THE CABINET. PROVISION FOR DEATH. PERPETUAL pleasures surround the throne of God. But what has man to do with themes so high, and so little in harmony with his actual condition? Look at him in the guise he wears. Does he seem like an aspirant to immortality and glory? Is such a one as HE, indeed, on his way to the royal abode of universal dominion? Is not his eye anxiously fixed upon the low path he is treading? Is not his brow knit with care, and soiled with degrading labour? Is he not in heart, ignoble? Is he not emaciate? Are not his garments worn,-his feet lacerated, his provision corrupted? Yes:-and has not his spirit bowed to the humiliation of his lot, so that he even consents to the scorn that belongs to it?— All this is true, and more might be said; nevertheless, man must not surrender his pretension to the heavens. He has a special reason for his hope,-a reason stronger than all contradictions. The capital purposes of the present scene of things, demand that even the christian should be left to approach the very verge of another state, in ignorance of what it is that awaits him; that is to say, of its circumstances-mode of existence -transactions-society. He is assured of the fact of continued consciousness; and the spiritual rudiments of that after-state are also made known to him: but nothing more. This ignorance, which, to the irreligious, is the occasion of desperate and stupid insensibility, in treading upon the brink of the invisible world, gives rise, in the heart of the christian, to a trembling awe, and a dread expectation. His firm and matured belief of immortality, quite forbids that he should, as others do, throw himself reckless from the shore of life. Now this blank ignorance of the world into which he is so suddenly and so soon to enter, is plainly intended to throw the christian ingenuously, and without distraction, upon those very emotions which the unseen world is to call into exclusive activity. What can the dying believer do, uninformed as he is, of the way he is to tread,—his foot advanced, though the ground on which it is next to rest is unseen,―what but recur to the rudiments of his hope? What but look to the PRECURSOR, who is also the Lord of that unseen world? As matter of fact, the dying expressions of multitudes of the faithful in every age, have exemplified the fitness of this provision to the occasion. If a solemn renewal of repentance is proper to the hour of death,-if an explicit and fervent challenge of the Divine mercy is proper to it, these acts are not enough to impart confidence and joy, or even always a settled tranquillity. The palpitating heart must appropriate the personal affection of the Redeemer to his people. This APPROPRIATION is the secret of dying. The human mind, when once thoroughly occupied by a benign affection, specially fixed upon its object, can meet any danger,―can brave any dismay. History abounds with illustrations of this fact ;it is a capital law of our nature. Men, nay, women, thus animated, have forgotten all fear, and carried themselves through fields of death as calmly as if they had none but an ethereal frame. Those who would blame, as enthusiastic or presumptuous the fervour and spe. ciality of devout affection, such as eminent christians have expressed in their dying moments, know nothing of christianity beyond the bare story they read in the gospels; and nothing of human nature (or of human nature as affected by religion,) beyond what belongs to the most servile sentiments. If multitudes of those who receive christian burial, because they have received christian baptism, die joyless, and disappear from the upper air as if sinking in a stagnant pool, it is not the fault of christianity. Christianity meets us when most of all we need its aid; and meets us too with the very aid we need. It does not tell us of the splendours of the invisible world; ut it does far better, when in three words it informs us, that to loosen from the shore of mortality, is to be with Christ!' This is precisely the assurance which the occasion demands; for it not only quickens the devout affections, but it fixes them on their object. Whoever has truly admitted the emotions peculiar to christian faith, desires nothing more than is conveyed in this pregnant phrase. All security and all joy are comprised in the idea of beholding and of approaching the Son of God,—the Son of man, now exercising universal dominion;—and especially ruling the world of spirits. "If I go away, I will come again to receive you to myself:"-this, and some parallel expressions, though they have a primary reference to a future signal event, may, on no very slender grounds, be interpreted as conveying a promise to individuals,—as if the Shepherd of the sheep were wont in person to meet the new-coming spirit at its entrance upon the realm of peace. Be it so or not, it is clear that the faithful are authorised to entertain the well-defined hope-the hope of the heart-if the heart be indeed renewed, of coming at death into the sensible presence of the Saviour. What is the dread or reluctance of nature, if the christian in closing his eyes upon the world, can fix them on the Divine DELIVERER, and say: "Thou wilt show me the path of life."- Saturday Evening. Poetry. THE PRAYER OF THE MARINER'S MOTHER. By Rev. J. LONGMUIR, A. M., Mariners' Parish, Aberdeen. "A woman's feeble cry may have overruled the elemental war." The tempest round the cottage roars, And bends the aged ash; The casement shakes-a deluge pours And livid lightnings flash. Poor sailor! in this midnight hour, How canst thou stand the tempest's power! Thy mother, startled from her sleep, Thinks of her boy, far on the deep, And, succour to implore, Falls on her knees before His throne, She prays to Him who dried her tears, To Him, who chased the boatmen's fears, To Him that walk'd Gennesar's wave, Cold infidel!-thou sneer'st to see Who, thinking on a rocky lee, Prays Heav'n her boy to bless. 'Tis well thou laugh'st not at her care, But at the folly of her prayer. Oh! know'st thou not she prays to Him, Whose will, around the ocean's brim, He checks the blast-a zephyr blows- Borne on the wings of Jesus' name, Prayer mounts above the storm; Moves Him that moves creation's frame, To listen and perform! Thus feeble woman, on her knees, Can hush the storm, and calm the seas. Yes-covenanted power is her's, And faith her fear allays. Sailor! rejoice, when danger stirs, To think thy mother prays! And when thou gain'st the peaceful shore, With her thy Saviour's love adore! THE GLOBE. By calculation, it is found, Water the largest tract. Go, stand upon the ocean's shore; And this will prove the fact. Launch out upon the sea's vast space; Outside the earth extends the air- Although we don't perceive it. Fire is a substance shining bright; And brightens up our view. Behold the clouds above your head; What great improvements have been made Who can unnumber'd numbers count? God only knows the sum; For He has made them all,— Upholds them lest they fall; CRITICAL NOTICES OF WORKS. ROMANISM AND ANGLO-CATHOLICISM. LECTURES by JOSEPH SORTAIN, A. B. of Trinity College, Dublin, and Minister of North-street Chapel, Brighton. pp. 296. 8vo. London :-Ward and Co., Paternoster-row. Brighton :-J. Taylor, and E. Burns. Every system, whether of truth or error, is marked by certain great features peculiar to itself, and distinguishing it from every other. Now it would not be difficult to give the more prominent characteristics of POPERY ;—for these after the lapse of so many ages, have become fixed and unchangeable. But the features of the OXFORD DOCTORS have not yet been fully developed. So far, however, as they have been discovered, they bear a strong resemblance, not to what is CATHOLIC, but rather to what is ROMAN. And this, we confess, is their worst aspect. Anglo-Catholicism is but a modified, restricted, and suppressed Romanism;—it is an approximation to popery ;-its tendency is all in this direction. It is an attempt-a determined effort, (despite all the principles on which language is constructed, and all the laws by which it is governed,) to make the articles and homilies of the church of England as far as possible symbolize with those of the church of Rome, and thus prepare the way for the union of the two bodies. Who can doubt this, when Mr. Sortain informs us, that he heard an English clergyman broadly assert, in one of the metropolitan pulpits, that "the churches of England, of Rome, and of France, are one and the same." And, as he very justly adds, we may depend upon it, the elements are at present in solution;-the necessary precipitate is at hand." In the work before us, Mr. Sortain has taken up the main points of the papal heresy; and with great dexterity and power, has shown how far, or rather how near the Anglo-Catholic assimilates in doctrine, judgment, and practice. He does not hastily glance at the ground he disputes, and then leave it :—having girded himself for the conflict, he takes his stand, and will not recede. In other words, he has come to his task well prepared, and with his mind thoroughly furnished. His work exhibits great research, and no limited acquaintance with the subject of which he treats. Our only fear is, that the volume will not be found sufficiently popular. of some simple, yet effectual antidote, to the The people are in need deadly poison which so |