good; for it must necessarily be one of these two; either the dead man is nothing, and has not a sense of any thing, or it is only a change or migration of the soul hence to another place, according to what we are told. If there is no sense left, and death is like a profound sleep, and quiet rest without dreams, it is wonderful to think what gain it is to die; but if the things which are told us are true, that death is a migration to another place, this is still a greater good." "If," remarks one, "if Socrates were thus uninformed, and if Plato, who has preserved his speech to the judges as the noblest effort of this most transcendent mind, could advance no further; if desire after endless life, scarcely irradiated with one beam of hope, was all that these sovereigns in intellect could indulge, after the most unwearied and painful researches,-we may fairly conclude that, in the temple of nature, there is no oracle to announce to man his future destiny." The sentiments of the philosophic and eloquent Tully are affecting, as supplying further proof of what has been remarked of Socrates. "O illustrious day," exclaims Tully, "when I shall go hence to that divine council and assembly of souls, when I shall escape from this crowd and rabble! For I shall go not only to those illustrious men, of whom I have before spoken, but also to my Cato, than whom one more excellent or illustrious in goodness was never born." But at the same time that the soul of Tully was animated by such a hope, it is affecting to remark the doubt with which he declares that hope: "If I err in this, that I believe the souls of men to be immortal, I err willingly; nor do I wish an error to be wrenched from me, in which I delight, while I live." Whatever might be the speculations and hopes of a few heathen philosophers and poets, the belief of a future state was generally discarded among the Greeks and Romans. Plato admits that what Socrates taught on this subject "met with little credit among men;" and that a contrary opinion, of the soul's being blown away and perishing with the body, generally prevailed. Polybius complains, that in his time the belief of a future state was rejected by the great men and the great bulk of the people, and ascribes to this disbelief the prevailing corruption of manners. Pliny, the naturalist, represented the doctrine of the soul's immortality as an absurdity: "These," he says, are childish and senseless fictions of mortals, who are ambitious of never-ending existence." He reckons it among things beyond the power of God" to raise the dead" (revocare defunctos). When St. Paul preached to the philosophers at Athens "Jesus and the resurrection," so novel and singular did the doctrine of the resurrection appear to them, that they imagined when the apostle used the words Ιησους and Αναστασις, he was proposing a new god and goddess for their worship! How profound the darkness which covered the heathen world, as to the immortality of the soul and a future state, will appear from the writings of the poets, who were the chief instructors and prophets of the people. They generally speak of death as eternal sleep," an utter extinction of being. A Greek poet thus laments over his friend : ❝ an "The meanest herb we trample in the field, Moscпus, Epit. Bion, translated by Gisbourne. Many similar passages might be given here from other heathen poets. With great truth, then, did St. Paul represent the heathen, on the death of their beloved friends, as "sorrowing as those which had no hope." They could not extend their views beyond the narrow boundaries of mortality; all beyond the grave was dark and impenetrable to them. The pang of separation from the friends they loved was alleviated by no certain hope of a state after death, or of reunion with the deceased in another world. We have a mournful illustration of the truth of these remarks in the letter addressed to Cicero by his friend Sulpicius, to console him for the loss of a beloved daughter; and in Cicero's answer. These beautiful and touching letters of two distinguished philosophers supply an instructive and affecting comment on the apostle's expression relative to the heathen, who, on the death of their friends, "sorrowed as having no hope." The philosophy in which they gloried could not dispel the shadows of death • De Senectute, sec. xxiii. and the grave. In all the topics of consolation offered by Sulpicius to his bereaved friend, there is a mournful silence as to the immortality of the soul, a future state, and recognition and reunion after death - here we are unable to discover even the feeblest expression of a hope beyond the grave. How mean and inefficacious to assuage the anguish of a bereaved heart are all the motives to resignation set forth in these letters, when contrasted with those presented in this single passage of holy Scripture: "I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not even as others which have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God; and the dead in Christ shall rise first: then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Wherefore comfort one another with these words" (1 Thess. iv. 13-18). Biography. THE LIFE OF THE REV. RICHARD NEWTE, Rector of Tidcombe and Clare portions of Tiverton, Devonshire. [I have already ventured to bring before the readers of the "Church of England Magazine" the memorials of two or three of those excellent men who lived in the troublous times, when to be attached to the Establishment was regarded as a mortal crime, and surely entailed on an individual persecution and the spoiling of his goods. I am far from wishing to revive any of those unkind and unquiet feelings, which it were better for ever to bury in oblivion, as not to be even named among Christians; but it is very desirable that the facts of history should be known, and that the present generation should be aware of the sufferings of their fathers, both that they may guard against the evil which heretofore so fiercely assailed our Zion, and that they may the more gratefully acknowledge the good hand of God in having hitherto helped us. I am indebted to Walker's "Sufferings of the Clergy" for the narrative to which I now invite attention; and I feel persuaded that it will be perused with interest, and that my readers will sympathise with the trials of Richard Newte. S.] He was born in Tiverton, and educated at Exeter college in Oxford, of which he became fellow, and was afterwards a noted tutor in that house, as likewise chaplain to the Lord Digby. In 1611 he was admitted to these two rich portions of his native place, where he continued a constant preacher for about two years, by which time the rebellion, and consequently the miseries and devastations of war, having spread themselves over all the kingdom, he resolved to travel; and having for that purpose obtained his majesty's license, and taken care to substitute a loyal and learned person in his cures of Tiverton, he set out first for Holland, in company of the most learned Dr. Pocock, Dr. Lockey, and some other very learned persons of this kingdom: from Holland they went to Flanders, and from thence to France, where Mr. Newte made a considerable stay, met with several of the English gentry and clergy who had fled thither from the rebellion, and held several disputes with divers Roman Catholics concerning the great corruptions and innovations of that Church. Once, more particularly, it was his lot to manage the argument in |