church, and then representing to him the advantage of leaving that church to join another society. This and the like evils are extensively felt and deeply lamented; but let such evils be diligently exploded, and resisted with manly courage and Christian meek ness. Bold things, said in a bold manner, though, like the baseless fabric of a vision," they are without foundation, have an irresistible charm to attract the lover of novelty and of the marvellous. For instance, a gentleman, not many years ago, preaching in this neighbourhood, and being at the time, no doubt, wrought up to an elevated pitch of laudable solicitude for the everlasting welfare of his audience, declared, that, if he had the arm of Omnipotence, no soul should depart unconverted out of the chapel. Such a declaration as this justly assigns to the power and prerogative of Omnipotence the important work of converting "a sinner from the error of his ways; and of raising him "from a death of sin unto a life of righteousness." Such a declaration manifests the humble and becoming consciousness of the preacher, that he has but an "arm of flesh." But does such a declaration manifest also the equally becoming, humble, and humbling consciousness that his judgment might have been as inferior to that of infinite wisdom as the arm of flesh is inferior to the arm of infinite power? Far from the writer of these lines be the presumption that the preacher intended to impugn the divine wisdom and divine goodness, by insinuating that the Almighty did not exercise, for the benefit of his needy helpless creatures, that power which he might exercise in converting every one of them, as the teacher himself would have done, had he been vested with the same power. Farther from the writer be the supposition, that the teacher, by impressing on the minds of his auditors a belief that the Almighty did not exercise his power for their benefit, any more intended to excite in them feelings hostile to the Divine government, than he intended to cherish in his audience a feeling hostile to the government of his country, when he was preaching at a recent ordination, in the same neighbourhood, and, after indulging himself in some ungracious sarcasms on "long-drawn aisles, vaulted roofs, and painted windows," he informed his hearers, that "they, as citizens of England, were deprived of their rights and privileges." Assertions and proceedings like those complained of here, may please the lover of novelty and the vulgar; may gratify itching ears; may conduce to strengthen the prejudice and interest of a party, whose aim is to prostrate every other system, how excellent or superior soever, which clashes, or may be supposed to clash with that interest; may engender and strengthen that bitter unamiable feeling of party jealousy, which is foreign from and even at variance with the lovely and disinterested genius of Christianity. But do they accord with "the words of truth and soberness?" Are they likely to profit an immortal soul, rapidly passing into eternity? Can such a familiarity with the divine attributes have a tendency to create in the mind those exalted apprehensions of the Divine Being, which prostrate, or ought to prostrate, the soul, in the deepest humility and profoundest adoration before the throne of the ETERNAL? Are such observations and procedures likely to excite and cherish a disposition to "lead a quiet and peaceable life," which adorns the Christian character, and by which the Christian character approximates the examples and the precepts of the Lord Jesus, and of his Apostles? The length of my letter demands an apology from me; but it is the renewal of old friendship, which if you are disposed to cherish, may REPLY TO QUERY To the Editor of the Christian Guardian. DEAR SIR, I HAVE SO constantly found our nautical infidels to be ignorant conceited coxcombs, that were it not to satisfy your correspondent and such of your plain honest-hearted readers as he alludes to, I should think it quite a waste of time to notice their cavils at Holy Writ. The men who urge objections against the passage under review are so little acquainted with ancient and classical history, and with the ever-varying modes and manners of different ages and nations, that they take it for granted the shape and trim of ships in St. Paul's day were similar to those now navigating the British Channel; which is just as true and sensible an idea as for the same gentlemen to imagine that the cut and fashion of men's clothes were in King Edward VI.'s time similar to those now prevailing in Bond Street. A man may be a good officer and an able seaman without understanding Greek, and therefore is not to be treated with contempt on that account; but when any of these non-educated individuals will turn critics and cavillers to the dishonouring of Scripture, they deserve every lash their ignorance brings on their backs. Our translation renders ix wgúμrns jitales άγκυρας τέσσαρας, " they cast four anchors out of the stern." I need not tell you, Sir, that the preposition is as frequently and as properly translated from, as out of; and *The blue-coat boys' dress, so uncouth and dissimilar to the modern fashion, was the general cut and fashion of the time of good King Edward VI. ON ACTS, XXVII. 29. certainly in the passage before us it should have been so rendered"they cast four anchors from the stern." That the anchors belonging to St. Paul's vessel were small anchors is certain, not so much from their number as from the circumstance of the crew weighing or getting them up in such stormy weather. Had they been heavy anchors, they must have cut the cables and left them in the sea. Of the shape and mode of stowage of this vessel we know little or nothing; but I have no doubt whatever of the anchors being stowed away in the after-part of the vessel; and that, as the cables were proportionally small with the anchors, when they found it necessary to anchor in a great hurry, the ends of these cables were conducted from the prow of the vessel along the outside of the rigging, and brought aft and secured to the anchors, as being more convenient, under the confused state of the per deck and urgency of the case, than conveying the anchors forward. Every cabin-boy knows, that when the cables were thus carried aft and bent to the anchors, the latter might be thrown from the stern part of the vessel as well as from the prow. Every sea-boy also knows, that, as the vessel dropped astern, the anchors and cables would instantly take their proper and natural position ahead of the vessel. It once was customary for our ships of war occasionally to have spare small anchors carried far aft to the quarters of the ship, and the cables brought along outside the vessel, from whence these anchors were either lowered into a boat or up let go into the water at once: now a landsman would call this "casting anchors from the stern." Whether this were the case in St. Paul's vessel or not, is uncertain; but one thing should not be overlooked, i. e. Saint Paul was a landsman, and gives his narrative as a landsman would naturally do, not in strict nautical and professional terms; but often in such a way as a little obscures some part of the history to the mere nautical reader, whose ideas and words are often few indeed. Yet who but silly conceited hypercritics would condemn or ridicule the fact because so related? I have no doubt but our nautical infidels, who stumble at this passage, are far better acquainted with, and much more inclined to encourage, the abominations pointed out in the Review, pages 345— 351, of your September number, than they are acquainted with or disposed to encourage classical, Biblical, or any sort of moral and praiseworthy studies. Let not therefore any serious honest man, who loves his Bible, be for a moment disturbed by their profane and ignorant cavils. Yours truly, ALIQUIS. A POPISH MIRACLE. In the neighbourhood of Musselburgh was a chapel, dedicated, to our Lady of Loretto, the sanctity of which was increased from its having been the favourite abode of the celebrated Thomas the Hermit. To this sacred place the inhabitants of Scotland, from time immemorial, had repaired in pilgrimage, to present their offerings to the Virgin, and to experience the virtue of her prayers, and the healing power of the wonder-working "Hermit of Lareit." In the course of the year 1559, public notice was given by the friars, that they intended to put the truth of their religion to the proof, by performing a miracle at the Chapel of Loretto, upon a young man who had been born blind. On the day appointed, a vast concourse of people assembled from the three Lothians. The young man, accompanied with a solemn procession of monks, was conducted to a scaffold erected on the outside of the chapel, and was exhibited to the multitude. Many of them knew him to be the blind man whom they had often seen begging, and whose necessities they had relieved: all looked on him, and pronounced him stone blind. The friars then proceeded to their devotions with great fervency, invoking the assistance of the Virgin, at whose shrine they stood, and of all the saints whom they honoured; and, after some time spent in prayers and religious ceremonies, the blind man opened his eyes, to the astonishment of the spectators. Having returned thanks to the friars and their saintly patrons for this wonderful cure, he was allowed to go down from the scaffold to gratify the curiosity of the people, and to receive their alms. It happened that there was among the crowd a gentleman of Fife, Robert Colville of Cleish, who, from his romantic bravery, was usually called Squire Meldrum, in allusion to a person of that name who had been celebrated by Sir David Lindsay. He was of Protestant principles, but his wife was a Roman Catholic, and, being pregnant at this time, had sent a servant with a present to the Chapel of Loretto, to procure the assistance of the Virgin in her labour. The Squire was too gallant to burt, his lady's feelings by prohibiting the present from being sent off, but he resolved to prevent the superstitious offering; and, with that view, had come to Musselburgh. He had witnessed the miracle of curing the blind man with the distrust natural to a Protestant, and he determined, if possible, to detect the imposition before he left the place. Wherefore, having sought out the young man from the crowd, he put a piece of money of considerable value into his hand, and persuaded him to accompany him to Edinburgh. Taking him along him with into a private room, and locking the door, he told him plainly that he was convinced he had engaged in a wicked conspiracy with the friars to impose on the credulity of the people, and at last drew from him the secret of the story. When a boy, he had been employed to tend the cattle belonging to the nuns of Sciennes, in the vicinity of Edinburgh, and had attracted their attention by a peculiar faculty which he had of turning up his eyes, and of keeping them in LETTER FROM A To the Editor of the Christian I HAVE Occasionally observed in the pages of the Christian Guardian the letters of pious individuals, who have entered into the joy of their Lord. I have sometimes been disposed to question the utility or OCTOBER 1822. this position, so as to appear quite blind. This being reported to some of the friars in the city, they immediately conceived the design of makinghim subservient to their purposes; and having prevailed on the sisters of Sciennes to part with the poor boy, lodged him in one of their cells. By daily practising he became an adept in the art of counterfeiting blindness; and after he had remained so long in concealment as not to be recognised by his former acquaintances, he was sent forth to beg as a blind pauper; the friars having previously bound him, by a solemn vow, not to reveal the secret. To confirm his narrative he "played his pavie" before Cleish, by "flyping up the lid of his eyes, and casting up the white," so as to appear as blind as he did on the scaffold at Loretto. The gentleman laid before him the iniquity of his conduct, and told him that he must next day repeat the whole story publicly at the cross of Edinburgh; and, as this would expose him to the vengeance of the friars, he engaged to become his protector, and to retain him as a servant in his house. The young man complied with his directions; and Cleish, with his drawn sword in his hand, having stood by him till he had finished his confession, placed him on the same horse with himself, and carried him off to Fife. The detection of this imposture was quickly published through the country, and covered the friars with confusion. nuine godliness, which it is the aim of your publication to diffuse, does not consist in things new, and striking and captivating. What you wish to be instrumental in effecting is the withdrawment of the heart and affections from the vanities of time and sense, and the "setting them upon those things which are above, where Christ is at the right hand of God." Now, the perusal of letters such as those to which I have referred (the actual correspondence of saints now in glory) seems well calculated to promote this object. They may, it is true, contain no exhibitions of superior talent-no evidences of deep research-no elucidations of that which is difficult and obscure in theology-no glowing illustrations nor learned criticism: nay, they may sometimes even refer to obscure individuals and transactions; yet the very circumstance that they exhibit the actual feelings of the heart, communicated without the most remote idea that they would ever extend beyond the eye of the immediate friend to whom they were written, gives them an interest which perhaps no other kind of writing can possess. These reflections have led me to submit to your consideration the following letters, of one whose life was peculiarly upright, consistent, holy, and whose death was peculiarly blessed and triumphant. I shall only add, that it is impossible for me to form an unbiassed judgment respecting them; the testimony borne to the character of the writer of them, by one who knew and loved her, on receiving the tidings of her entrance into the mansion prepared for her by her Redeemer in his Father's house, I cannot refuse myself the mournful gratification of adding to these lines; and I may venture to declare, that the hand of truth, equally with that of affection, guided his pen whilst he wrote. the dear departed, was no A common Christian; she was bright among the brightest, and among the excellent of the earth stood preeminent. From the long and intimate friendship which subsisted between us, I hope I may be allowed to have competent means of forming an opinion of her moral and spiritual worth; and I have no hesitation in affirming that I have seldom seen her equal in these respects, and never her superior. To a solid and well-informed judgment on divine things, she united a discriminating taste and warm affections. A lively interest in the great subject of religion she always discovered-grace was poured into her lips, and her heart overflowed with love and kindness to the Saviour and his people. She went about doing good, and the actions of her life afforded an edifying comment on the principles she professed :and all this was connected with unassuming modesty of mind and manners, a temper of entire selfrenunciation, and a disposition to esteem others better than herself. |