its varied manifestations; in forms, pomps, gaieties, austerities, and image worship, have all been imperfectly glanced at. Some of its more palpable fruits have been seen in the accumulated enormities of its licentious priesthood. The exposure of the actual state of the few schools withering beneath its shade, and the fact of the general ignorance and cruelty of a pecple so long and so completely under its sway, were not needed to prove that knowledge is abhorrent to that system which has coined for itself the detestable maxim'ignorance is the mother of devotion.' Central America in its actual state, and in its history, is an unimpeachable witness that popery is the prolific mother of ignorance, superstition and crime; or, in other words, the crater from which moral darkness, cruelty and death are continually belched forth upon all within its reach. The truth of this will be most clearly perceived both in the amount and in the species of criminality that prevails. One of the greatest curses that popery entails, is doubtless, the servile bondage to which it reduces the nobler powers of the mind. Another scarcely inferior injury which it inflicts, lies in the false liberty which it pampers in the unrenewed mind,-a liberty more cruel and destructive than even its bondage, and certainly more manifestly evil in its licentious and corrupting effects. The subtlety of the Deceiver is singularly apparent in the devices by which he aids his popish subjects to stifle the voice of conscience, and in a measure free them from its wholesome restraints. The chief agency by which this end is accomplished is priestly absolution, with its adjuncts, confession and penance. The belief that sin can be pardoned while the love of it is retained, or that it may be atoned for by the sinner himself who indulges in it, must blunt the point of every scruple, and cannot but degenerate into the practical toleration of every species of iniquity and vice. It is subversive of the justice of God, and therefore destructive to honesty in man. And precisely to that extent to which it prevails, it produces moral and physical death. Its fearful effects are legible in colossal and blood-red charac ters, upon the face of Central American society. The general prevalence of crime in Central America, while it corroborates what has been said of its religion, affords the best criterion of the real state of the people, and supplies superabundant reasons for commiserating it. Where the restraints of public opinion, the arm of the law, and the voice of conscience are so weak, it need scarcely be said that crime luxuriates in profuse variety, and that its deadly fruits abound. There are, however, some forms of criminality which prevail more than others, and foremost amongst these are murders and assassinations, which are matters of daily occurrence in Central America. They are so frequent as scarcely to excite any attention, and no signs of feeling whatever, where there is not a special interest in the parties concerned. Taught by the example of the Spaniard, every native wears in his belt a large sharp-pointed knife-most frequently of British manufacture—which is encased in a leathern sheath, more or less ornamented. Though the law imposes a penalty upon all who carry deadly weapons, it is seldom concealed; and the practice of going armed, especially at night or when travelling, is universally allowed. Caballeros, (gentlemen) carry sables (sabres) in their hands under their cloaks, and frequently pistols in their pockets. No saddle is complete without its holsters. Donnas and Senoras sometimes carry their jewelled poignards, and the market-women of San Saloader are famed for wearing knives like the men, only girded in their garters, the naked blade or the sheath being lodged between the stocking and the skin. On the most trivial occasions, and at the least provocation, the knife is drawn and wielded with fearful skill, nor does it often return to its sheath until it has drunk the vital stream of one of the combatants. Men are trained from their very infancy to the art of stabbing. It is common to see boys of all ages in the streets, and at their play, stabbing at each other with their extended right hand, or with a piece of wood in it, and warding off the stabs of their play-fellows with their hats clenched in their other hand, or a garment thrown over their left | Vispera (the night before when these arm in imitation of the men. Indeed disorders begin,) be included-the rethis sight is more frequent in Central sult for the capital alone is 480 lives America, than it now is to see English annually sacrificed. And there is boys sparring with their fists. In the probably a greater number of wounded case of Central American children who recover. their contest is a mere diversion, and it is by no means common to see them fight. Their mild disposition is doubt- | less one reason for this, and when quarrels occur, they generally avoid each other, or vent their malice in some other way. The great bulk of all the murders that take place are confined to the lower order of Ladinos and Indians, most ly such as are or have been soldiers, and they occur almost without exception in the brawls and quarrels consequent upon their carousals, or arising out of gambling transactions, or jealous intrigues. * Such scenes occur, especially after the solemnities of the church, on Sunday evenings, and during the idle Dias de dos Crucis. These periods are invariably marked by revelries, followed by midnight brawls; and the day after each fiesta, and every other festival, not omitting the sabbath day, the sun rises on the corpses of the slain, or the mangled bodies of the wounded. In the city of Guatemala alone, every such occasion furnishes from four to eight cases of this kind. The bodies are conveyed to the hospital to be claimed or dissected, and when life is not extinct, to receive the attentions of the surgeons, who have so much practice in that line as to ensure more than ordinary skill. The awful and heart-rending consequences of these facts may be imagined, but not described. It must not be forgotten, that as the fiestas of the church are more than half as many as the Sundays, there are full eighty feast-days and Sundays in the course of one year. Taking the number of killed at the average of six for each fiesta-which is not too much if the murders of the * Days of two crosses, so called because thus distinguished in the calendars, which declare them to be equally binding with the Lord's-day for hearing mass and abstaining from work. There are about twenty of them in the year, besides those of only one cross. In addition to this enormous amount of idle time, every town and remote village has its peculiar days in honour of its patron saint, and even then all the opportunities which the church furnishes for deeds of blood have not been enumerated. It will therefore appear the less surprising, though not a whit the less horrifying, as the result of these murders, together with those more isolated cases which occur on ordinary days, and the numbers slain in civil wars and revolutions, that the proportion of females to males in the entire population of the five states is, at the present day, as four or five to one! This fact, which is generally acknowledged throughout the country, speaks volumes in support of the views here taken of popery. It speaks also, to the mere philanthropist, and how much more to the enlightened christian, of duties yet to be performed towards this people. Shall we continue to supply them only with the instruments of their deadly cruelty, and not make an effort to communicate the gospel, which is alone adequate to implant the fear of Him whose law proclaims "Thou shalt not kill,' and whose gospel at once inculcates the love of God and love to one another. That the general standard of morality is so low, and that the appreciation of the enormity of murder, in particular is so defective, can only be accounted for by the peculiar genius of Central American religion, and by the character of the education which is carried on both in its schools and in its amusements, for the mild disposition of the people is decidedly opposed to such deeds. This laxity of morals and prevalence of crime, are sustained by the venality of those rulers who are intrusted with offences, as well as by the priests. Eithe detection and the punishment_of ther the alcayde or juez (judge) is himself comparatively unimpressed with its heinousness, and with the sanctity of the law, or, intimidated by threats, he is afraid of falling by the knife of the relatives or accomplices of the criminal: in many cases his hand has been weakened by receiving a bribe. These causes, together with the inefficiency of the police force, the imperfect state of the prisons, and the facilities which the country and the people afford for concealment, all tend to deprive hu. man justice of its victims; and criminals of every kind are at large, whilst comparatively trivial offences only are ade. quately punished, and political partizans are mercilessly shot.-From Crowe's Gospel in Central America. COLERIDGE. fully he talked. This was the impression of everybody who heard him. It is no secret that Coleridge lived in the Grove at Highgate with a friendly family, who had sense and kindness enough to know that they did themselves honour by looking after the comforts of such a man. His room looked upon a delicious prospect of wood and meadow, with coloured gardens under the window like an embroidery to the mantle. I thought, when I first saw it, that he had taken up his dwelling-place like an abbot. Here he cultivated his flowers, and had a set of birds for his pensioners, who came to breakfast with him. He might have been seen taking his daily stroll up and down, with his black coat and white locks, and a book in his hand, and was a great acquaintance of the little children. His main occupation, I believe, was reading. He loved to read old folios, and to make old voyages with Purchas and Marco Polo; the seas being in good visionary condition, and the vessel well stocked with botargoes sausages of eggs and red mullet.-Autobiography of Leigh Hunt. COMPENSATIONS OF BIBLI CAL LEARNING. COLERIDGE was fat, and began to lament, in very delightful verses, that he was get ting infirm. There was no old age in his verses. I heard him one day, under the Grove at Highgate, repeat one of his melodious lamentations, as he walked up and down, his voice undulating in a stream of music, and his regrets of youth sparkling with visions ever young. At the same time, he did me the honour to show me that he did not think so ill of all modern liberalism as some might suppose, denouncing the pretensions of money getting in a style which I should hardly venture upon, and never could equal; and asking with a triumphant Look to the history of the living men eloquence, what chastity itself were of most note in this branch of sacred worth, if it were a casket, not to keep love learning. Where is Thomas Hartwell in, but hate, and strife, and worldliness? Horne? Fixed in the most expensive On the same occasion he built up a city in the world, in a small city parish, metaphor out of a flower, in a style with three hundred and six pounds a surpassing the famous passage in Mil-year, and honoured with the least of all ton; deducing it from its root, in religious mystery, and carrying it up into the bright, consummate flower, 'the bridal chamber of reproductiveness.' Of all 'the muse's mysteries,' he was as great a high-priest as Spencer; and Spencer himself might have gone to Highgate to hear him talk, and thank him for his 'Ancient Mariner.' His voice did not always sound very sincere: but perhaps the humble and deprecating tone of it, on those occasions, was out of consideration for the infirmities of his hearers, rather than produced by his own. recited his Kubla Khan' one morning to Lord Byron, in his lordship's house in Piccadilly, when I happened to be in another room. I remember the other's coming away from him, highly struck with his poem, and saying how wonder 6 He the London prebends, which makes the handsome addition of eleven pounds a year, to his income! Therefore his days are given to the British Museum, and to the dreary work of cataloguing. Where is Samuel T .Bloomfield? He is what he was in 1814, vicar of Bisbrooke, Rutland, with an income of £252 by the year; and a year or two ago there came to pass, concerning him, one of the strangest things we ever heard of-that he, a clergyman for whom the richest church in the world has such ample means of providing for according to his acknowledged claims, was thrust as a pensioner for £200 a year, upon that miserable scanty fund at the disposal of the Government for the use of literary men! Then there is Dr. Samuel Lee. It might have been expected that bishops and chancellors would have hastened to shower benefits and honours upon one who has so long enjoyed the reputation of being the first Biblical Orientalist in this country. But what is the fact? That he was allowed to go on some thirty years without any notice from the church whatever, deriving his income from entirely extrinsic sources-a poor professorship, aided by superintending the Oriental studies of young missionaries and by editorial labours for the Bible Society. At length, in his old age, he has obtained an incumbency, afford ing an income not greatly below that of a middle class tradesman, and which would have availed him much had it come twenty years sooner than it did. George Stanley Faber was more fortunate. He obtained early, through Epis copal patronage, about the same benefits that Dr. Lee found only late in life. Rector of Long Newton he became, and rector of Long Newton he remained, until in his old age he was glad to accept the higher advantages which the mastership of Sherburn Hospital offered. He may have seemed fortunate compared with many of his brethren in the afflictions of biblical scholarship; but we must consider what he obtained, in connection with what the church has the means of bestowing, and with what it does bestow on men of another sort.--North British Review. THEOLOGICAL CABINET. ON THE REVELATION OF ST. JOHN. WHO has not felt much anxiety to know more clearly and more fully the meaning of many portions of Holy Writ? How much there is in it most awfully sublime. How much deeply mysterious. And then how diversified the views of great and learned men. It is scarcely possible to get any two or three of them into agreement on the difficulties presented, or as to the proper key for unlocking these holy treasures. Hence after the reader has studied Brightman, Cowper, Perkins, Mede, and of later times, Cummings, Burder, and Stuart, he will probably feel as uncertified on many subjects as before. It is really pleasing after this to turn to a work in which the author has endeavoured to simplify, and make clear and practical, this concluding Book of the inspired Scriptures: The Apocalypse Unveiled,' by the Rev. Jas. Young of Edinburgh, is the work referred to; the first volume only as yet is published, but we think that the reader cannot fail to be edified by the following extract of his exposition on the first verse. We argue good things respecting this pious attempt to render the Apocalypse useful and edifying to the members generally of Christ's church. "The Revelation of Jesus Christ, This sacred book is called the Revelation, or Apocalypse. The name expresses its sacred character. The word signifies to make known, or manifest what is hidden or concealed. Matt. x. 26; xi. 25. For It is called the Apocalypse, to express its origin. It is the word of the living God; given by divine inspiration, and invested with divine authority. holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost. It is called the Apocalypse to express its nature. It gives a blessed manifestation of the character, counsels, and dealings of God. The sealed book is opened, and the great designs of heaven are gloriously unfolded. It is called the Apocalypse to express its object. There is an objective revelation of the character and will of God in general, which is given in his word; of the great plan of mercy which is given in the Gospel; of the great events of providence which are given in sacred prophecy. It is called the Apocalypse to express its subject. There is a subjective revelation experienced by the saint, consisting in the saving illumina tion of the spirit. I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them to babes.' Matt. xi. 25; Psa. cxix. 18. It is called the Apocalypse to express its great design. The word signifies to remove the veil that covers or conceals an object from view. He will destroy the face of the covering cast over all people, and the veil that is spread over all nations. The veil that covers the past is removed; dark and mysterious councils of heaven, dark and mysterious divine dispensations, dark and mysterious divine predictions, are all illumined, partially or fully by the light poured from the eternal throne on these momentous subjects. The veil that covers the present is removed. The present condition of the church on earth is revealed. The present state of the seven golden candle sticks is drawn by an inspired pen, seen by an omniscient eye, and described by the Amen, the Faithful and True Witness,' who cannot be deceived. The present condition of the church in heaven is revealed. How often is the veil of the Holiest drawn aside! How often are we carried to the very verge of heaven and placed within the veil ! How often are we called to contemplate the church above, the angelic hosts, the exalted worship of the celestial world, and the boundless excellence of the great object of divine worship, God the Father, Son, and Spirit. The veil that covers futurity is removed, and the actions and events of far distant ages are presented to the view; it is therefore called a prophecy, ver. 3. Here we behold the fortunes of the world, and the vials, and triumphs of the church of Christ to the very end of time. And these great objects, we contemplate and anticipate with the highest confidence and the full est expectation. The veil that covers eternity is removed. Life and immortality are brought to light by the gospel. The glory and felicity of our eternal state are here described with a pencil dipt in heaven, and an eye that has been ravished with its splendours and blessedness. There is, notwithstanding this glorious manifestation, considerable darkness resting on this book. It is denominated 'The Mystery of God.' This obscurity arises from the depth and the darkness of the counsels of heaven, from the symbolical language in which they are revealed, from the prophetic nature of the sacred book; for prophecy requires to be particularly shaded, till it be explained by great events of providence. It arises from a want of an inspired expositor, from the mystery and darkness of divine dispensation, from the conflicting opinions of learned expositors, and from the dulness of human apprehension, the coldness of the heart, the sublimity of the subject, and the peculiar character of many of the events which it describes and foretels. But amid all the mystery with which it is enveloped, there is a light within the cloud, to illuminate and cheer. 'Seal not the sayings of the prophecy of this book, for the time is at hand.' It is called the Revelation of Jesus Christ. It is a revelation from him as the great author, and the great medium, and the great depository, and the great dispenser of divine revelation, and all its hopes, promises and blessings. It is a revelation concerning him as the great subject, the sum and substance of the glorious gospel. It is a revelation through him, as the minister and medium of divine communication, as the great prophet and teacher of the church. The spirit of Christ in the ancient prophets testified of his sufferings and the glory that followed. It is a revelation to him as the great object, the end, the proprietor of the oracles of heaven. It is his-his own peculiar charge, and his own divine prerogative. In him all the lines of divine truth centre; from him all the beams of its glory irradiate; to him all the prophets gave witness. The testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy. Every part of scripture testifies of him, and is connected with the glory of his person and his office. Ancient predictions foretold his obedience, sufferings, and death. The four Evangelists record the fulfilment of these prophetic oracles, and furnish the details of his humbled condition. But in the Re. velation the Lord Jesus Christ appears in all his glory, amid the magnificent scenes of his majesty. This view of his character and glory should endear him to the hearts of all that love his name. This important trust was committed to the Son-Which God gave unto him.' The order of divine communication appears to be the following:-The Father gave the revelation to the Son, Heb. i. 1, 2; the Son declared the message to his angel; the angel revealed it to the apostle John, and John delivered |