Stand by, for I am holier than thou; but she virtually says, I am wiser than thou; and there is a species of pharisaism, of self-seeking, of spiritual pride in her very selfabasement. The exclusionism of her system engenders a sort of comparison of herself with others, which is not the less supercilious for assuming the guise of humility. Should Mary chance to take up so legal a work as ours, she will probably say, "Poor men, they mean well; we cannot enlighten ourselves; thank God, I am enlightened;" all which, though sounding very humbly, we should respectfully designate as very supercilious. I am a special favourite of Heaven; more light is given to me than to others, especially such poor unhappy people as Mrs. Harding; would sound to us as egotistical as the prayer of the Pharisee himself. Mary is constantly making, tacitly at least, these comparisons; for example:

"Mrs. Harding, unable to take her eyes off self, and rest them on the atoning blood, continued in her own perplexing opinions and unprofitable anxieties. Mary felt for her, and wished it were possible

to do more, but, assured that faith was the gift of God, she could only plead with Him for her friend's peace, and bless His name that she had herself been so graciously delivered from legal fears into the glorious liberty of a child of God.'" p. 91.

What is this but virtually saying, "Thank God, I am not as other men are ;" and assuming, as it were, a sort of protectorship of others, in virtue of having, as it were, a more favoured audience at the throne of God? Mary does not, indeed, mean to be proud or presumptuous; she is sincere and humble, she is full of love to God and to man, of faith and of good works; but there is this latent feeling of favouritism in all she says and does. It mixes with her very prayers. It is one great beauty of our church prayers that they really are prayers; Mary's prayers of necessity become, in part at least (with much that is excellent), theological declarations. For example, in her prayer she tells God:

I am saved! saved without condition; the Lord's own Christ has shed his blood

for me; my sins are blotted out, my transgressions remembered no more; I am corruption made complete in Him." justified from all things; this mass of

p. 82.

We do not like this style. It is not praying, but preaching; and preaching to God; and it wants the deep humility with which the Christian should approach his throne.

The village circle of "the religious world," in which Mary alights, societies, that they give themselves, are all so busy with schools and poor wretches, no rest or enjoyment; and they are represented as being as uncharitable to others as severe to themselves. In what province of "professing Christians" could the author have possibly picked up such a choice specimen as the following? and mark, the absurd rigour which is condemned is not represented as a crotchet of some one strait-laced

narrow-minded individual, but the of the whole religious body of the judgment of the two representatives village. These two ladies were making their weekly collections among the poor.

66

"Yes, this is all very well, but you must try and get to church twice next Sunday; no one can hope to prosper who does not use the means of grace, and we cannot think of encouraging any one who neglects her duty.'

The tears came into the girl's eyes, but she said nothing, and the visitors took their leave." pp. 119, 120.

The author represents these delectable visitors as tormenting the poor by their questions; "scarcely touching upon the subject of religion," but making rigid inquisition into their family economy, their management of their affairs, their children's clothes, and their general habits. There may be busy bodies, prying people, who do all this; who visit the poor more in a spirit of curiosity or uncalled-for interference, than in true Christian charity; but the evil of the story is, that the reader will be too apt to apply it generally, and there is nothing in the book to prevent his doing so. The incidental hint about these re

ligious visitors "scarcely touching upon the subject of religion," is more pungent than charitable. Are our Lucilla Stanleys-many such, we trust, are among us-to be thus virtually held up to the poor as stiff, stern, censorious, intruders upon their privacy? Yet such an application will be made by the general reader; and many an enemy to the cause of Divine truth will be glad here to sharpen his arrow to pierce its vitals. The author means not this-again and again we insert this disclaimer-but the result, we fear, will be as we have stated.

The author goes far-a-field to find objections to the religious world; in particular, the dress of the ladies offends him-or probably we should say her. And what is the fault? Are their bonnets too large; their ribbons too broad; their flounces too numerous; their colours too gay? No; quite the contrary-they are dowdy, dingy, russet-clad nuns, making religion distasteful by their want of moderately fashionable clothing; and particularly objecting to Mary's

"two flounces; her handsomely worked collars, expensive shawl, fashionable bonnet, silk stockings, and large massive gold chain round her neck." Now, it happens oddly enough receiving letters containing quite a that we are constantly contrary complaint; and urging us, as Christian observers, to reprove the alleged growing addiction of the ladies of the religious world to the dress and manners of the secu lar world. We should be happy to learn that Mary's charge is really true; we certainly see no tendency to over preciseness in habits and ornaments in the private parties, the religious assemblies, or the public meetings of the religious world; and, were it so, the error would at least be on the right side. cannot find Mary's ascetic village of Dunbury in our map; when we discover it, it will be time enough to lament that the religious world are all become Quakers; or, as our author expresses it, dress in "close caps without ribbons, and brown gowns high up round the throat, and shoes of leather or black stuff," to the great disparagement of religion.

We

But the religious world must be made ridiculous even in matters of benevolence. For example:

"Mrs. Darling was truly a benevolent woman, and sought out objects on whom to bestow her charity; she did not limit it to her own immediate neighbourhood, for besides the many public institutions to which she contributed, she relieved many individuals to whom her name was never known. She would pay for the education of any worthy clergyman's son, if his income was small and his means limited. She would in like manner furnish money to set up a deserving person in business; and privately send assistance to such as

were reduced in their circumstances. She would lend her aid to all around her in a variety of ways, supplying their tables, and furnishing them with unexpected comforts." p. 76.

Yet this woman is only noticed to be laughed at. Her tones of voice, and her garb, are caricatured; and, above all, her silliness in "ploughing up her park to plant potatoes and turnips for the poor;"

at which "the tall lady laughed much." The tall lady might have respected her motive, unnecessary and injudicious as might be this instance of her self-denial. But then Mrs. Darling was "a widow lady who gave support to every description of religious institution;" ergo a member of " the religious world," and, above all, "a mortificationist," and therefore fair game.

The two Miss Straitbacks discovered, says Mary, that " excursions of mere pleasure did not suit them at all; they found their minds unfitted for their duties, and they resolved never again to make the experiment." If they really found this we would not sneer at them as "straitbacks," for coming to this self-denying resolution; but Mary takes a different view: "I was quite at a loss to understand them;" adding, "for my part, I find a little variety is rather beneficial than otherwise;" a sentiment which we presume most of the younger, and some of the elder members of "the religious world" itself will practically echo; but we see no necessity for making it oracular. We rather suspect that neither the religious world nor the gay world is too steady, or requires grave lectures on "the benefits of a little variety." We fear we should have much difficulty in finding a dozen Miss Straitbacks among us. But then London is not Dunbury, We wish that a few of these active and self-denying, though too precise, ladies would settle among us. We could find them plenty of work: their more volatile friends might profit by their example; while they in return might shake off their awkward habits, and become a little more sociable.

Our author is also much displeased at the rigidness of the religious world, in their manner of spending Sunday; particularly in not opening their letters, and, above all, in eating cold dinners, respecting which a very merry story is told to make it the more ridiculous.

A clergyman eating a cold dinner after preaching a good sermon is also much pitied; but in truth, "there was a spirit of legality among them all [about the obser-, servance of the Sabbath], which was terribly oppressive." Our author ridicules this "legality;" but where would he stop? Would he recommend a general post delivery in London, and Lord Mayor's feasts on Sunday? Some people may be too precise; but there is so little danger on this side, that a Christian moralist may well throw his weight into the opposite scale.

But we must turn somewhat more distinctly to the theology of the volume; which, in our view, is such a mixture of very good and very bad as requires a careful analysis. We shall quote a few passages in illustration of this remark; append ing here and there a brief comment. The exceptionable part is not so much in any direct statement as in a tendency of the whole to leave a wrong impression. For example:

I was a thoughtless lively girl, ready for all kinds of frolic, and she used to tell me such ways wouldn't do. Oh, says I, Fanny, I've time enough before me to grow serious. Time enough! she would say ; Sally, how can you tell what time you may have? you may die to-morrow. I used to hear her talk, and take my own ways: but God remembered me for good, and sent messenger after messenger till He brought me home to Christ."

p. 28.

The inference which the author intends to convey from this is, doubtless, the sovereignty of the grace of God, and the gratitude of the true believer: but is not the passage somewhat open to the inference, that it is of little consequence in the end whether we endeavour to turn to God or not; that the means of grace are of no great importance, for that when grace comes it will come irresistibly?

Again:

"Mary felt relieved of an anxiety which had more or less weighed on her mind some days past. This anxiety arose from a deep sense of inward incapability of any one good thought, feeling, desire, or endeavour. She had compared herself with

the Spirit, justified by the righteousness and blood of Christ, preserved by a covenant-keeping, unchanging God, raised up when fallen, restored to communion with his Lord, and kept unto the end." p. 213. "Ifs there are none." We have just quoted one "if" from the Psalms; for plenty more, see the Bible passim. "If ye then be risen with Christ, seek the things which are above;"" If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature;" "If ye know these things, happy are ye, if ye do them;"" If any man draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure

in him.'

Again :

"I had some very grievous temptations which broke in upon my happiness, and made me apprehensive of my interest in Christ; indeed so severe were the attacks at times, that I almost thought of giving all up: but this was my day of mercy, I was enabled to see the certainty of my calling and election; I could discover that the sinner was acquitted from all sin by the death of Christ, and daily washed from the pollution of it by His blood; I saw that all my attempts (I might almost say my struggles) to attain that internal holiness, which I fancied was required previous to my being justified from sin,

were of no value as a condition of salvation; I saw that my righteousness was already wrought out, if I was a believer, (and this I knew I was,) and that the ransom included all things." pp. 216, 217. The inference is, that after this period "grievous temptations," though they still recurred, no longer "broke in upon her happiness," and least of all" made her apprehensive of her interest in Christ." We envy not this happiness.

Again:

"Suppose the believer to be dwelling much on his own sins, and thus getting into a dissatisfied, dispirited state, by which he impeaches the Mediatorial character of Christ; or that he is resting on his own performances, and leaning to something in self, (to the elation of his own spirit and disregard of his Master's glory); or that he is turning away hie eyes from the source of his spiritual being, forgetting that his strength is in the Lord, and thus preparing himself to fall by the first temptation that presents itself in the shape of a favourite attraction. In all these situations, the believer is under the influence of natural feelings, aided by the suggestions of Satan, and the old man of sin speedily revives again, and threatens to destroy the new creation. But as God's faithfulness is unmoveable, therefore though the just inan falleth seven times

·

he riseth up again;' for we are assured in numberless passages that the chosen people of God shall never utterly fall." pp. 312, 313.

The "believer," therefore, when he transgresses the law of God ever so greatly, is not "to dwell on his sins," lest "he should get into a dissatisfied dispirited state;" but is at once to cheer his spirits by remembering" that the chosen people of God shall never utterly fall.” He is not, it seems, to ask the preliminary question, "Am I one of the chosen people of God" which a deep sense of aggravated sin might at the moment well make himi tremble in answering; but he is to take this for granted, lest he should become dispirited" and lose his