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scanned the cemetery it rested upon another, and another, and another little group of mourners, assembled around the open grave of their loved ones. So swiftly does the reaper, whose name is Death, ply his scythe in the hot and unhealthy land of India.
As the assembly of men separated, a settled gloom could be seen on every face. The communion with the dead was now over, and the battle of life must be resumed. Who can tell the thoughts that flitted through the minds of those who are charged with the government of this land at that moment? A feeling of helplessness seemed to prevail. Would that the feeling had been one of dependence upon the Almighty, and of determination to rule in the fear of him, by whom kings reign and princes decree justice!
Calcutta, 13th August, 1860.
J. A. E. M.
(Original and Selected.)
SCOTLAND AND HER
sufferings alike. In short, Scotland joined in expatriating the Stuarts: her historians bawl out Jacobite songs in her face, and HITHERTO it has been the lot of Scotland, hurl at her all sorts of anti-Whiggish paswith two or three honourable exceptions, to quinades. Time, that great healer of strife, be strangely misrepresented by her histor- has failed to assuage the virulence of these ians. It would almost seem as if the prayer anti-national crusaders. The tide of party of the Jewish patriarch had in her case been passion rises as high in the pages of the granted in the shape of a curse, and that, modern literature, and foams and dashes on whenever her history had to be written, her our native shores with as much fury as it "adversary wrote a book." The conqueror did in the breasts of Scotland's foes cenin many a bloody field, she has fallen, in the turies ago. No cowled priest could more days of peace, into the hands of the Phili- spitefully eye his victim writhing at the stines, and the annals of her victories have stake,—no "Malignant" in the days of the been feebly or falsely recorded by the losing Charleses could gloat more intensely over party. Scotland, at the era of the Reforma- the slaughter of a poor but pious peasantry, tion, became a Protestant country; but the-no Highland reiver could with more good history of her struggle with Popery has will plunge his skein-dhu into the purse or been written in a spirit which might well person of the Saxon from love to "royal bring a smile of complacency over the grim Charlie,"-than these writers evince in features of Antonelli in the Vatican. Scot dealing with their countrymen of the olden land was compelled, in grief and shame, to time. At every name that Scotland delights depose the lovely Queen Mary; but her to honour they direct a shower of mud historians have taken ample revenge on her or missiles. Knox was a savage; Murray by extolling the peccant sovereign into a was a traitor; Melville was a bigot; Henheroine of romance. Scotland insisted on derson was a rebel; Renwick was a fanatic. being Presbyterian; her annalists have made And in every possible form has this bastard it their business to hoot and hiss at the spleen sought a vent for itself of late years: national faith. Scotland became a cove-in "Lays of the Cavaliers" and of "Bothnanted nation; and thereby hangs a tale of well;" in "Domestic Annals" and newsbitter persecution. Her historians have paper articles; in quasi-historical novels agreed to laugh at the covenanters and their adapted for railway reading, such as "Mary
of Lorraine," in which the whole web of in every nursery than "Jack the Gianttruth is industriously untwisted, and inno-Killer." Dr. Arnold believed it to be a complete reflection of Scripture. Coleridge esteemed it the best uninspired summary of evangelical theology ever produced. Dr. Cheever thinks it always keeps its hold on the heart; and James Montgomery says, beautifully and truly, "It would be difficult to name another work in our native tongue of which so many editions have been printed, of which so many readers have lived and died, the character of whose lives and deaths must have been more or less affected by its lessons and examples, its fictions and realities." Not only do the common people confirm the high character of the "Pilgrim's Progress" thus expressed by the learned and great, but the common people were the first to see and prize the peerless excellence of Bunyan's great work, which their superiors now universally acknowledge.
cent young people are tempted to read our history as the evil spirit was said to have taught his dupes to read the Lord's prayer, -backwards; and even in the pages of Blackwood, no longer under the control of Christopher North, whose generous heart would have spurned away, from pure rever ence for Scotland, the unpatriotic, popeclawing intruder, not to speak of Memoirs of Montrose and of Claverhouse, which remind us of the Bourbons of Naples, who, not content with trampling on the liberties of their subjects, insulted them by setting up in their streets monumental statues of the tyrants that had enslaved them. Nor will we go far wrong if we class with these writers, whose minds have been denationalised by the prejudices of education, or something worse, another set of would-be historians, clerical or academical,-whose small ambition it is to pilfer a character for liberality by taking a shy at John Knox and the Reformers over the walls of the institutions which they founded,-who are "willing to wound and yet afraid to strike,"—and are rewarded by the applause of prelatic and cavalier critics on either side of the border, accompanied by that stare of surprise and sneer of ill-disguised contempt with which a company of professional bon-vivants greet the sallies of some half-tipsy presbyter who ventures to take part in their orgies. Spoke like an oracle! they all exclaim, And add Right Reverend to Smug's honoured name. Last and most contemptible of all come those who, in the form of school, and even of nursery books, would poison the streams of knowledge at their fountain-head-the child-strippers and kidnappers of history, who, with the smile of parental fondness on their lips, are fumbling among the best principles and affections of the young, and wiling them away from their natural progenitors. Witness.
So long as the English language lives, it will continue to be read by multitudes of the young at the very period when the imagination and heart are most easily and permanently affected by all the golden stores of heavenly truth with which the fascinating pages of Bunyan overflow. It is all-impor tant, therefore, that Bunyan's Pilgrim should be guarded with sacred care. Selfinterest and superstition have both tried to pervert him to their own vile ends, and make gain of Bunyan's fame.
In regard to the former, an honest publisher says: "There are some malicious men of our profession of lewd principles, hating honesty, and coveting other men's rights, and which we call land-pirates. One of this society is Thomas Bradyl, a printer, whom I actually found printing my book for himself and five more of his confederates; but, in truth, he hath so abominably and basely falsified the true copy and changed the notes, that they have abused the author in the sense and the proprietor of his right, and if it doth steal abroad they put a cheat upon the people."
My object at present is the same as the old publisher's-to prevent a cheat from being put upon the people, not by an altered
Pilgrim's Progress," such as Popery has issued, but an enlarged "Pilgrim's Progress," one-third of which is a forgery. The first edition of the "Pilgrim's Progress" was published in 1678. Only one copy of it is known to exist, the greater part of it likely having been taken to Massachusetts by emigrants. Various changes were made by Bunyan in successive editions. At the end of the first part, which for a time constituted the whole book, he gave a hint that he might add to it. He had good cause to complain that selfish men had used this for their own vile ends.
'Tis true, some have of late, to counterfeit
tory Notes by the Rev. W. Mason;" and the third part begins thus :-" After the two former dreams concerning Christian and Christiana, I fell asleep again, and the visions of my head returned upon me." Here is a double fiction,-first, that this third part is the production of Bunyan; and secondly, that Mason wrote notes on it, both of which are false. As this forgery, like every other, should be exposed, and as certain of its contents are pernicious, I beg attention to the following facts :
1. John Bunyan is remarkably distinguished, as Lord Macaulay has clearly shown, for the plainness and purity of his simple Saxon-English style. Whole pages of his contain scarcely a word above two syllables. Bunyan's style, says Cheever, grew out of his habitual and exclusive familiarity with the English Bible. He little thought he was thus acquiring a mastery over the purest form of the English language. Not spoiled by other books, his child-like spirit spoke in the simple, sweet Saxon language of home and childhood, full of grace, and easy to all. How entirely different from this is the language, style, and whole structure of the third part, as any one may see from multitudes of such passages as these "They lay an embargo on their faith; "thus having habituated and used themselves to a jocular vein; "stands capitulating with temptations; "returned thanks to the Sovereign Giver of all good gifts, the Creator and Preserver of all mankind, for refreshing them with his good creatures; "the non-ultra of law and Gospel; "❝in him all the vices of the world disembogue themselves as in a common emunctory." It is not necessary to multiply examples, as they may be found in every page, nor specify instances of bad grammar, which also abound.
In 1692 there appeared a forgery claiming to be a third part of Bunyan's "Pilgrim," which so far succeeded in deception as to reach a sixth edition in 1705. In 1708 it was publicly denounced as an imposture. The London Quarterly Review says that this forgery-"The Adventures of Mr. Tender Conscience is most unworthy to be bound up, as it sometimes is, with Bunyan's matchless parable." But bound up it still unhappily is, and therefore I now write. John Newton asserts that a common hedgestake deserves as much to be compared with Aaron's rod as this poor performance to be obtruded on the world as the production of John Bunyan. But John Newton is in his grave, and the world is professedly much wiser than in his day, yet this poor performance is obtruded as John Bunyan's still. Dr. Ryland says that when an anonymous scribbler tried to obtrude his stuff on the world as a third part of "Pilgrim's Progress," the cheat was soon discovered, and that every Christian of good taste could as easily see the difference as between fine cambric and coarse sacking. But Dr. Ryland and John Newton had both too high an estimate of the public understanding and Christian taste, for it is quite common for good Christians of taste and discernment to read the third part without even a suspicion that it is a forgery; and, to the shame of Philip, in his life of Bunyan, he says, "The third part may not be Bunyan's, but it is the production of a man of real genius. Bunyan's first biographer claims it for him, though his first editor does not even mention" end." it. I should be glad to find that it was Bunyan's." As being truly and really Bunyan's, it is now in different editions circulated; one, for example, published in London, another by Milner and Sowerby, Halifax. The latter of these is entitled, "The Pilgrim's Progress, in three parts, by John Bunyan, to which is added Explana
2. Another grand characteristic of Bunyan, wholly denied to his poor imitator, is a rich humour and dazzling wit, properties of true genius, such as break forth with greatness and beauty in "John Gilpin," even from the deep darkness of Cowper's melan. choly, which, as a wise man says, makes the fancy chuckle while the heart doth ache.
3. Even in the peculiarities or, as some deem them, defects or obscurities of Bunyan, the difference between the sterling and the counterfeit appears-for example, in his use of "a" for "have," and of the word
4. Though a learned gentleman, who wrote against Bunyan, calls him so very dirty a creature that he disdains to defile his fingers with him, yet there is not, in all his works, an offence against refined sentiment, genuine modesty, or Christian taste. Not so with his sordid imitator, who, in his third book, writes and repeats things so
vile that they deserve a place in Dean | Physician, but by a strong crutch of lignum Swift's "Gulliver" or "Tale of a Tub." vite, which Goodwill gave him, telling him 5. There are other differences of far that it had a particular virtue to stay the greater importance, one of which is, the bleeding of wounds. Forthwith he was difference in the respect paid to Goodwill, much comforted, eased, and supported by who opens the wicket-gate, by Christian, the crutch; for no sooner was he in possesChristiana, and Mr. Tender Conscience, sion of it, but his wounds abated bleeding, who is the hero of the forged book third. and, by the time it grew warm in his hand, Both Christian and Christiana give him it sent forth a certain odoriferous perfume, high honour, calling him Lord, and ask him which exceedingly refreshed his spirit, and to remove the burden of their sin; and he found himself becoming stronger and Bunyan, too, describes him as the Lord at stronger by the healing virtue of this wonthe head of the way, who by word and deed derful crutch. grants pardon. On the contrary, neither 7. All this smacks strongly of Popery; from the author nor hero of the third book and the Popish character of the forgery is have we any intimation of the Divine nature still farther manifest, first, in its multitude of Goodwill; he is a mere man, and no of misquotations of Scripture, and, secondly, more; he may be gatekeeper for a Unita-in its numerous quotations from the Apocryrian Elysium, but he could not open the pha as of Divine authority. How a biogate of the narrow way which leads to John grapher of Bunyan like Philip could wish Bunyan's heaven. his hero proved ignorant of the Bible, and enamoured with the Apocrypha, is more than I can tell.
6. Another essential difference is, that Bunyan's pilgrims receive blessings solely through the instrumentality of the truth of God's Word, while with Mr. Tender Conscience the case is far different. Is Christian or Christiana convicted, converted, comforted, made triumphant? All are by means of the truth, the truth of God alone. This is the true Protestant, the true evangelical principle, which honours the Bible and the God of the Bible. Sadly and far away from this is the doleful road of Tender Conscience.
A sorry figure he certainly cuts,-"all over bedaubed with the filth of the Slough of Despond. Being all over clammed with it, he goes at a slow pace, his head hanging down, his hands quivering, and his feet tripping; and a speck or two of the dirt being spattered near his eyes makes him dim-sighted, so that he gropes along like one that is blind." How is he delivered out of this dreadful state? Not certainly in the way Bunyan would have described, but partly by his own penitence, and partly by a miracle, for we are told that, while he sat crying, a bright cloud hovered over his head, which, gradually descending, overshadowed him; and out of the cloud a hand was reached forth, which, with the tears that ran like rivers from his eyes, washed the dirt off his eyes, and his whole body, so that in a moment, as it were, his sight and strength were restored again." All this takes place before Mr. Tender Conscience has entered the strait gate at all. After he has been admitted by Goodwill, of whom he has nothing better to say than that he seemed to be a person worthy of reverence by his grave countenance, and whom he merely asks to tell him where he might find one that had skill to probe his wounds and cure them, if not mortal. How does he get healed? Not by the balm of the Great
8. I shall not dwell on the falsehoods and nonsense contained in the forged part, but merely furnish two specimens. "The first sin that ever was committed in the world was eating."
Though it be not certain whether it proceeded from some natural contagion in the fruit which Adam ate, or from the venomous breath of the Serpent, or some other hidden cause, yet we are sure that, no sooner had he tasted the fatal morsel, but a strange alteration befell him; the faculties of his soul were dislocated and disjointed: this was the effect of irregular eating."
9. The last and chief subject to which I solicit attention is, that this wretched production contains a laboured defence of Popish fasting and of Popish nunneries, not under these names, or in an open, aboveboard way, yet still as thoroughly Popish as the Puseyite writers of the "Tracts for the Times" could wish, and in the true spirit of Miss Sellon and the Bishops of Exeter and Oxford.
Let the Christian public, therefore, be warned and vigilant. In these times of rampant Romanism and Puseyism-in these times when, as Dr. Campbell, in the British Standard, has so clearly and faithfully shown, the University of Oxford, the great head-quarters of aristocratic and Episcopal education, has become head-quarters of Puseyism and scepticism-in these times when the agents of Popery, male and female, are ceasclessly active in undermining truth and liberty-here is a vile, degrading, and Jesuitical production, bound up with the "Pilgrim's Progress," professing to be part of the "Pilgrim's Progress," sold in ignorance by Christian booksellers, and read in ignorance by large numbers at a period of life when injuries may be done to immortal
minds never to be healed. Let all booksellers, therefore, stop the sale of Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress" in Three Parts, and all lovers of truth and honesty prevent its circulation. The taste for reading spreads; let us wisely work the Press. British
INFLUENCE OF A CALVINISTIC
GREED ON THE EMOTIONS.
the daughter of Knox-when, not because she loved her husband little, but because she loved Christ more, she said she would rather receive (kep) his head there than see him betray his Master. I recognise it in that inexpressible exhibition of deep emotion in aged men and youths-pastors, elders-of the Church, as in Synod and Assembly met, they with uplifted hand, and tearful eye, uttered the vow, or, with hand lowered, subscribed the document by which they pledged themselves to the defence of Scotland's faith and liberties. That land of orthordox creed and catechisms-of what some may call rough, uncompromising zeal-is eminently a land of sentiment. Where, on its soil, do I not find myself in sight of classic ground? On many a spot I feel as the patriot would feel at Marathon, or the man who revels in the stirring memories of ancient lore and religion combined, would feel on the shores of Iona. In that land of the mountain and the flood, where is the place on which one might not bow down, and worship the God who nerved the men of other times to do his work, and vindicate his truth? Go with me, in imagination, from the Cairns of Galloway, or the Martyrs' corner in the cemetery of Dumfries-more sacred than the "Poets' Corner" at Westminster— yet I love the poets-or, starting from further south, from Wigton and Solway sands, where, within the range of the rapid tide, those daughters of Scotland undauntedly waited the returning wave, which stifled the voice that confessed the King of kings. I pass by many a mosscapped stone, with its half-obliterated memorials. I come within sight of the Necropolis of a city I much love-of that stalwart figure, with Bible in hand
I CLAIM for Calvinistic doctrine, that while giving precedence to the understanding, it does not less work on the heart and affections. It is, I hold, a wrong imputation, to say that it has no alliance with deep feeling, or adaptation to our emotional nature. I believe that the deep reverence for the sovereignty of God-and that preference too of doctrine to ritualism, or symbolism, which distinguished our reforming ancestors of Scotland and Ireland, and England, in part-this care to give the right place to the Divine authority, and to Divine influence, may be seen to have secured, as we might expect, along with the rights of God, a sacred regard to the rights of the creature, and the obligations of social life. Nay, were we to speak of the religion of the affections, or the influence of system on our emotional nature, I know not where to look for finer specimens of all that is deep in feeling, and exalted in sentiment, than to the history of the confessors of our native land. I speak of Scotland, but I identify with it Protestant Ireland. I have stood on Bothwell Bridge, and mused, but I have also walked round the walls of Londonderry; and I know not if the annals of chivalry itself can supply better examples of all that is lofty and noble in the-Knox, I mean. From an elevation, development at once of the intellectual almost above Glasgow Cathedral-that and of the emotional in man, than is to finest remnant of medieval architecture! be seen in Scotland's history. I see it he looks down on ten generations of in the female, as well as in the masculine the dead, who learned from him the mind. I recognise it in their composed lessons which they taught to their chilbut daring magnanimity in hours of dren; and caught from him the spirit of crisis—in the disinterestedness of their vigilance, with which they guarded their self-sacrificing devotion at the shrine of offspring's best inheritance. I pass by piety and patriotism; I see it in the Edinburgh's venerable Friarground, and ladies of the covenant-in the nocturnal | Aberbrothock's dismantled towers, and visit of that high-born maiden to the find myself, after this brief round of cell of the proscribed martyr, unpro- fancy's travel, at St. Andrews. I stand tected, alone, if so be she could but on the grave of Rutherford. A little bring within the reach of his hiding- apart, I see the place where aged Mill place, bread for the concealed confessor confessed the truth amidst the flames; of Christ. I read it in the language of the spot, too, where Wishart burned;