other. And as the latter stood affected towards him whom he thought he knew so well, so he doubtless did towards the high and holy ministrations in which that great prophet was employed. To Gehazi, the whole was matter merely of excitement, curiosity, and amusement. He saw the miracles, but they neither awed nor solemnized his spirit; nor had they a voice in his ears to say;

:

This is the finger of God'-' Draw not nigh hither: put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place on which thou standest is holy ground.' To his mind they were but mere display: things in which he delighted as proofs to the multitude how great a man his master was; and, consequently, how great a man his chosen follower must be. Thus insensible to the glorious manifestation itself, and alive only to its effects on others, what he regarded in the wonders which the prophet wrought was not the power of God, but the surprise which appeared on the face of the spectators; or the hope that he would come in for some share of the credit which such performances must be sure to gain. Had Elisha been distinguished in any secular department, it would have been all the same to Gehazi. He would have followed him as closely, and been as sedulous about him, amidst the din of arms, or the intrigues and ceremonials of the court. It was by accident that he became an agent in religious matters. It was the thing which came first to his hand and he was busy there, not because he preferred spiritual to secular concerns, but because it was his nature and his instinct to be busy somewhere. Alas! How many Gehazis are there in our own times! How many are there who run from meeting to meeting, merely that nothing may go on without them; -who cry up preachers, and regard not what they say; who arrange the seats, and count the numbers that attend at lectures, and scarcely know what those lectures are about! How many are there who seem to rejoice like the angels over one sinner that repenteth; but never think of repenting themselves! How many are there who are all alive, and all in motion, upon the arrival of some pious stranger, some missionary from abroad, soine man of God whose praise is in the churches; who seek his acquaintance, claim his friendship, and lead him about in triumph from house to house; and yet have never come in contact with his spirit, or asked him the question, so needful in their case, What must I do to be saved.'”

From the chapter on the miseries

"An humble estimate of ourselves does not merely remove many obstacles to our advancement in life: it gives a freshness to the current of our being, which a soul so tempered alone can feel. In this respect, the meek, in a peculiar sense, inherit the earth. They enjoy, habitually, what others never can experience, but on some new, unexpected, and favourable change of circumstances. All that they have, and all that they are, whatever it may be, exceeds their calculations: and while others are wondering why fortune has not sent them more; they are filled with mingled gratitude and surprise, that God should have blessed them with so much. All true relish for

life is lost by him who has been taught the habit of unreasonable expectation. He knows not how good and how pleasant a thing it is to be thankful: nor bath it entered into his heart to conceive, in what a spirit the Patriarch thus cast the sunshine of his own mind upon the path by which the hand of God had led him. I am not worthy of the least of all the mercies, and of all the truth, which thou hast shewed unto thy servant; for with my staff I passed over this Jordan; and now I am become two bands.' In life, as in the landscape, it is not so much the objects we contemplate, as the light in which we view them, that touches the springs of joy within us, and fills the soul with gladness. In vain does nature open out her fairest scenes, and group her finest features in every felicity of combination, if clouds obscure the day, and damp, ungenial vapours load the atmosphere, and hover in the air. While, on the other hand, the simplest prospect that meets our view, the general landscape, — the common fields of universal nature,can brighten into paradise at the presence of the sun, when his beams give warmth and elasticity to the air, and when his light is poured along the plains, and scattered upon the hills. So it is with the life of man. No circumstances can make him happy. He may be surrounded with every outward blessing; but they will be no blessings to him, unless he is disposed

to think them such. On the other hand, though no outward distinctions may exalt his destiny above the average condition of his kind, yet if contentment dwell within, and if he feel his deserts to be below the level of his

lot, all around will take the colouring he gives, and catch, as it were, the illumination of his own mind.

"I have met with not a few whose instinct it appears to be, to gather out of the mingled cup of life all the misery they can; and who go from one bitter flower to another, to collect their store of grievances and complaints. It seems to be their favourite point to prove to themselves and others, how cruelly the world has used them; and how every thing com bines against them. And in no case, assuredly, is the proverb that practice makes perfect' more amply verified, than in theirs. There are two sides, or, as Epictetus well expresses it, two handles,' to every thing. There are various aspects in which each object can be viewed. But their unhappy skill consists in selecting materials for finding fault. Even the few bright spots which they notice on the map of life, they notice only for the purpose of contrasting them with the gloomy colouring of the rest. Оп this account, flattery is doubly poisonous to them. Like all men, they come in for their share of this flowery food. They do not, with the few, despise it; nor, with the many, receive it as lightly and flippantly as it is ut

tered. No: with them, flattery is a serious thing. They meet it as their due. They claim it as a right, which all, but the flatterer, cruelly and wrongfully withhold from them. Up to the highest pitch of adulation they feel that all who approach them should habitually live. The sycophant is considered to be the only one who truly knows them. His fulsome praise is handed round as a kind of certificate of claims and character. And when these letters of credit are protested, and disclaimed, new sources of mortification and discomfort are opened to the mind."

We should have been glad to have added several other volumes to our list had space allowed. Among those omitted, is the Rev. J. H. Stewart's " Family of Bethany," which we had especially reserved for notice. It is a volume so pastoral, so affectionate, so full of tenderness and of holy unction, that we most strongly recommend it to the perusal of our readers. It is a delightful and instructive manual for the family circle.

The Levant treaty, respecting which her Majesty was advised to express to parliament her confident hope that it will secure tranquillity to three continents, has exploded like a bomb-shell amidst inflammable materials. The Pasha of Egypt refuses to comply with the terms propounded to him, namely the possession in perpetuity of Egypt, which he wrested from the hands of his master, with the government for life of the southern portion of Syria, from the sea of Tiberias to the Red Sea; the latter however being conditional upon his accepting the proffered terms within ten days. Considering that he is a rebel, and holds all he possesses by usurpation, he would have no bard bargain in the peaceable hereditary sovereignty of Egypt, which

is in a position for again becoming, under wise management, a powerful and flourishing state. He however declines the overture, but expresses himself willing to accept Egypt for ever, with the government of Syria for life. The ten days allowed for his compliance with the Sybilline proposition having expired, he has forfeited the viceroyship of South Syria; and should he continue refractory, even the offer of Egypt lapses. In the mean time the English fleet is blockading his ports, and seizing vessels and munitions of war in Syria. Unless France should very seriously take up the question, and make it her own, at the awful risk of a wide-spread European, Asiatic, and African war, it does not seem likely that England, Russia, Austria, and Prussia will so far recede from their ultimatum as to advise the Ottoman Porte to yield the government of all Syria to Ali Pacha for life; by which concession he might be able to take such measures that it would not be easily recoverable after his death, should his successor determine to retain it. It is possible, however, seeing the enormous evils which

must accrue to all parties from active hostilities, that France may yield to policy, and be allowed to soothe her wounded pride, by recommending to the Pasha to accept some modified proposition, which the Allied Powers shall have pre-arranged to concede at her instance. It is incredible that any European nation should have seriously made up its mind for war. France, with her inflammable population and her disputed dynasties; with Bonapartism and Bourbonism adversely pressing on her right and left flank, republicanism menacing her in the rear, and with nothing in her centre but the feebleness of a newly-founded throne, which the same voluble power that erected it could easily overturn, can ill afford to bring on a shock, either of arms or opinions, which would probably end abroad in loss and disgrace, from enslaved Algiers to slave-holding Martinique; and at home in renewed contentions, perhaps terminating as before in bloodshed, revolution, anarchy, and restored despotism. Nor would Austria, Prussia, or Russia, with their indelible recollections of the great European war, with wounds scarcely healed and ever ready to re-open, be well advised in engendering strifes, amidst the tumult of which the smouldering elements of discontent and rebellion would burst into a flame; "young Germany" coalescing with young Prussia and young Russia; universities fraternising with serfs; and the Carbonarï of Italy with the liberators of Poland; till all Europe became one field of blood; for, as Mr. Canning said long ago, the next European war will be a war of opinions; and even a more casual spark than a quarrel about the affairs of the Levant might serve to kindle it. Nor would it suit England, with her enormous debt, her vast commercial interests, her trembling balance of parties, and with China and all the East upon her hands, under perilous circumstances, to manage as best she may; to say nothing of the inadequacy of her peace establishments, for any vast and sudden emergency, offensive or defensive; to expend much blood and treasure, and to risk more, for the sake of adjusting the affairs of Turkey. And what have we so specially to do with the question, that we must hazard plunging ourselves in war to settle it? True, we are on the right side, and the French on the wrong, as between the Porte and its rebel subject; and ourOriental interests make it our policy to preserve the independence of the Ottoman empire. But in the present attempt to do so, the probabilities are

quite as much against us as for us; nor are any wars so senseless in their object, or so uncertain in their issue, as those which are undertaken to preserve what is called "the balance of power." That balance is always fluctuating; nor can human wisdom, strength, or foresight prevent it. In whatever way the Sultan of Turkey and his vassal might compound their difference, the loss and injury to England would probably be far less than that which must ensue if she should be drawn into an extensive war. We trust this will not be the case; nor do we believe that it will; for, as we have said, it is the interest of the parties concerned to maintain peace among themselves; but why must England be for ever meddling? What have we to do with blockading the Levant, and fighting to support the Sultan of Turkey? We would remind those of our countrymen who are anxious to interfere in neighbours' quarrels, of a story merrily told by the reformer and martyr Tyndal, in his "Practice of [popish] Prelates." He says: "The Frenchmen (as the old saying is) of late days made a play, or a disguising (masquerade) at Paris, in which the emperor danced with the pope and the French king, and wearied them, the king of England sitting on a high bench and looking on. And when it was asked why he danced not, it was answered, that he sat there but to pay the minstrels their wages." England has continued to " pay the piper" in most of her wars ever since; and a fine bill it would be, if pride or passion, instead of calm counsels, are to prescribe the dance. Let us be duly prepared to resist violence; but let us beware of lightly kindling destructive conflagrations.

Her Majesty observed in her speech, at the close of the late session, "I have every reason to expect cordial assistance from the Assembly of Jamaica in the salutary work of improving the condition and elevating the character of the inhabitants of that colony. The conduct of the emancipated negroes throughout the West Indies has been remarkable for tranquil obedience to the law, and a peaceable demeanour in all the relations of social life." To us who from the first espoused the cause of emancipation, and endeavoured to counteract the alarming forebodings by which interested men worked upon the minds of the ignorant and the timid, Her Majesty's declaration respecting the good conduct of the emancipated population-though it is only what we expected-is very consolatory. As to the recent panic, that we shall have no

sugar, for that the emancipated people will not work, we always frankly stated our conviction that free men never would, or ought to toil as the slaves were made to do under the lash; but they are quite willing to work to any reasonable extent for due wages; and much of the deficiency complained of, arises from the gratifying circumstance that the women, instead of toiling at servile labour in the fields, now employ themselves in their cottages in discharging the duties of wives and mothers, having become more civilized, and in very numerous instances Christianized also. There must of necessity be some temporary diminution of produce; the labourers being no longer willing to be regarded merely as ploughs and horses; but in proportion as agricultural implements and improved modes of culture are introduced, the pressure will be relieved; and even were it otherwise, sugar, in ample abundance, might speedily be procured from India and elsewhere, without any pretext for reverting to slavery, or encouraging the produce of those countries in which it is still tolerated.

The Rev. Dr. Shuttleworth is appointed to succeed Bishop Otter in the see of Chichester, and we have reason to believe that the choice has fallen upon a clergyman highly qualified for the office. We were unwilling to express any opinion upon the recent appointment for St. David's; for our recollections of Dr. Thirlwall's preface to his translation of Schleiermacher's neologian Essay upon St. Luke's Gospel, were painfully vivid, he seemed to us in effect to give up the whole question of the divine inspiration of holy writ, but many years have since passed by, and we have been informed that the learned writer now entertains far better views; so that we kept silence lest we should say more than present circumstances would justify. Dr. Shuttle

worth's publications, we need not say, are thoroughly orthodox; and he has recently done much service to the church of Christ, and our own branch in particular, by forcibly delivering his testimony against the Oxford Tract doctrines in three sermons preached be fore the University; in the preface to which he says: "Restlessness of public feeling, which has for some time past been exercising its influence over other branches of study, has now extended itself to our theology. The doctrines of 'justification through faith,' of the free pardon of sin through the Gospel covenant,' and of 'the entire sufficiency of Scripture as our guide to salvation,' are no longer, as formerly, accepted by all parties within our Church as almost trite and undeniable truths. Within the last few years a strong and extensively organized effort has been made, if not openly to controvert them, at least to weaken their evidence, and practically to supersede them. Minute and unessential points of practice have been rigidly insisted on; inferences, either derived from Scripture by a strained exaggera tion of particular texts, or purely and simply the product of human caprice, have been oracularly brought forward as indispensable parts of faith; and thus, whilst men's attention has been drawn away from fundamental principles, a system of theology has been set up, not of that soul-stirring and yet simple character taught by the apostles, but blended with many of the super-additions, not to say cold superstitions, of a later and far less pure period. Under such circumstances it would seem to be incumbent upon every sincere friend to the principles of the Protestant Reformation, and (as I conceive them to be) of Evangelical truth, openly to declare their dissent from doctrines which, if they are doing nothing more, are at least disarming those principles of their poignancy and efficacy."