batter the church, he makes her liturgy the companion of bristling bayonets, mailed captains, and persecuting judges. The learned Cavalier and Royalist pulls hard his way, and the Puritan and Roundhead pulls us bravely in an opposite direction. The plausible and the beautiful are in all the movements of Southey, the coarse and commonplace are the atmosphere of Mr. Philip. It is therefore easy to predict in whose favour the public is most likely to be swayed. We think the candid and the honourable course is, to admit that professed defenders of the church have exceeded frequently even the penal laws, of which they were the expounders and executors; and that in the conduct of many of the sturdy Independents there was much to provoke and irritate. This is quite evident, and at the same time amply sufficient to vindicate the Protestant church: her liturgy and her articles breathe no persecution, encourage no physical force, and are as little chargeable with the crimes of even enthusiastic defenders as the three denominations are with the Chartists or Sir W. Courtenay. Every principle has been perverted; mercy itself has been made man's pretext for murder, and the benign and peaceful truths of the Gospel have been adduced as reasons for persecution. The church is not answerable for the temper and exploits of her self-constituted champions. Every man must bear his own burden. BUNYAN'S SECOND WIFE, AND THE Bunyan seems to have been bitter against the use of the Prayer-book. His reasons are unworthy of his strong sense. "Must all the rabble in the world," he asks, "be made to say OUR FATHER, because the saints are commanded to say so?" If the Dissenters make use of the Lord's prayer -and of their practice in this respect we are ignorant-we do not see how they can interdict the rabble from joining any more than the church. The latter requires her own members to use it. Her liturgy is expressly for their use, and if others choose to join in her sacred services, it is matter for congratulation, not for regret. We do not exactly agree with Mr. Philip, in his attempt to soften down the animadversions of Bunyan. As to his remarks on Dissenters using and his strong objections to it, we confess we see none. It would be much to their advantage, were they to do so universally. There is no fear of the Dissenter being mistaken for a minister of the church. The matter of ordination makes a wide difference. We are admirers of a written liturgy; not that we do not find a few capable of giving expression to fervid desires and wants, at once appropriate and chaste, but because we find the of 22, the great majority of preachers, men of inferior gifts, and prone to give forth petitions in the pulpit at which piety grieves, and good taste hides itself in blushes. We know nothing more chaste, devotional, and majestic, than the Anglican liturgy. Were it more inflated, it would pall upon the taste; were it more meagre, it would repel; but, providentially, it combines an extent and variety of requests, and a simplicity and majesty of language, second only to the words of inspiration. His prison hours were either consecrated to this, or to kindred literary labours. He felt comfort and delight in piety and poetry. When he got wearied of the Pilgrim, he had recourse to the Temple of Solomon, and explored it with microscopic eye, -extracting ethereal essence from its commonest parts. All things to Bunyan's eye were bathed in spiritualities; one fragrant and deep ocean surrounded and encompassed all things. The firs and cedars preached to him of trees of righteousness; the "ten lavers" told him of the ten commandments; the sweet spices, stacte, onycha, and galbanum, were fragrant with the odours ར༡ ནག་ gardens around his prison reminded him of the heavenly flower that never fades; and his cell became kindled with a holy light. He saw amid its darkness bright visions, and conjured up from the recesses of a great imagination unutterable poetry. How striking is his description of the Holy of Holies: "The most holy place was dark; it had no windows; things were only seen by the light of the fire of the altar, to shew that God is altogether invisible but to faith. The holiest was built to shew us how different our state in heaven will be from our state on earth. We walk here by one light-the word; but that place will shine more bright than if all the lights of the world were put together. Even in the vail of the temple were figures of cherubim, to shew us that, as the angels wait on us here, so they will wait for us at the door of their heaven." BUNYAN'S PHILOSOPHY. This, we need not say, was generally sound; simply, because it was drawn from the fountains of truth, and retained unadulterated the flavour of its high original. There was great penetration in the apophthegms of the Christian tinker. They were rough, but they were rough diamonds. "Take heed thou deceive not thyself, by changing one bad way for another had way. This was a trick Israel played of old, hopping, like the squirrel, from bough to bough, but not willing to forsake their tree. Many times men change their darling sins, as men change their servants. Hypocrisy would do a while ago, but now debauchery. Profaneness was the fashion, but now a deceitful profession. Take heed thou throw not away thine old darling for a new one. Men's tempers alter; youth is for pride and wantonness: middle-age for cunning and craft; old age for the world and covetousness." Take heed lest thy departing from iniquity be but for a time. Persons in wrangling fits depart from each other; but when the quarrel is over, by means of some intercessor, they are reconciled again. Satan is the intercessor between the soul and sin." "Of Bunyan it is true, that he was a man of one book. Accordingly, in enall forcing morals, he is not afraid to go the lengths of the Bible in proclaiming the rewards of virtue. He can crucify works as merit, and crown them as obedience, with an equally steady and Nothing," says Mr. Philip, with fellow feeling and profound sympathy, provoked Bunyan's sarcastic wit more than selfishness in the clergy, whether Episcopalian or Presbyterian. He makes his teeth meet at every bite upon benefice-hunters. Would the people learn to be covetous,' he says, they need but look to their ministers, and they shall have a lively, or, rather, a deadly, resemblance set before them, in their riding and running after great benefices, and parsonages, by night and by day." It may here be asked, Whether a kindred practice obtains among dissenting ministers? Were Mr. Leifchild, of Craven Chapel, to accept his fourth preferment, and his chapel to be open to competition to-morrow, would Mr. Philip make no interest with the members? Would there be no "running and riding" after 500l. per annum, and leaving 2001. à posteriori? We condemn and reprobate covetousness in all; but when our author is pleased to quote with approbation censures on the clergy for their addictedness to such matters, it becomes him with impartiality to take "the beam out of the eye" of the chapel before he take the mote out of the eye of the church. BUNYAN AND THE MELBOURNE His description of the history of this petticoat concern is good. 18 JJ" Canceiang put out of place strong man, was the first to listen at Eargate. He maligned Mr. Conscience to death, and would shut his eyes when he happened to see him, and his ears when he heard his voice. He could not endure that so much as a fragment of the laws of Magna Charta should be seen any where about the palace. Mr. Mind, his clerk, had some old parchments of the law; but Will-be-will cast them behind his back. He also tried to come at some old scraps of the law which Mr.Conscience had in his study; but he could not get at them. He would also make himself abject amongst any base and rascally crew. His deputy. Mr. Affection, he married to Miss Carnal, one of the ladies in waiting; like to like,' quoth the devil to the collier; and when he appointed cabinet ministers, Incredulity was the oldest, and Mr. Atheism the youngest. As for the rest in office, they were all cousins or nephews." BUNYAN'S RELICS. though privileged to have for his idol a better subject-a far better subject-institutes an elaborate disquisition on his bones, his grave, and tombstone. We hope he will not worship them. Bunyan was, unquestionably, a genius. He is one of those who, by the force and spring of intellectual power, rise far above the sphere in which they were originally placed. Shakspeare in the drama; Milton in epic, Burns in Doric lyrics; and Bunyan in religious allegory, are all unrivalled. They occupy the highest walks in their respective empires. With the exception of one, they were self-taught. The fine genius they inherited rendered the polish that is essentially necessary for inferior minds useless to them. They had by instinct what others acquire by education. These vast minds appear at intervals in the annals of our race to teach us, with the freshness of visible exemplars, what high powers are ready to be unfolded within us-what mind is, and may be to accompany its expansion in afterages - how rich and imperishable the visions it is to enjoy, and the scenes it is sure to traverse, when the earthly tabernacle that now shrouds its glories is exchanged for the heavenly. Man even in his ruins is great. Man restored in Paradise regained will, indeed, be glorious. Mr. Philip having consecrated and canonised his favourite Bunyan, concludes his book by a chapter headed as we have headed this, and a long-how glorious things are predestined disquisition on the locality of the tinker's bones. There seems to be in human nature a strong tendency to relicize the bones of departed favourites. Dr. Murray, of Dublin, very lately imported from abroad the mouldering bones of a pseudo-saint, for the finest pisantry to worship in that metropolis. William Cobbett, the patron of another school, made a pilgrimage to America, and, without paying duty, brought to England the bones of the notorious Tom Paine; and now Mr. Philip, possessed of a similar spirit, A life of Bunyan, in all respects satisfactory to us, has not yet appeared. Southey had not all the materials, Philip has not the talent, and we have not the time. THE TWO, WITH A HINT TO THE ONE. "Every beast after his kind and every creeping thing after his two and two."—An Old Almanac. We need not ask what Pitt would do, Those days are gone; Says Vernon Smith, "I own 'tis true, Then braver done Let the Jamaicans sweat and stew, Safe in majority of Two, It is all ONE. Cupid may scent his billets doux, Twaddle Lord John, Since that blest vote that gave us TWO And Normanby may bill and coo, Rice pick his bone, Each pocketing-huzza for Two! His ONE-pound-ONE. Two chamber ladies overthrew Sir Bob; two dames, two doctors too, On Lady Flora's virtue blew. So be it known, We monarch it by rule of Two, And not of ONE. SCHEIK FEIZI. SCHEIK FEIZI's diwan consists, like all the greater diwans, or collections of lyrical poetry, of two principal divisions, of Kassideh, or the longer elegiac poems; and of Gazelles, the erotic, or mystical: amongst the former, he himself mentions one consisting of 18,000 lines. The usual subjects of the longest Kassideh are almost all in praise of the Shah Akbar, or Great; who certainly merited the name more than any other Indian emperor whose history is recorded. Others of his elegies are on the death of his relations and friends. The Gazelles are veritably such as are termed Musk-gazelles, which career lightly over the rose-beds of enjoyment and the deserts of the passions; or, in other words, are of the lightest order, yet breathing the fragrance so peculiar to Persian poetry ; presenting life always under an aspect of sunshine, with the same calm heaven above. In his mystical poems, however, he is more true and more sublime than any other follower of Attar, or Djelaleddin; his mysticism partaking of the tone and colour of the Indian belief, in which he was reared. His principal mystical poem, called Serre, or Atoms in the Sun, is written in a thousand and one verses (that favourite number in the East), and is partly mystical, partly philosophical. This title is the hieroglyphic indication of that mystery which a Mussulman does not think it expedient to expose to the broad light of day. The work, besides the mystical Serre, treats, in the part devoted to philosophy, of the course of the sun through the zodiac; and is combined with much of the ancient Persian and Indian fire-worship and Brahminical theology. Feizi was introduced, when a boy, to the Brahmins, by Sultan Mohammed Akbar, as an orphan of their tribe, in order that he might learn their language, and obtain possession of their secrets. Feizi became attached to the daughter of the Brahmin who protected him, and she was offered him in marriage by the unsuspecting father. After a struggle between honour and inclination, the former prevailed, and he confessed to the Brahmin the fraud that had been practised; who, struck with horror, attempted to put an end to his own existence, fearing that he had betrayed his trust. Feizi, with tears and protestations, entreated him to forbear, promising to submit to any command he might impose on him. The Brahmin consented to live, on condition that Feizi took an oath never to translate the Vedas, nor repeat to any one the Feizi was the brother of the great Abul Fazil, the historian. It is a proverb in the East, that the monarchs of Asia stood more in awe of the pen of Abul Fazil than the sword of Akbar, |