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Reginald Darcy, as we have seen, was not much given to theology; but he had a steady conviction of the excellence of his own church, and the absurdity of those who were endeavouring to approximate to Rome.

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"It certainly is very extraordinary," he replied; "for I confess I see nothing to attract or interest in either the Puseyite or Romish practices. There is nothing reasonable in them; nothing that comes home to one's understanding.? "Nothing, indeed," said the stranger; but there is much in them that is gratifying to the pride of human nature. The exaltation of the priesthood must be flattering to those of my own cloth who are not content to acknowledge themselves 'your servants for Christ's sake'; while the laity are consoled in their inferiority by having the satisfaction of looking down on all the protestant churches of Europe as out of the pale of salvation. With both parties pride is at the bottom of it all; especially in the denial of the doctrine of the extreme sinfulness of human nature, and of the necessity of the conversion of the heart."

Captain Darcy was startled. He began to fear his new acquaintance was, after all, one of the much-hated class. To do him justice, he had never in his life conversed with an evangelical clergyman; but he had a notion that they spoke in a whining tone, used a great deal of cant, and brought in scripture phrases in a ridiculous and inappropriate manner. The stranger had nothing of all this; but he spoke of the necessity of conversion as if it was a thing every one was expected to believe in. However, Reginald was determined to give the matter a candid investigation.

"You do not, surely, mean," he said, "that in our church we believe in the necessity of every one being converted, and that they are all originally in a sinful state? Those doctrines we leave to the methodists and dissenters."

"The articles are pretty strong upon those points," replied the clergyman, mildly: "most plainly does the ninth article warn us against the Pelagian heresy of believing we are born without sin, and tells us expressly, not only that every human being enters the world in a sinful state, but that the disposition or temptation to sin remains even in the regenerate."

and erring creature, I would give no opinion save where the lines of demarcation seem too plain to be ruistaken. But I think, my dear sir, there is, amongst a large class of well-meaning persons, a considerable degree of misapprehension with respect to what has been called the new birth, or the conversion of the heart; and I would not deny that, in listening to pious but ill-instructed persons, we should often have reason to think they give it, so to speak, an undue place amongst the Christian doctrines. It is required of men that they be Christians, believers in the truths contained in the scriptures, and, as our blessed Lord says, not only hearers of his word, but doers of the same; and, if we see a man to be such, or if he has reason on scriptural grounds to hope he is such, he need not feel uneasy because at no time of his life did he ever experience such a change as you speak of. On the other hand, if a man does not love the word of God, denies many of its doctrines, is not guided by his precepts, and, by loving the world and the things of the world, demonstrates plainly, according to the rule given in the first epistle of St. John, that the love of the Father is not in him, we cannot consider the fact of that person having been baptized to be any proof of his being regenerate: on the contrary, we can only feel it increases his responsibility; for, at the time of his baptism, it was promised for him (and you cannot claim the privilege without incurring the responsibility) that he would renounce the devil and all his works, believe in God, and serve him. Now, if we see him doing none of these things, how can we look upon him as a regenerate or converted man?"

66

Certainly the distinction you make seems a very reasonable one," said captain Darcy. Of course, if a man is a bad man, we can't but say he wants some sort of reform, or conversion, as I suppose you would call it."

"I call it conversion," said the stranger, "because I think reform applies only to an outward change, and conversion to a change of heart; and I consider a bad man requires nothing else than a complete change of heart to enable him to become a Christian. Now, the point at issue, probably between us at this moment would be, not whether a man ought to be a Christian, but what we mean by that epithet. In the first place, we should both agree in this-that he must believe the bible."

"Undoubtedly," said Reginald: "no man can be called a Christian who does not do so."

"Well, then, my dear sir, if we believe the bible-that is, believe it to be the word of God"Yes, a certain degree of sinfulness may we must be satisfied to acquiesce in all it says, remain; but still you do not deny that baptized whether it may be agreeable to our feelings or persons are, in the main, regenerate? You do not. Now, we must remember that the scriptures not believe, like the methodists, in the necessity tell us, not only that we are sinners, but that we of some wonderful change at some one time of are such sinners-so weak, so miserable, so comone's life; which notions have given rise to all pletely without strength in ourselves-that we the absurdities so many wild sects are guilty of?" never can hope to please God unless it please him "I deny the grace of God to none whom I see to put his Holy Spirit into our hearts, enabling us living as though they possessed it," replied the to do what is right in his sight. Moreover, we stranger;" and I insist on the necessity of no must also admit-at least I would readily underchange in those whose conduct makes me hope take to bring forward many, many texts to prove and trust that they are Christians. I go no fur-it to you-that, supposing us to repent and deterther in judging others than our blessed Master has taught me to go; By their fruits ye shall know them'; and, on this point, being myself a weak

mine to serve God, still we cannot atone for the past by any amendment for the future; and also that we are told, He that keepeth the law, and

find instances of the bravest men, personally, as much tyrannized over by the world's opinion, as much swayed by its maxims, as much under the vassallage of fashion, following as tamely and ser

yet offendeth in one point, is guilty of all'; and which of us can venture to say he never offends in any one point? Thus we are as it were shut in, and without hope of salvation, so far as our own merits are concerned. But then comes the gospel scheme-vilely in its wake, as the weakest and most timid that great doctrine of justification by faith, the keystone of Christianity, so inestimably precious to our reformed church-Christ dying for our sins, the just for the unjust,' that whosoever be lieveth on him should not perish, but have everlasting life': when we were without strength, Christ died for the ungodly,' and those who come to him he will in no wise cast out.'"

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SKETCHES.

BY THE REV. DENNIS KELLY, M.A.,

Minister of Trinity Church, Gough-square, Fleet

street.

No. XLVII.

MORAL COURAGE.

"Now from the dust of ancient days bring forth
Their sober zeal, integrity, and worth:
Courage, ungraced by these, affronts the skies,
Is but the fire without the sacrifice."

COWPER.

of men-in short, as much afraid to think for themselves and act for themselves as any in exist ence. It is a fact, that you find no men more afraid of the world's opinion, more morbidly sensitive to its censures or to its ridicule, than some of the bravest men that ever lived, in so far as this animal courage or personal bravery is concerned.

What, then, is this moral courage? It must be some very noble quality which Christianity bas put so much honour upon, which it has recon mended as one of the highest virtues of the Chris tian character, and to the possession of which so much that is great and admirable in the history of man is to be traced. It is true greatness of soul, self-reliance, self-confidence. It is that kind of firmness which makes one abide in the path of duty, supported by conscious integrity, "mailed in his own virtue," unconcerned, unaffected by the sneers, by the vile suspicions, and the inuendos and slanders before which thousands quail. It is that firmness which makes a man fall back on his own resources, and maintain his ground boldly and unflinchingly in spite of the obloquy, ridicule, and misinterpretations of the world. It is that which emboldens a man to think for himself and to act for himself, and brave the charge of THERE never, probably, was a time when we heard singularity, unlike the majority of the world, who and read more about "moral courage" than the are timid, servile copyists, and dread the slightest present. There never was a time when we heard departure from precedent or received custom, be louder commendations upon it, or when more that custom ever so indefensible. Moral courage thought that they possessed it. It may be worth chooses a track for itself. "It follows not with while, therefore, to consider what this moral the multitude to do evil." It is nobly self-relying. courage, which thousands are so enamoured of It is sanguine and full of hope when others are really is, as well as what it assuredly is not. It desponding and downcast. It descries a bright may be necessary then to state, for the informa- gleam on the horizon when others see only thick tion of a good many, that moral courage is not clouds. It is bold and self-confident, self-relying, forwardness, impudence, and effrontery. Moral when others are hesitating and timid. Moral courage is not the insolence of one who thinks courage fears God, and fears nothing besides God that because he can speak with imperturbable It is calm as it is firm and unflinching, free from coolness he is a hero. It is, doubtless, very dif- excitement. It takes wisdom for its guide: it ferent from modest assurance, unabashed effron- takes a good conscience for its companion: it is tery, out-talking, and out-brawling: these, as animated and sustained by prayer. It is religion experience abundantly testifies, are rarely the that has held forth this quality in its brightest attributes of true courage, but are mostly a mask lustre. Christianity has produced the noblest worn to conceal timidity and want of real firma- examples of it on record. The very glory of ness. Neither is moral courage the same with Christianity, and one of the strongest presump mere animal or personal courage: I am not tive evidences of its heavenly origin, is the cast of amongst those who despise animal courage. I character which is the offspring and fruit of it think it, in many respects, a fine quality. We and that is one in which the virtue of moral may speak too contemptuously of it. But let me courage stands most conspicuous. This has been say that the man who by dint of animal courage a conspicuous quality in all the divinely-comcan calmly face a danger at which thousands missioned teachers of mankind. It shone highly would tremble, the man who can endure with-in apostles, martyrs, confessors, reformers. These out shrinking the pain under which others would writhe, does that, to say the least of it, which thousands could not do, and displays a sort of firmness that we can hardly help wondering at, if not admiring.

But certain it is, on the other hand, that this quality, the animal courage, is often found allied with an utter absence of true fortitude and greatness of soul. You frequently see a man of great animal or personal courage as much awed by the opinions of this world, as fearful of its frown or its laugh, as the most timid. You might easily

men presented a new phase of character unlike all the world had ever witnessed before, and which eclipsed its most favourite and boasted models. They presented the sublime moral spectacle of poor, weak, defenceless men, yet mighty in their integrity and in the goodness of their cause, setting themselves in hostile array against the whole world, all its state authority, its religion, its philosophy, fearlessly assailing that world, condemning its faults, pursuits, and pleasures, denouncing its vices, and that in the face of hatred, scorn, persecution, imprisonment,

and

signed to be a blessing, a help, nay the right hand of the kingdom. It is a lack of this virtue which chiefly prevents her from rising to her proper position. For, brave as that nation is, chivalrous, generous, and warm-hearted beyond all others, her sons are deficient in this quality-in moral courage; and this deficiency is their weakness. Yes they want self-reliance as a people. They want self-confidence. None require more than they to learn that "union is strength." They require to learn that a nation's strength and glory is to husband its own resources, to make the most of its own capabilities and advantages. Remember that that which makes a nation great is righteousness and equity, truth and loyalty and good order, industry and frugality and strict morals, bravery and chivalry. Some of these virtues thou dost already possess beyond all other people; and they are all within thy reach. There is no greatness or dignity superior to that which the possession of these virtues confers on a land; for these virtues bring the God of heaven himself over upon its side; that "God who putteth down one and setteth up another;" that God before whom the nations of the earth are but as the small dust of the balance. Be first in honesty, truth, justice, and loyalty, and thou art great. Dare to be great, and thou art great. Be independent in thought and feeling. Nature never designed thee to be the servile sycophantic imitator. Thou canst not play the part of the parasite: thine is not the cast of character for it: thou art unfit for the part. Thou art formed rather to be the patron, the most generous patron, than to be the patronized. Thou art formed rather to be a model thyself (however thou hast ignobly forfeited and cast away the honour) than to be an imitator of others. Thou shouldst aspire to a noble, generous, virtuous independence, rather than to be a dependant.

even death in its worst form. The world had never before witnessed magnanimity like this. It had never before seen human nature exalted to such a pitch of moral sublimity. It was this kind of courage which inspired the noble reply of the ancient father and defender of the faith, when he was warned that "all the world was against him"-"Then I am against the world." This was the quality which lent its spell to the character of Luther. It was in respect of moral courage that that remarkable man stood alone. The age has never seen any thing like the moral courage of that man. To judge of it aright we must recollect that the power which he assailed was widely different then from what it now is. It was the greatest, the most formidable dynasty that has ever been erected. We have no existing power that affords any thing like a parallel to it. It had made the kings of the earth to tremble and do homage to it*. It kept the consciences of millions enslaved. It ruled over the souls and bodies of men. And the man that could assail such a power, aim a deadly blow at it with his pany single arm, well knowing that, if it were indeed the cause of God he struck, he would be crushed as the moth, and wither under the divine maledictions as the wax melts before the fire-the man who could do this at a time when that power was the object of superstitious dread and veneration to millions, must have possessed a moral courage which the more we think of, the more we are astonished at it. Ah! well might the stalwart soldier, at the Diet of Worms, lay his hand upon the shoulder of the poor, wan, emaciated monk-yet strung to high endurance-and say, "They may talk of our courage: this is the true courage after all." Yes, that courage has achieved all which is most illustrious in human actions. It is moral courage which has won for men their liberty and their rights. It has burst the chains of slavery. It has put down tyranny, and "broken the rod of the oppressor." Moral courage has also accelerated the march of human improvement. It is to moral courage those great discoveries are mainly owing which have most contributed to the dignity and moral elevation of man. To that courage which made men think for themselves and inquire for themselves, untram-strength. melled by long-established opinions and theories. It is moral courage also that has peopled our solitudes and wastes, and raised cities and kingdoms in another continent-a new world. It was the moral courage and enterprise of those bravehearted men, the first settlers, who turned their backs upon and relinquished the refinements and comforts of civilization, and boldly faced the ocean and the desert, committing their way to him whom they took for their guide, trusting to his providence, and dismayed by no danger, deterred by no difficulty. This is the quality which makes nations great. This is the quality which is alone wanting to some lands to constitute them prosperous and influential and dignified. This is the quality the want of which we have to lament in that nation whose lot is linked and bound up with that nation which Providence deWho was I, to set myself up against the majesty of the pope? before whom trembled not only the kings of the earth and the whole world, but also, if I may so say, heaven and hell constrained to obey his nod" (Luther).

ours;

Learn to feel, then, thine own strength. Learn to appreciate thy talents and capabilities and resources, instead of servilely and idolatrously gazing upon the supposed superior attainments and accomplishments and address and manners of others. Look to thyself more and to others less. Self-respect, self-confidence, self-reliance, is thy

Be not

O learn the virtue of nationality; take a pride in all that is "thine own," instead of disparaging and scorning it, as thou hast hitherto done. Look with a fond and partial eye upon it, instead of joining in the laugh of derision against it. Learn to stand upon the basis of thine own strength and thine own resources and talents and energies. Instead of playing the part of the adulator and sycophant (a part which has made thee despised) aim to be thyself the object of admiration. Learn to stand alone. Lean not upon others. dissatisfied with all that is thine own, but have courage to carry the dictates of thine own clear sense to ripeness and perfection. This thou wantest; and this is what constitutes moral courage. This will open to thee the path to add strength to greatness. Thus shall "the wilderness blossom as the rose." Thus shall "the afflicted and tempest-tossed be comforted," and thou become a peaceful and a happy loyal land. Thine errors are chiefly those of judgment. These have made thee too long mistake thine enemies for thy

friends, and thy friends for thine enemies*. These have kept thee poor and weak and divided, "wearied in the greatness of thy way," with broken and scattered energies. O learn wisdom; concentrate thine energies; husband thy resources. Be it thy noble ambition to stand first in integrity, in honesty, in loyalty, chastity, fidelity, and generosity; and all other qualities, graces of manner or accent or articulation, all mere external accomplishments are but as paltry tinsel compared with pure, solid gold; for God himself will give thee greatness then.

Poetry.

LAYS OF A PILGRIM.

BY MRS. H. W. RICHTER.

(For the Church of England Magazine.) No. LXV.

THE ANCIENT MIRROR.

IN a grey old hall that mirror stood,
Within the oriel deep;
Darkened by the girdling wood,
Slow the branches sweep!
Flitting shadows on it fall,

Seeming, as they come and go,
Ever gliding to and fro,
On the past to call.

All things there now dimly tell
Of the years that fled away,
And of scenes remembered well
By the vassal old and grey :
Fair the colours once were laid
On the tapestry bright,
Shade still deepening into shade,
Softening dark to light:
Fairy fingers skilfully
Fashioned all the tracery.

Echoed once the forest old

With the hunters' early sound,
'Ere the morning mist had roll'd
From the grassy meadows round.
Why so silent lies the dell,

Where the meeting branches cling?
Only echoes answering tell,
Fleeting by is every thing.

Mirror, on thine ancient face

Fancy would old records trace:

The worst, the most fearful stain upon Ireland is the impunity with which the shedder of blood is so often suffered to escape; for there the murderer has been often screened. This is its crying sin; and not so much, either the number or the cold-blooded atrocity of its crimes. Few are less capable than the writer to offer an opinion on the subject of putting a check upon this horrible iniquity; but he thinks he at least goes on safe ground when he suggests that a hint might be borrowed from the method which God himself took to prevent the same crime in Israel. Deut. xxi. 1-7. If all were compelled, beginning with the priesthood themselves (protestant and Roman-catholic) to disclaim, under the imprecation of an awful anathema and malediction, publicly to disclaim not only all knowledge, but even suspicion, of the guilty parties, and this were rigorously enforced in every barony and in every townland, it would at least seem to bear some analogy to the expedient which Infinite Wisdom devised to cleanse the land of Israel from the stain of blood-guiltiness.

Fair the faces once reflected

From thy surface in their prime, Dreaming not, when worn, dejected,

Past would be that summer time. Soft the rosy hours were gliding, Life one sunny garden seem'd; Candid, gentle, and confiding,

Bright the glorious future gleam; Doubt or fear no whisper brought, Calm and guileless was each thought.

Now a shade is on that brow,

In the mirror seen :

Truth's clear light is shining now
Over life's young dream.

Closed long since is her bright day,
Hopes and fears have fled away:

Mirror, from thy deeps appear
Scenes of many a buried year,

Youth's bright eyes, that long havo slept;
Tears are gone that sorrow wept.

Here, some child, in sweet surprise,
Gazed upon her own fair face,
Imaged there, with laughing eyes,

Like some sylph, her early grace.
Now the sweeping shadows glide
Thro' the chambers dim and wide,
Telling that but for a day
Will the fairest vision stay.
Like that mirror is our life,

Showing scenes of varied hue-
Joy and sorrow, hope and strife,
Vanish'd, as the morning dew.
And we speed to regions new,
Where no change, no time will be :
Shadows all that we pursue,
Stamped with earthly vanity-

Save the hoarded hopes that rise, Far above the starry way;

Save the prayers that pierce the skies, Heard before the throne alway.

LONGING FOR THE HEAVENLY CANAAN.

BY THE REV. H. N. W. CHURTON.
HEAL my heart, thou gracious Saviour.
Health and blessing from thee flow:

Life is in thy loving favour;

Save my soul from endless woe!

Thou of Israel's rest wast Giver;

Lead me to the promised land;
Let each trembling, weak believer
Feel thy strong, upholding hand.
Thou art life's eternal Fountain;
Let thy praise my life employ;
Lead me to thy holy fountain,
God of my exceeding joy.

In thy love and endless pity,

Lead me, who in darkness roam
To thy saints' bright heavenly city-
To thine own eternal hoine.

* From the "Land of the Morning." Rivingtons. 1851.

HUGHES, 12, Ave-Maria Lane, St. Paul's; and to be London: Published for the Proprietors, by JOHN procured, by order, of all Booksellers in Town and Country

PRINTED BY ROGERSON AND CO.,
246, STRAND, LONDON.

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DEATHS OF EMINENT CHRISTIANS.

No. XII.

SIR PHILIP SIDNEY*.

(Died 1586, aged 32.)

THIS great man died of a wound in the thigh, received from a bullet at the battle of Zutphen. "As he was retiring," says his biographer, "from the field of battle, pale, languid, and thirsty, with excess of bleeding, he asked for water to quench his thirst. The water was brought, and had no sooner approached his lips, than he instantly resigned it to a dying soldier, whose ghastly countenance attracted his notice, saying, This man's necessity is still greater than mine.""

Sir Philip Sidney was an illustrious patriot and pious Christian. A soldier dying a Christian death is a noble and animating spectacle. The military character is then really great, when it is exalted by the genuine virtues of a Christian. Sir Philip retained a calm and undisturbed spirit, From "Last Hours of Christian Men: or an Account of the Deaths of some eminent Members of the Church of England;" by the rev. H. Clissold, M.A. London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge.

No. 928

and made a public confession of his faith to the holy ministers of religion who encircled his bed, to men eminent for their goodness and edifying piety. This confession is said to have been such as no book but the heart could truly and feelingly deliver. They afterwards accompanied him, at his own earnest request, in a devout prayer dictated by himself and uttered with much energy and affection, the free and fervent effusion of a heart deeply penetrated with a true sense of sin. "His sins," he said, "were best known to himself; and out of that true sense he was more perfectly instructed to apply the eternal sacrifice of our Saviour's passion and merits to himself."

In the course of his illness he introduced a topic of conversation, the most serious and sublime that can engage the attention of man-the immortality of the soul. The day on which he died he called for music to compose his disordered frame. His mind was soothed and tranquillized, anticipating, as it were, those delightful strains of celestial melody with which the angelic choir encompass the throne of God. With a patient submission to the divine will, he bade adieu to his most afflicted brother, in words which deserve to be engraven in letters of gold: "Love my memory: cherish my friends: their faithfulness to me may insure

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