thing like justice be done to the text, to not the followers of Mohammed, who are nearly a third part of the volume *; and accustomed to regard every word and

Thirdly, the pernicious consequences every letter in their sacred books with the to be apprehended from the exhibition of highest veneration, and denounce the most snch an accumulation of errors to the view awful penalties against whosoever alters of the Mohammedan world.

them, be inspired with the idea that the “ Bat the question may be put: Is it Christians think lightly of the Scriptures advisable in any case to publish tables of in which they profess to believe, and in errata along with editions of the Holy translating, and printing them, proceed Scriptures designed for popular use? upon principles of mere mercantile specuWhatever nse may be made of such tables lation? The assertion may, I believe, be by more enlightened readers, and how hazarded without any fear of contradiceasily soever they may be able to recon- tion, that the Bible Society durst not vencile them with the integrity of the Divine ture to circulate, even among professing Oracle, it is evident they will be viewed Christians, an edition of the Scriptures in a very different light by those of more which they have been taught to veuerate : limited habits of thought, and that their

as the infallible word of God, containing direct tendency on the minds of this class an exhibition of faults at all resembling of readers, is to shake, if not entirely to that which it is resolved to submit to the destroy, their belief in the doctrine of the inspection and contempt of infidels.' inspiration of the Holy Scriptures. The P. 57. following extract of a letter from one of As to the defence set up on the my correspondents at Astrachan, dated

score of the incorrectness of all May 7, 1822, fully proves the baneful in

first editions of a fuence of this proposed mode of emenda

new version, tion.

another argument urged in defence “« Some time ago two Georgians called of the version in question, Mr. on ns. the one was from the celebrated Henderson says, that there is nocity of Shiraz, the modern Areopagus of thing in the versions of Luther or Persia ; the other from Isphahan, the an- Wiclif “at all symbolizing with cient metropolis of that empire. The for- the work of Ali Bey,”-nay, that mer was servant to the Shah's son, the go in truth, the present version has not vernor of Shiraz. We inquired if he had heard any thing of the learned and pious even the plea of being a first version. Martyn? He said he had seen him; but “ Situated (Mr. Henderson remarks) as being a servant, he could not presume to I have been in Russia since the commence. speak with one who had admittance to his ment of tliis investigation, and necessarily master's table. He had been early carried prevented by my official duties from instiinto Persia as an exile, was compelled to tuting a collation, I am not prepared to give renounce the religion of his fathers, and any decided opinion respecting an original become a Mohammedan, but had recently relationship between the translation of Ali effected bis escape from the slavery of his Bey, and that published by Seaman ; but cruel oppressors. Being able to read Per. I strongly suspect, that great as is the sic, he had on a former occasion received discrepancy between them in point of a copy of the New Testament; bat, not style, and the rendering of particular pas. understanding the table of errata, he was sages, they will be found to have been alarmed lest it might be a false gospel he more or less connected with each other. had received from us ; and the inquiries At all events the Paris edition is not the which he made respecting the authenticity first edition of the New Testament in the of the Persic version, shewed the uneasi- Turkish language. That of Seaman, to ness which the errata had occasioned in which reference has just been made, was his mind.'

published at Oxford, in 4to, in the year “ Now it may fairly be asked: If such 1666. Of the version made by Brunton, was the effect produced by a table of er. chiefly with the aid of Seaman's, two edi. rata on the mind of one naturally partial tions bave appeared : the first at Karass, to Christianity, as a hereditary form of re- at the entrance of the Caucasus, in 1813, ligion, what must be its influence on those and the other at Astrachan, in 1818, both who are its determined enemies ? Must in 8vo. This latter version has been de.

signated The Tatar Testament, and the There is not a page, nor scarcely.a Nogai Testament, but I can assure the verse in the volume, that does not contain public there exists no translation of any something or other of an objectionable part of the New

Testament in the dialect nature,

of the Nogai Tatars, and the language

of the version is ju the strictest sense of our work. Wedo not profess in the the word Turkish, though in as plain a tecbnical sense, which the word has style as any ased in Turkish writiugs.

now acquired, to be Reviewers; but “ From this statement, it will be seen

when we have met with a work, whose that the Paris Testament, so far from being the first

, is in fact the fourth edition general design and principles we of the Turkish New Testament. Is it not approve, and the execution of which then matter of regret, that possessing, as upon

the whole appears to us to be the Committee did, access to at least iwo good, we are glad, and we think, of the preceding editions, they should not that we do no more than our duty, have availed themselves of the advantages to recommend it to the notice of our naturally to be expected from a collation of the texts they exhibit, but that,

on the readers, and to give them a brief

sketch of its contents. contrary, they should have been compro

The Widow's Tale falls precisely inised by the pnblication of an edition which not only sinks in comparison with within these predicaments.

It is a those which preceded it, but is totally tale of considerable interest, sweetly uufit for circulation under the name of the and simply told, breathing affecpure word of God? They are, to say the tionate feelings, and built upon releast, Christian translations. The version of Ali Bey is truly Mohammedan. Not to ligious principles. Perhaps, if we

were instituting a rigid examination, insist on the style, I may just observe here that it exhibits the Mohammedan God,

we might here and there require a Mohammedan genii, Mohammedan saints, little more fire and vigour, and might Mohammedan conversion, the Mohamme- object to the metre, which has pot dan faithfiel, the Mohammedan Scrip- nerve or strength or variety enough, tures, the Mohammedan Sabbath, the

to sustain a long narration. But Mohammedan Antichrist, and the Mo.

these observations would not only hammedan Paradise!" P. 60.

be out of their place here, but misAnd this is the versiout which the applied to their object. The book British and Foreign Bible Society lays no pretensions to a place among persist in circulating !!! Of the the bigher elasses of poetry: it perpurity of another Oriental version, forms what it professes, and it will the Arabic, very strong doubts are gratify those who are contented only entertained: the corruption of this is to expect from it a calm and soothsurely (unless Mr. Henderson can ing amusement for a leisure hour, be contradicted) placed beyond There are those, we imagine, both doubt ; what security then have we, in the higher and lower, the busy in the conduct of the Committee of and retired classes of life, to whoin the British and Foreign Bible So. pleasure of this sort is peculiarly ciety, for the purity of any other sweet. Such recreation is in acversion ?

cordance with the even tenor of some lives, and in pleasing contrast with

the agitated current of others. To The Widow's Tale and other Poems. those, indeed, who are busily en

By the Author of Ellen Fitz- gaged in the conflict of the world, arthur. 6s. 6d. London, 1822. there must be moments, when to

unbend the bow, and retire from the We promised our readers in a former tumult, must be especially delightful. Number a short notice of the poem, The very strain and exultation of the title of which stands at the head of the spirit, the brilliancy and dazzling this article, and we now sit down to glare of its pleasures, or the overredeem our pledge. After the ob- anxious importance of its pursuits, servations which we then made, it must require, at intervals, that sort will not be expected, that we should of amusement, which brings with it enter into any severe critical exami- all the refreshment of repose, withpatiou of this little voluine. Indeed, out the tedium of idleness. regular literary criticism can never We will not anticipate one part be the direct object of any part of of the pleasure of our readers, who may be induced by what we say, A little patch of shallow mould to have recourse to the poem itself, Was gay with flowers-there spik'd with

gold by analysing its story. It is in substance à tale of severe afflictions, And pinks and sweet valerian grew;

Tall rockets bloom'd, and burrage blue, borne cheerfully under the belief There thyme and penny-royal green, of a superintending gracious Provi. And balm and marjoram were seen, dence, and finally ending in that And many a herb of virtue known sort of alleviation, which, though it To rustic pharmacy alone. P. 1-3. cannot destroy the recollection of

It appears to us that there is the past, nor prevent an occasional

great poetic merit in this descripsigh for the blessings of which we

tion; without being unnecessarily have been bereft, yet sheds a gleam and tediously minute, it yet sets be. of sunshine over our declining days, fore us a number of features, which and makes us feel, that we are not

must strike forcibly every one who without the comforts of this life, has been a dweller or a wanderer in while it directs our main hopes to


scenery. It recalls to our another.

mind many a similar sunny spot; The poem opens with the follow. ing lines of beautiful description :- grey cottage perched on the ledge

we fancy we have seen the little The yellow beams of evening light of garden-ground on the side of the Down aspen glen were streaming bright : mountain, with its black-bird sing. On either side tall cliffs arose

ing over the door, and its gawdy In their deep shadows of repose,

flower-bed before it. But the beauty But catching lights, obliquely glancing, Touched many a crag's projecting edge, ber of the features painted and

of the description is not in the numAnd many a san-bright bouzh was dancing, worked up, but in the selection of

Outstarting from its rocky ledge. And a little stream from stone to stone, theun; they are such as set the readAs it leapt with mirthful music down, er's mind at work, and make him, Glittered and gleam'd in the slanting ray by the force of association, draw A scatter'd shower of diamond spray. for himself the complete picture Half down one rifted side was seen A little shelf—a platform green

which he most delights in. This is A nook of smiling solitude,

the great merit and excellency of Lodg‘d there in Nature's frolic mood.

poetic sketching; instead of preThere many an ash and aspen grey senting the same picture to every Prom rent and fissure forced it's way, body, which only those of accordAnd where the bare grey rock peep'd ant tastes can really derive pleasure through,

from, it contents itself with giving Lichens of every tint and hne, Marbling it's sides, and

only those materials from which stains

mossy Enseam'd their vegetable veins.

every person, however varying in The streamlet gush'd from that rocky wall, prepossessions, may frame for himAnd close beside it's sparkling fall self the picture which he most adA little cot, like a martin's nest,

mires. Clung to that lonely place of rest.

In the path leading to this little The living rock it's walls supplied cottage à traveller appears, “ in North, east, and south-the western side With fragments of the pale grey stone

coarse and tattered garb,” and lookWas rudely built, whose silv'ry tone

ing like a sailor returned from sea ; Contrasted with it's chaste repose

he is seated on the rock, and silently The holly-hock, and briar-rose.

contemplates the scene before him. Beneath the tbatch where woodbines clung, At the door of the cottage, placed In wicker cage a blackbird hung,

in a chair, is a blind old woman, And a ceaseless murmur met the ear and beside her a merry-hearted From the busy hum of a beehive near.

blue-eyed girl, who has just been In many a crevice of the rock The wall-flower and far-fragrant stock reading to her grandmother from Sprung up, and ev'ry here and there,

the Bible. The stranger approaches Collected with industrions care,

and is hospitably received ; it soon 3

appears that he had known, and row--such people, if they have any been a ship-mate of the old woman's hearts, cannot be merry and thoughtson Reuben, and after he has spoken less, but they may be very happy. of him and of bis death, of his own This is the scene and state of escape, his captivity and final re. things with which the poem closes ; turn, in tone of deep despondence, we will present it to our readers, and desolation of spirit, she tells to and leave it without a comment, for him the story of her own afflictious. it needs none. But when, in the course of it, it appears that the sweet child before

“ A black-bird in that sunny nook them is the orphan child of Reuben,

Hangs in his wicker cagebut look

What youthful form is her's, whose care the anxious and fearful father bursts

Has newly hung the fav’rite there? from his disguise, and falls upon

Tis Agnes-Hark that peal of bells, the neck of his mother, and folds It's Sabbath invitation swells, his daughter to his arms. He had And forth they come, the happy three, never seen his child, had heard of The reunited family. her birth, and never known her fate; The son leads on with cautious pace and had returned to his home, after

His old blind parent, in whose face years of absence, with the deep wish The bright reflexion yon may see

Age-worn and care-worn thongh it be, in his heart to find her alive, and

Of new-born happiness—and she doubting whether the child before with restless joy who bounds along, , him was his own, yet too painfully Beginning oft the oft check'd song. anxious to dare to ask the question (Check'd by remembrance of the day) explicitly. Few of our readers but A moment then, less wildly gay, must have been in situations to feel She moves demurely on her way,

Clasping her new-found father's hand. something of this, in kind, though

But who can silence at command not in degree. Wordsworth's ex

The soaring sky-lark's raptarous strain? quisite poem of the Two Brothers, The mountain roe-buck who can rein? is founded on th

same weakness Agnes' gay spirit bursts again the human heart-we talk of the Discretion's bounds—a cob-web chainmisery of suspence, yet, when the And off she starts in frolic glee,

Like fawn from short restraint set free. moment of certainty is come, when our hands are on the curtain, and No painful retrospect annoys.

Go happy child-thy present joys we may draw it aside at pleasure, But they who follow thee, look back we tremble to make the disco. On long afflictions gloomy track, very, we bave recourse to devices of

Where many they have lov'd right dear all kinds ; perhaps we shriuk back Arc left behind—if they were here into the very uncertainty that ap- is all its language: gratefully

Thought whispers--but a low-breath'd sigh peared but a moment before so

To the Lord's Temple they repair, painful to us.

To pour out thanks and praises there Here, however, the discovery is For present blessings--for past pain, one of pure delight, pure in kind, Not dull oblivion to obtain, though chastened by the recollec- But resiguation—and to find tion of all the preceding calamities That holy calm, that peace of mind they have undergone. The old wo

By whiclı e'en here on earth is given man has descended from compe

A foretaste of the joys of Heaven." tence and plenty to a lowly cottage; she stands alone bereft of her hus. band, all those of her own generation, and of all her children and

Six Lectures on the Penitential descendants, but Reuben and his

Psalms. By the Rev. Edward daughter. Reuben has no one on

Berens. 12mo. pp. 74. 18. 6d. earth to cling to but his mother and

boards. Rivingtons, 1823. his child; and for many years he has been the sport of peril and sor. We noticed the publication of these Lectures in our last Number, and " The Psalmist, however, is not so en. begged to defer our consideration of tirely engrossed by his own case, and his them to the present. They are

own personal need of the divine mercy, as

to be rendered unmindful of the public written in the same plain and easy welfare. In other places he shews the style that forms the charm and re

warm interest which he took in the prosconimendation of Mr. Berens' for. perity of his people. "O pray for the mer publications; and will be read peace of Jerusalem; they shall prosper with equal pleasure and edification. that love thee. Peace be within thy walls

, A Lecture is allotted to each Psalm : and plenteousness within thy palaces * the occasion of the Psalm, as far And thus in the Psalm before us, after his

earnest supplications for mercy and for. as it can be gathered with any cer- giveness, and for spiritual aid to himself tainty, is first stated; the verses

in particular, he subjoins a petition for the are successively explained and en. welfare and happiness of his country. In forced, and the whole is sur med like manner should we, actuated by a up in each case with an appropriate spirit of Christian patriotism, raise our admonitory conclusion. The fol- voice to God in prayer and supplication,

not for onrselves alone, not for our own lowing extract, from the fifty-first friends and relations merely, but also for Psalm, will put our readers in

the prosperity of our countrymen in genesufficient possession of the plan ral, for the well-being and godly ordering adopted;

of the church and nation to which we

belong. “ 15. Thou shalt open my lips, O 18. O be favourable and gracious Lord; and my mouth shall shew thy

unto Sion; build thou the walls of Jerupraise.

salem. “ 16. For thou desirest no sacrifice, else

« 19. Then shalt thou be pleased with would I give it thee ; but thou delightest

the sacrifice of righteousness, with the not in burn-offerings. * The sacrifices of the Jewish ritual they offer young bullocks upon thine altar.

burnt-offerings and oblations ; then shall were prescribed by God bimself, and could

* When the hearts of his worshippers not be neglected without disobedience to

are properly disposed by penitence and his authority. In themselves, however,

contrition, then especially is God wellthey were weak and ineffectual; they were pleased with the performance of external appointed principally, if not entirely, for

ordinances, with the public exercise of the legal defilements, not for such crying sins offices of religion. as those of which David had been guilty.

“ Let us endeavour, my friends, to cul• It was not possible for the blood of bulls tivate in ourselves that spirit of humility and of goats to take away sin *; and these

and penitence, which are so forcibly exsacrifices derived whatever virtue they pressed in this beautiful Psalm. Let us possessed from the divine appointment, fervently beseech God to “ wash us thoand from their being designed to pre roughiy from our wickedness, and to cleanse figure, to shadow forth, the great sacri

us from our sin,' by the atoning blood of fice of the death of Christ. Certainly God his dear Son; and to create in us a new delighted not in burnt-offerings, though

heart, and to renew a right spirit within instituted by himself, so much as he de

us,' by the sanctifying influences of the lighted in genuine and sincere repentance.

Holy Ghost. And let us shew the truth of “ 17. The sacrifice of God is a troubled

our repentance, and the sincerity of our spirit; a broken and a contrite heart, O God, shalt thou not despise.

prayers, by steadily endeavouring for the

time to come to persevere in all righteous. “ Humility and coutrition of soul are

ness and godliness of living, and relying placed by our Lord himself, in the very on divine aid to amend our lives according front of the beatitudes, in the Sermon on

to his holy word.” P. 36. the Mount; Blessed are' the poor in spirit; blessed are they that mourn.' And

We have met with but one pastwice is it declared by the prophet Isaiah, sage in which we could wish an "To this man will I look, saith the Lord, alteration, or rather addition, it is even to him that is poor, and of a contrite rather unguarded, as it appears to spirit, and that trembleth at my word ti' us in its present form, and has a

*Ps. cxxii. 6,7.

. Heb. X. 4. #Isa. Ixvi. 2. lvii. 13. REMEMBRANCER, No. 62.


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