and illustrations which, without the affectation of profundity, display his views in a strong and attractive light. He has brought to his task not only talent, but knowledge and discretion, and we have been sometimes tempted to wonder that with so much transparency of style, and with no little tendency to the ornamental in composition, he is so seldom superficial. In the 13th and 14th of the "Fifteen Sermons," preached at the Rolls Chapel, by the celebrated Joseph Butler, Bishop of Durham, this subject is treated in his usual masterly manner, with a clearness and depth which leave nothing to desire within the range

to which he has confined himself. A work, however, which should take a larger scope, and comprehend the different views and bearings of the question, blending popular treatment with philosophical and evangelical discussion, was still wanting, and this important desideratum Mr. Joyce has adequately supplied.

The treatise is divided into 'three parts. The first enumerates the dispositions which are included in Love to God. The second shews the influence of this principle on our conceptions of future happiness. The third argues from it in favour of the inspiration of the Scriptures.

The dispositions comprehended in the grand principle of Love to God, are-Admiration of the Divine Perfections Gratitude A supreme Regard for the Glory of God-A constant desire of the Divine Favour-A habit of Communion and Intercourse with GodA Desire of Similitude to God Delight in his Service Love to our Fellow-creatures. From the Chapter on the Desire of the Divine Favour we select the follow

ing passages as happily conceived, and expressed with much beauty.

"How much is the value even of temporal benefits enhanced by regarding

them, not as dropped at random into our possession by the caprice of fortune or chance, but as immediately presented to us by the hand of a kind and gracious God, and by receiving them as the visible tokens of his parental care, and as plain demonstrations of his willingness to indulge his servants in every happiness consistent with the discipline of the pre

sent state.

"But if a regard for the divine favour would arise even from such views as these, how much more from the conhim partly rests), that the being and hapviction (on which the principle of love to piness and glorious services of every creature depend on the will of God, and that

6

to lose his favour would be to forfeit al! the magnificent gifts and endowments, the sublime glories and delights which the divine bounty has so graciously bestowed. In thy favour (says the how insupportably dreadful would be Psalmist) is life.' To angelic natures the thought of seeing the divine favour withdrawn, and their celestial exercises and blessed employments brought at once to a termination! In this world even, anxiety of mind, the extinction of our where there is so much pain of body and present thoughts and feelings by the stroke of death, is not contemplated without great dread, except by those the word of God, inspires them with whose confidence in the disclosures of new hopes and triumphant confidence. To close our eyes on the beauties of the visible creation, on which we have so frequently gazed with delight; to be torn from a situation in which our affections, like a tree of long standing, have taken deep root; to take a long and last fare

well of those near friends and relatives with whom our feelings are so linked and interwoven, that we are more like the same than different beings; to have the cherished conceptions of the understanding dissipated, and the emotions

and sensibilities of the heart all extin

guished; this is a prospect from which

our nature, if we confine our views within the briefness of the present life, shrinks back and startles with horror.

"But for an angel to close his eyes for ever on the bright and ravishing glories of the blissful vision of God; to quit his sphere of celestial services and enjoyments, and resign his rank among the hierarchies of heaven, that he might sink into nonentity, swallowed up and lost in the wide womb of uncreated

night;' to sing his last hymn of praise,

and touch the last chord of his immortal

harp; to withdraw for ever from the in

numerable company of angels with whom he had exulted in a holy interchange of affection only inferior to the primary and supreme love he felt to God; to abandon

all his divine conceptions, unutterable and incomprehensible by man, and surrender all the glowing and enchanting sympathies and raptures which animate seraphic bosoms; what infinite value must the thought of such a change teach

the inhabitants of heaven to attach to his favour on whom the perpetuation of all their blessings depends!

"This consideration applies with additional force to the race of mankind. For, though we have not so much present bliss as the angels to lose, we have the prospect of glory equal if not superior to theirs; while the alternative of not enjoying the divine favour, is not an utter extinction of being, but what is infinitely more dreadful, an eternity of woe. We are peculiarly situated. Our first parent was taught the value of the divine favour, first by its possession, and then by its loss. We feel its value by the absence

of those heavenly privileges to which it ultimately restores us; by the dreadful alternative to which we are exposed, and by the hope, the confidence, the consolation and joy which it communicates before our departure from the world. And though, in other respects, this present fallen state of man may not be the best post of observation from which to contemplate the divine perfections, yet in one point we may have an exclusive advantage. For the favour of God is exercised and exhibited to us, not merely as an operation of beneficence, but as an act of mercy. Mercy and truth are met together, righteousness and peace have kissed each other.' This attribute of the Godhead might have been unknown before the fall of man to other -parts of the universe, and the redemp tion of the human race may afford a new display of the divine glory, and a new theme of contemplation and astonishment, as well as a new ground of gratitude and love to all the hosts of heaven. Which things (says St. Peter) the angels desire to look into."--pp. 52 -56.

the ancient philosophical theories, with a view to illustrate their imperfect notions respecting the chief good, and to demonstrate the high superiority of the Scripture system. This section does not appear to us quite so satisfactory as the former, nor is its summing up sufficiently specific. Mr. Joyce seems to have been too apprehensive of overlaying his subject, and to have been somewhat too anxious for brevity. An additional chapter on the general character of Revelation, in reference to the leading subject, together with an enlargement of the concluding remarks, seem to us necessary to the completeness of his book.

The length of our preceding extract prevents us from gratifying ourselves by liberal citation; on one additional passage, however, we shall venture; it is from the chapter on Desire of Similitude to God, and exhibits the religious views of the author on an important point of christian doctrine. After a strong delineation of the depravity of human nature, he proceeds as follows:-

"But in proportion to his self-abasement and sorrow on the discovery of his own moral deformity, are his encouragement and delight in the promises of restoration to holiness, which form a portion of the glad tidings of the Scriptures. He rejoices in the prospect of regaining the divine image, which has been effaced; of becoming, according to the declaration of St. Peter, a partaker of the divine nature.' He is cheered by the immediate effect of the Gospel in renewing and progressively exalting the character of men, not only towards its pristine excellence, but a much more glorious elevation of holiness and happiness. For St. Paul reveals this animating truth when he describes Christians as

contemplating the glory of God in the communications of his word, and deriving from thence to their own characters, irradiations of the divine brightness, which renew their nature, and restore them by degrees to the image of God. 'Beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, we are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the spirit of the Lord."

"The joy which these communications

from heaven are calculated to impart to the sincere and penitent Christian, is tempered by the operations of the principle of evil, which is not extinguished, but checked and subdued only, while he remains on earth. As yet, in a greater or less degree, he bears the image of the earthy. The tendency of his nature is still to relapse from holiness. Like water raised above its level, he has still a leaning towards the indulgence of his native dispositions, and requires a constant force to preserve his new elevation. O with what fervour does he look forward to a complete emancipation from all disposition to sin, and to the possession of a perfected nature, which spontaneously adheres to holiness by an invariable and unconquerable attraction! With what sincerity can he employ the words of St. Paul, in reference to his remaining depravity, 'O wretched man that I am, who will deliver me from the body of this death?' And with what comfort does he remember the declaration with which the Psalmist consoled himself under sorrow and despondency: "I shall behold thy face in righteousness; when I awake up after thy likeness, I shall be satisfied with it.' With what triumph the promises of the Gospel inspire his mind: As we have borne the image of the earthy, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly.' We shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is."-pp. 71-73.

We shall close our article with the following extract from Bishop Butler; it is, at once, a most striking passage, and closely connected with the spirit and tendency of the quotation we have just made from Mr. Joyce.

"Consider wherein that presence of a friend consists, which has often so strong an effect, as wholly to possess the mind, and intirely suspend all other affections and regards; and which itself affords the highest satisfaction and enjoyment. He is within reach of the senses. Now, as our capacities of perception improve, we shall have, perhaps by some faculty intirely new, a perception of God's presence with us in a nearer and stricter way; since it is certain He is more intimately present with us than any thing else can be. Proof of the existence and presence of any being is quite different from the immediate perception, the consciousness of it. What then will be the joy of heart, which his presence, and the light of his countenance, who is the life of the universe, will inspire good men with, when they shall have a sensa tion, that He is the sustainer of their

being, that they exist in him; when they shall feel his influence to chear and enliven and support their frame, in a manner of which we have now no conception ? He will be in a literal sense, their strength and their portion for ever.

"When we speak of things so much above our comprehension, as the employment and happiness of a future state, doubtless it behoves us to speak with all modesty and distrust of ourselves. But the Scripture represents the happiness of that state under the notions of seeing God, seeing him as He is, knowing as we are known, and seeing face to face. These words are not general or undetermined, but express a particular determinate happiness. And I will be bold to say, that nothing can account for, or come up to these expressions, but only this, that God himself will be an object to our faculties, that He himself will be our happiness; as distinguished from the enjoyments of the present state, which seem to arise, not immediately from Him, but from the objects He has adapted to give us delight."—pp. 295, 296.

It is quite unnecessary for us to repeat our commendation of this volume; nor will we incur the risk of appearing to abate from our praise, by pointing out the few instances of failure which have presented themselves to us. We have derived so much gratification and instruction from Mr. J.'s book, that we wish him repeated opportunities of adding to its correctness. We would, however, suggest, that in the highly probable event of future editions, it may be desirable to omit, or, at least, considerably abridge, the poetical quotations. The passages themselves are by no means of remarkable rarity, and were it otherwise, they have, to us at least, an unpleasant effect; they give to a grave and serious discussion too much the air of a school-boy's theme; they are out of place, and call up associations quite at variance with the nature and object of the volume in which they are introduced. We do not, indeed, lay any great stress on this matter, but it seems to us a blemish, and, as far as our own feelings are concerned, we should wish to see it removed.

Hydriotaphia, Urne-Buriall, or, a Discourse of the Sepulchrall Urnes lately found in Norfolk. By Thomas Browne, D. of Physick. Quarto. 1658.

WE must forewarn our readers not to be alarmed at the unsoliciting title of the book. For though the subject may appear gloomy, and all its associations dull and uninviting, and the epithet "dry stuff" might well have characterized such a work, coming from any ordinary pen, or even from the whole society of Antiquaries, yet we can assure them that a more cu

rious assemblage of historical facts and personages, or a more brilliant display of fancy, philosophy, and sentiment is scarcely to be found in the whole circle of English literature. "Flat and flexible truths are beat out by every hammer;" but Sir T. Browne is not one of the hammermen of literature. To those readers who are delighted with the ordinary stuff which fills a large proportion of modern pub lications, and which is both muddy and chaffy, no writer probably would be less interesting than the present; and even to a much larger class, who have some just pretensions to intellect and taste, hardly any theme could be introduced less promising than an essay upon a few ancient Urns, or a disquisition on the calcined dust found in them. They would be ready to say, let the Antiquarian revel, like another Laird of Monkbarns, amidst a rabble of conjectures, all equally plausible, and equally unimportant, and assign the Urns to what era, and the bones to what owner he please; but, for the sake of discovering the name of some unknown Roman, or of fixing the burying-place of some half-savage, half-human

Saxon, we are neither disposed to turn moles to scoop the earth, nor spiders to lodge in the mouths of empty pitchers. But let us remind such, that hard and crabbed shells often contain sweet and milky kernels, and unsightly faces may be but masks for angelic minds. Let them step into this illuminated cemetery, and they will find that even Urn-burial is not a dull or uninstructive theme, but that when the Antiquarian is combined with the general historian, and the historian with the moralist, and when all these are identified with the Christian philosopher, all the dry bones shall live again, and the empty pitchers prove full of intellectual light. We shall be greatly surprised if any of our bookish readers regret their descent, even from the high Parnassian regions, to contemplate, with Sir Thomas Browne, these funeral relics, and to view these mansions of the mighty dead, of all ages and nations, which he has here opened and garnished with a mightier wand than ever enchanter used. The man of genuine taste will find them more fresh and fragrant than Contemplations on a Flower Garden, and the lovers of the true sublime will prefer them to any Meditations among the Tombs they ever read.

From the trivial incident of the discovery of a few urns at Walsingham, in Norfolk, the learned and ingenious author takes occasion to discourse of all the various modes of burial and ceremonies used at the obsequies of men of all nations, and has endeavoured to trace the principles and views upon which these various rites were founded. He has not only brought before us an immense variety of opposing institutions and customs, used in different nations,

but he has done much to reconcile them to general principles, and has produced a work which, with none of the ambition of a modern title-page, is strictly a treatise on the philosophy of relics and funeral rites.

Nor is the transition from the Norfolcian urns, to the general questions with which they stand connected, at all violent or forced. The particular fact is soon dismissed, and the general history of obsequies taken up in its whole and vast extent; thus a mere insulated fact, around which few could have done more than arrange some trite and contracted observations, Sir T. Browne has made the centre of a circle embracing all ages and nations, and irradiated, in every direction, with the creations of his own bright and captivating genius.

But it is high time that we should attempt to verify our estimate of this most exquisite and most original of Browne's works, by some specimens of the manner in which he has treated his subject, and of the curious and beautiful forms in which he has presented it. We are not sure that the author proposed to himself any regular method of procedure, and we must, therefore, decline any attempt at regular analysis, and take our extracts as they present

themselves.

Thus he commences his first chapter.

"In the deep discovery of the subterranean world, a shallow part would satisfie some enquirers; who, if two or three yards were open about the surface, would not care to wrack the bowels of Potosi, and regions towards the centre. Nature hath furnished one part of the earth, and man another. The treasures of time lie high, in urnes, coynes, and monuments, scarce below the roots of some vegitables. Time hath endlesse rarities, and showes of all varieties; which reveals old things in heaven, makes new discoveries in earth, and even earth itself a discovery. That great antiquity America, lay buried for a thousand years; and a large part of the earth is still in the urne unto us," -p. 1.

He then glances generally at the various modes of interment, cremation, &c. and shows why some nations have chosen to bury, and others to burn their dead. The second chapter is partly occupied with stating the probability that the urns which gave rise to the essay were Roman, with some general remarks on Roman antiquities found in Britain, and the prevalence of burning the dead among the ancient Britons. In the third chapter we find some very curious remarks on the contents of the urns, the ashes, cinders, &c.; upon all of which he is ingenious and erudite, particularly on the supposed mixture of bones contained in them.

"Some finding many fragments of sculs in these urnes, suspected a mixture

of bones in none we searched was there cause of such conjecture, though sometimes they declined not that practise; the ashes of Domitian were mingled with those of Julia, of Achilles, with those of Patroclus: all urnes contained not single ashes; without confused burnings they affectionately compounded their bones; passionately endeavouring to continue their living unions. And when distance of death denied such conjunctions, unsatisfied affections conceived some satisfac

tion to be neighbours in the grave, to lye urne by urne, and touch but in their names. And many were so curious to continue their living relations, that they contrived large, and family urnes, wherein the ashes of their nearest friends and at least some parcels thereof, while their kindred might successively be received, collateral memorials lay in minor vessels about them.

"Antiquity held too light thoughts from objects of mortality, while some drew provocatives of mirth from Anatomies, and juglers shewed tricks with skeletons. When fidlers made not so pleasant mirth as fencers, and men could sit with quiet stomacks, while hanging was plaid before them. Old considerations made few memento's by sculs and bones upon their monuments. In the

Ægyptian obelisks and hieroglyphical figures, it is not easie to meet with bones. The sepulchral lamps speak nothing lesse then sepulture; and in their literal draughts prove often obscene and antick peeces where we finde D. M. it is obvious to meet with sacrificing patera's, and vessels of libation, upon old sepulchral monuments. In the Jewish Hypogeum and subterranium cell at Rome, was little ob