ROTHERHAM CHURCH. AUGUST 7, 1852. ROTHERHAM is a good market and parish town, pleasantly situate on the high road between Sheffield and Doncaster; being distant from the former town six, and from the latter twelve miles. It is forty-nine miles S.S.W. from York, and one hundred and fifty-nine N.N.W. from London. It stands in a valley, near the confluence of the rivers Rother aud Don, the former running on its western, the latter on its north-western side. The town is far from being handsome: the streets are narrow and irregular; and the houses, which are chiefly of stone, have in general a dull and dingy appearance. The trade of the place has greatly increased of late years; the mineral riches of the neighbourhood, chiefly coal and iron, giving cmployment to a great number of persons. The church is a large and handsome structure, in the later style of English architecture, comprising a nave and chancel, with aisles and transepts; and in the centre rises a tower with a lofty octagonal spire. This was much damaged by lightning in 1830, and a considerable part of it was taken down and rebuilt. The south side of the nave has a richly ornamented porch, with double buttresses at the angles, terminating in slender crocketed pinnacles. The windows, three in number, are of four lights, with perpendicular tracery, and a crocketed weather cornice, resting on grotesque antique figures. The transepts are in a similar style of architecture, the principal south window having six lights. The chancel has two pointed windows, less decorated than those of the nave; and the east window is extremely clumsy, of seven lights with a transom. The tower rises from the intersection of the nave, chancel, and transepts. At each angle are double buttresses panelled, and in each face two pointed windows. The whole is embattled, and adorned with crocketed pinnacles, arranged at regular intervals. From this tower rises an octagonal spire of considerable altitude. The exterior of this church is very handsome, being profusely ornamented with sculptures, and is undoubtedly the most complete specimen of the ecclesiastical architecture of the No. 957. sixteenth century in this part of England. The The A very eminent native of this place, Thomas Scott, usually, from his being born here, called Thomas of Rotherham, was archbishop of York and lord chancellor in the fifteenth century. He was a great benefactor to the town. There is a good bridge of five pointed arches here; and on the centre pier is an elegant chapel, which has in modern times been used, or rather abused, as a gaol. Rotherham, it may be added, is a vicarage in the diocese of York, and had in 1841 a population of 8,373. eternal life," describes these characters, who hear his word and yet come short of salvation at last, it will make us diligent in inquiring what is meant by the cautions he has given. The husbandman well knows that it will be in vain to sow the seed, unless with care he destroy the thorns and thistles which are the natural produce of the soil, and which will infallibly choke the seed if they be not rooted up. Thorns and briars are to the ground exactly what the cares and love of the world are to the soul. Since man fell, he has made the creature his idol, and sought his happiness from it, instead of seeking it from God. And there is no kind of sin which may not be traced to this universal idolatry, which has produced the same effect on the soul of man as the original did on the earth. But, before anything good can be obtained, the ground must be cleared and made good. In sidering the subject I shall, I. Make a few introductory observations. III. Point out the radical defect, with some instances in which it appears. these doctrines have not been duly applied to the heart and conscience. Many of these persons have a kind of reverence for a sound creed and form of religion, and often profess evangelical and seriptural doctrines; but yet there is too much reason to fear that they have received the seed among thorns. I would therefore advise those who have been brought up in a religious manner to examine and try carefully whether they are Christians, for a better reason than many others are Mohammedans or papists. But supposing this not to be the case, a man has not had a religions education, nor adopted Christianity because his fathers professed it; but he hears the gospel, and it is a new thing to him, though preached from generations of old. It appears striking in his view; yet he does not take up a hasty profession of it, like the stony-ground con-hearer, but uses leisure for examination. He is in some measure convinced that he is a sinner, and needs a Saviour; yet he feels no genuine humiliation and godly sorrow on account of it. He may perhaps be uneasy and disquieted, but he soon obtains a kind of peace again; yet there is no real change produced in his heart, and the world still continues to be his idol. He has been alarmed and comforted: he takes up a creditable creed and profession, attends regularly at places where the gospel is preached, and joins himself to the society of true Christians by coming to the Lord's table. His conduct is creditable; and, though we may have some suspicions about him, yet there is a decency and morality, and even sometimes a liberality, in his behaviour; so that we have no suffi< cient reason why we should exclude him from our society. The man thinks well of himself; and others may do the same about him; but the thorns are springing up, and choking the word more and more. This is a most plausible character, and yet he is in the broad road. It is, therefore, of the utmost consequence to distinguish and show how far a man may be like a Christian, and yet finally come short of heaven. I. I shall make some introductory observations. 1. Temptations always follow tempers. So, while the sanguine disposition is most suited to form the stony-ground hearer, the man of a cooler and less earnest temper is likely to become a thorny-ground hearer. 2. In times of ease and prosperity, and places where extensive manufactures or commerce are carried on, and where much money may be gotten, there thorny-ground hearers may be expected to abound. At such places there is an association of ideas formed even from infancy that happiness increases with wealth, and that poverty is the source of misery. Young persons therefore set out in life with a steady purpose of avoiding the one, and seeking the other as their chief good, and considering religion as an inferior object. I fear that these persons greatly abound in this modern Tyre, this mart of the nations. 3. There must be expected in our congregations a description of persons whom no human eye can penetrate. We fluctuate in our hopes and fears with regard to them. But, surely, if we value our own souls, we shall be careful to avoid such a profession. Do any find themselves distressed by this? Let them examine themselves diligently: inquiry is always necessary, and it can never do us any harm. III. We consider the radical defect of the character. The radical defect here is the same as in the others; it is a want of life; like a dead corpse, perfect, indeed in every limb, but destitute of life. There is no renewal unto holiness. A man may have all the parts of Christianity as far as relates to externals, and yet be an unregenerate man: "One thing," said our Lord to such a character, 4. The same things which make the thorny-thou lackest yet": "Ye must be born again. ground hearer likewise partly prevail to make the dwarfish uncomfortable Christian, The subject is, therefore, full of instruction to those within as well as those without. II. I shall endeavour particularly to describe the character. They indeed receive the word, but it is among thorns. These persons are very frequent in places where religion has been long known and professed they seem to inherit a sound creed from their forefathers by a regular entail; but they never experience the power of it in their hearts. Such characters likewise abound among those who have had a religious education; especially if they have been brought up in places where the chief stress has been laid upon doctrines, and where, from an idea that the work is entirely of God, He wanted divine life. Some say that this young man wanted conviction of sin; others, that he wanted faith; others, that he wanted love. These opinions are all true; for he was destitute of that which is the source of every Christian grace. This thorny-ground hearer wants faith. What, you will say, hold an evangelical creed without faith? Yes, there is a dead as well as a living faith. A man may believe the facts and doctrines stated in the scripture, and yet not believe their preciousness and excellency with respect to himself "as worthy of all acceptation." So this person does not esteem them so valuable as that it would be worth his while to give up the world for them. He never believed with that faith which is "the evidence of things not seen"; nor like Moses, who "endured as seeing him who is invisible," and I "counted the reproach of Christ greater riches than all the treasures of Egypt.' Nor does he see the Lamb of God as far eclipsing all other objects, while he shows the evil of sin, the lost condition of man, and the need he stands in of such a salvation. He never believed in such manner as to give up things present for the sake of things to come. His faith is not that which worketh by love, and which overcomes the world. In fact, he seeks his hope of future happiness from religion, but his present enjoyment from the world. Many of them take up a profession for the sake of keeping in favour with such and such persons, whom it is their interest to please; and afterward they deceive themselves because these persons appear to think well of them. How cautious ought ministers to be, therefore, of giving unqualified commendation of persons with whom they are but little acquainted! But the grand fault of these persons is that they love the world and the things of the world. They try to do that which never can be done-to serve God and mammon. They endeavour to have as much as may save them at last, and may keep them fair with religious persons; but they wish to have as much of the world by the way as they can. If they be poor, it is the same thing-the cares of the world: What shall I eat, and what shall I drink? How shall I maintain my family?-these spring up, and choke the word; while they are envying others, and grudging whatever goes beside them. In this view there is scarcely any thing more dangerous, for a person setting out in life, than setting too high an aim. He sees another, who is in the same line of business into which he is just entering he sets this person up as his standard, to which he means to be equal. But times grow worse, business slackens, and he cannot come up to his aim. Still, he can't bear the mortification of lowering his style of life: he must, therefore, make some bold effort. He lays his plans: if he can do it consistently with his conscience, he will; but, if not, it must be done. He then acts in some improper manner, but satisfies his conscience by pleading necessity. Young persons are exposed to a great snare by thus beginning life in too expensive a manner it is ruinous in this world, and the next too. Be contented, therefore, with food and raiment. But, when a man has got over this, then there is the deceitfulness of riches. Men's desires increase with their possessions. Here is a fair opportunity of extending his business. If he embraces it, he flatters himself that he shall be able to do more good. Thus, under a specious pretext, thorns grow up and choke the word. Then there are, too, the "lusts of the world." Here are superior connexions to be formed: then he must live in a manner suitable to them, and even vie with them. Thus, while he goes on purposing to attend more to religion than he has done, the devil closes his eyes; and they are never opened till it is too late. O, then, ye that are growing rich, beware! There are few indeed of those who are rich that truly serve God; but the snare is still far greater with those who are growing rich. "Watch," therefore, "and pray, lest ye enter into temptation." I shall point out some of the instances in which the radical defect shows itself. 1. The man takes up religion as a thing which is to go along with the world, and not to govern it. If you take up religion aright, you will seek your happiness from it. It will pervade every action of life: it will be a ruling principle in the family as well as the church, in the shop as well as the closet. You will be in the fear of the Lord all the day." One part of your time may be employed in one thing, and another in an other; "but, whether you eat or drink, or whatsoever you do," you will endeavour "to do all to the glory of God." One radical defect of this character therefore is, that he makes religion a detached business; as if he might be religious in the morning, and irreligious the rest of the day; or religious on the Sunday, and worldly all the remainder of the week, and might put off religion with his Sunday clothes. They don't make the care of their souls their one grand object, to which every thing else must give way. 2. Those evils which the true Christian mourns over, and watches and prays against, this man allows and pleads for as necessary. Covetousness, love of the world, ambition, and our corrupt nature, are that body of sin which must be crucified. But the thorny-ground hearer is not willing to have his love of the world mortified. He rather inquires how far he must go in religion, and how far he may go into the world. He has no idea of daily mortifying and watching against his corrupt nature; never considering that all the devils in hell are not such dangerous foes to his soul as this inward propensity to evil. But the real Christian knows and feels that, were it not for this, Satan could do him no harm: he therefore labours and fights against the first risings of evil passions and dispositions in his heart. 3. So long as the world and religion go together, he will be as religious as the world will let him; but, when they separate, he gives up religion and follows the world. But the real Christian gives up the world, and follows Christ. It was an observation of one of the puritans that, if you see whose servant he is till they separate; then he a servant following two men, you cannot tell will follow his master. So it is with the thornyground hearer: he is of the world, and he will follow it. If the man be poor, instead of trusting to God to provide for him while he uses the appointed means, his grand care is not how he may grow in grace, but how he may get out of his poverty, and rise in the world. And the case is the same with the rich; for the world reigns in their hearts. He may occasionally perform some act of charity, or even promote the cause of religion; but his habitual behaviour is not such as becometh a Christian. There is no holy indifference to the world, no conduct suited to recommend religion to others. Sometimes buds and blossoms are produced; but some blast comes; and they all drop off, but leave no fruit. Our hopes are disappointed; and he lives and dies a barren fig-tree. I wish I might look around on this congrega tion, and think that there were none such anong you; but I fear I have the testimony of some of your consciences that I ought not. Will you be offended because I set these things before you? Will you be angry with me when you come to lie on your death-bed? O, consider your awful state! "What will ye do in the end thereof?" But perhaps, though not thus convicted, you may be in doubt. Examine yourselves. It can be no detriment to true faith to be tried. Be decided in religion. If the Lord be God, serve him; if it be any thing it is every thing. Make it evident to all around you that you are indeed a disciple of Christ; for, if your religion be doubtful before men, it must be much more so to your own conscience if you would but examine. Let us, then, be decided, and, "whereunto we have attained, let us walk by the same rule, mind the same things," and still be pressing forward. AUGUST*. ""Tis a fair sight, that vest of geld, BISHOP MANT'S "BRITISH MONTHS." THE eighth month of the Julian year received, from the emperor Augustus, the name of Augustt, in memory of certain important victories which he had gained. It had previously borne the name of Sextilis, being the sixth from March, with which month the Romans anciently began their computation. We have observed, in a former chapter, that many singing-birds, as the thrush, the blackbird, the woodlark, the willow-wren, &c., become silent about Midsummer, and resume their notes in September. The naturalist of Selborne remarks, and his accuracy may generally be depended upon, August is by much the most mute month, that " the spring, summer, and autumn through ;" and he adds the conjecture that "birds are, perhaps, induced to sing again in autumn because the temperature of that season resembles that of spring." From "The Gardeu, the Grove, and the Field; a Garland of the Months." By Mary Milner. Bath: Binns and Goodwin. Mrs. Milner, the grand-niece of the late dean of Carlisle, is well known to most of our readers; as her first work, The Christian Mother," appeared in these pages. The present volume comprises a sketch of the natural phenomena of the various months of the year; and the authoress declares that her aim is "to enhance the delight with which any of her readers may ramble through garden, grove, or field; to excite or to foster in their minds an interest in the beauties and wouders with which each abounds; and to suggest to their consideration the truth that the book of creation, rightly read, supplies a valuable commentary upon the book of revelation; that Nature, employ'd in her allotted space, Is handmaid to the purposes of grace'." We think Mrs. M. has succeeded in her purpose, and we shall be glad to see this little work extensively circulated. Our readers will, we think, be pleased with the extract we have given above.-ED. The mean temperature of this month is but little lower than that of July. Hot nights are frequent; and the action of the sun's rays is assisted by the radiation from the warm earth, which now throws back into the air a portion of the heat received from the sun, instead of absorbing it, as in spring. It is observed that during the greatest heats of summer east and south-east winds prevail. There is usually much less rain in August than in July. Be that as it may, the "feathered choir" is certainly less full in August than in any other month; the months of winter being, of course, excepted. In August scarcely does "A blackbird whistle from the thorny brake, The silence, however, at this period is not total; .... Towards the end of the month of August swallows and some other birds of passage begin to congregate, with a view to their approaching migration, although their actual departure does not take place till September, or perhaps till October. "Warned of approaching winter, gathered play Innumerous wings are in commotion all." The capability possessed by birds of performing, with astonishing swiftness, flights of vast length, is proved by numerous well-ascertained facts. Mr. Audubon, the celebrated ornithologist, has related that, having himself shot the American passenger pigeon at a distance of 800 miles from land, he nevertheless found its stomach, on dissection, full of fresh rice, i. e., of rice unchanged by the digestive process; a circumstance which convinced him that that great distance must have been traversed within the space of a few hours. A sparrow has miles in an hour; and various experiments have been known to fly at a rate of not less than thirty shown that the common kite (Falco milvus) can fly with ease from the farthest extremity of |