persons present could hardly be persuaded, that the gentleman in a black suit and cloak, with a scarlet silk waistcoat,' was to be the sufferer. After the sheriff had commanded silence, Sir Henry addressed the crowd. He assured them, that when the warrant had reached his keepers at midnight, a passage in the prophet Zechariah came home to his mind, that the garments of mortality, defiled with his iniquities, were about to be taken from him, that he might be clothed with change of raiment, and a robe washed white in the blood of the Lamb. He then pressed upon public attention the injustice of his arraignment and trial, upon which the trumpeters were ordered to approach, and sound their instruments so loud, that no human voice should be heard. Yet nothing daunted, he proceeded to relate the outlines of his life and conversion; showing, moreover, that in his political career, he was in no degree connected, either directly or indirectly, with the death of King Charles, nor with the blood or estate of any other individual, dead or alive. And now did it appear, as though the whole metropolis responded to his appeal. Every eye ran down with tears, and every breast heaved with indignation. The sight of his noble countenance,-the serene and almost divine composure of his entire deportment, heightened by the recollection of his services and sufferings, and inflamed by an eloquence the admiration of his ablest contemporaries,-began to produce their inevitable consequences. The fame of his defence before corrupt judges, when he had vindicated not merely his own cause, but that of popular freedom, had rung far and wide through the city but now the assembled thousands beheld a yet more marvellous spectacle, in his conquest over any fear of an ignominious and violent dissolution, as well as his magnanimity towards antagonists, less placable than the grave. Royalism listened and trembled. Once again the trumpets sounded, to drown the words of the patriot, and the sobs of his audience. Sir Henry, preserving his usual firmness, only declared his readiness to endure the most bitter treatment, since that of his Divine Master had been far harder. A third time the trumpets were blown; for the multitudes waved to and fro, deepening in their excitement. Sir John Robinson, with two or three others, inhumanly rushed upon the prisoner, and endeavored to seize his papers. The subalterns also thrust their rude hands into his pockets: amidst such brutal violence on their part, and such patient dignity on his, that even a zealous loyalist denounced their brutalism towards a man, who was dying 'like a prince.' Order at last being restored, he prayed with deep pathos and fervid earnestness. The following were a few of his expressions: Bring us, O Lord, into the true mystical Sabbath, that we may cease from our own works, rest from our ' own labours, and become a meet habitation of thy Spirit, through 'the everlasting covenant. Thou knowest, that in the faith of 'Jesus, and for the truth as it is in Jesus, thy servant desires to 'die. When his blood is shed upon the block, let it have a voice 'afterward, that may speak his innocency, and strengthen the 'confidence of thy people in the truth. Let an abundant en'trance be administered into the house not made with hands, 'eternal in the heavens, that when this tabernacle is dissolved, 'we may have peace and joy everlasting. We desire to give no just cause of offence, nor to provoke any, but in meekness to 'forgive our enemies. Thy servant, that is now falling asleep, doth heartily desire of thee, that thou wouldest forgive them, and not lay this sin to their charge.' He then adjusted his person to receive the final stroke; and looking up, he said, 'I bless the Lord, who hath accounted me worthy to suffer for his ' name. Blessed be the Lord, that I have kept a conscience void of offence unto this day. I bless the Lord, that I have not deserted the righteous cause, for which I suffer.' As he bowed his head to the block, he uttered these words: Father, glorify thy servant in the sight of man, that he may glorify thee, in the discharge of his duty this day to thee, and to his country.' In an instant, and at a single blow, the executioner discharged his office! 6 We are told that an ancient traveller, unknown to the world by name, whose extraordinary taste it was to attend public executions, that he might observe the demeanor of the victims, always examined each countenance, whenever he could, immediately as it fell on the scaffold. He was present on this occasion, and observed that, whereas the heads of all he had ever before seen, 'did some way or other move after the severance, as if arguing 'some natural reluctancy to die, the noble head of this sufferer 'lay perfectly still and composed, from the very moment of sepa'ration.' The moral effect of the tragedy is described by Burnet and Pepys as having almost shaken the throne as well as the nation. Ludlow enrolled the sufferer amongst the most heroic martyrs. Such rapturous and glowing sensations appear to have been excited, that his family, through the mere force of public opinion, recovered their estates and honors. These have multiplied down to our own days; as if to mark the blessing of Providence as attached to departed excellence; although, undoubtedly, the present world is seldom a scene of reward to those individuals themselves. But so passed into eternity the holy and patriotic Sir Henry Vane. It has been observed, that in his death, the first age of English liberty reached its termination. It commenced and it closed in blood. Strafford was the earliest victim of the incensed genius of freedom, and Vane was the last great sacrifice offered up to the vengeance of restored despotism; until that movement began under Russel and Sydney, which resulted in the enthrone ment of William. Rare indeed are such statesmen as the one we have just been contemplating. He lived and died for mankind; whilst his love of man altogether rested upon his love of God. As a public servant it may be difficult to affirm whether his abilities, or his industry, were greatest: he recognized the historical assertion, that Labor voluptasque, dissimillima naturâ, societate quâdam inter se naturali sunt juncta; but his piety, beyond a question, far surpassed both. Here lay the lasting amaranth, the glory and immortality of his fame. It was a misfortune that he was so much in advance of his contemporaries, as to receive from them rather admiration than effective support. His writings may be thought by some less simple and intelligible than his actions; nor can it be expected that Episcopalians should admit the force of his arguments against bishops, any more than the controversial opponents of Mrs. Hutchinson should fancy the favor and support which he conscientiously felt bound to render that once celebrated lady. All, however, may agree to offer fair homage to integrity without a stain, to disinterestedness which absorbed selfishness, to an eloquence which emulated the first orators of antiquity, to an ardent patriotism unconquered even by the king of terrors, and to a faith which led him to count all things but loss, that he might know Christ in the power of his resurrection, and be made conformable in heart and life to the precepts of his everlasting gospel. The sneers of Hume, at what he is pleased to style the jargon of his enthusiasm, are amongst the most satisfactory elements of his praise. Even at the foot of the cross itself, and how much less at any human scaffold, infidelity will never learn, that verily there remaineth a reward for the righteous: doubtless there is a God who unerringly governs the earth! Art. II. Lectures on Justification. By JOHN HENRY NEWMAN, B.D., Fellow of Oriel College, and Vicar of St. Mary the Virgin's, Oxford. 8vo. London: Rivington. 1838. THIS volume is dedicated to the Bishop of Oxford, and the advertisement informs us that it was published in answer to 'objections brought against certain essential Christian truths, 'such as Baptismal regeneration and the apostolical ministry,' 'that they were opposed to the doctrine of justification by faith ;' nay to express statements on the subject in our formularies.' Mr. Newman, however, says his 'arguments are drawn not from 'primitive Christianity, but from Scripture ;' they must therefore Jesus, and for the truth as it is in Jesus, thy servant desires to 'die. When his blood is shed upon the block, let it have a voice 'afterward, that may speak his innocency, and strengthen the 'confidence of thy people in the truth. Let an abundant en'trance be administered into the house not made with hands, 'eternal in the heavens, that when this tabernacle is dissolved, 'we may have peace and joy everlasting. We desire to give no 'just cause of offence, nor to provoke any, but in meekness to forgive our enemies. Thy servant, that is now falling asleep, 'doth heartily desire of thee, that thou wouldest forgive them, and not lay this sin to their charge.' He then adjusted his person to receive the final stroke; and looking up, he said, 'I bless the Lord, who hath accounted me worthy to suffer for his name. Blessed be the Lord, that I have kept a conscience void ' of offence unto this day. I bless the Lord, that I have not deserted the righteous cause, for which I suffer.' As he bowed his head to the block, he uttered these words: Father, glorify thy servant in the sight of man, that he may glorify thee, in the discharge of his duty this day to thee, and to his country.' In an instant, and at a single blow, the executioner discharged his office! 6 We are told that an ancient traveller, unknown to the world by name, whose extraordinary taste it was to attend public executions, that he might observe the demeanor of the victims, always examined each countenance, whenever he could, immediately as it fell on the scaffold. He was present on this occasion, and observed that, whereas the heads of all he had ever before seen, 'did some way or other move after the severance, as if arguing 'some natural reluctancy to die, the noble head of this sufferer 'lay perfectly still and composed, from the very moment of sepa'ration.' The moral effect of the tragedy is described by Burnet and Pepys as having almost shaken the throne as well as the nation. Ludlow enrolled the sufferer amongst the most heroic martyrs. Such rapturous and glowing sensations appear to have been excited, that his family, through the mere force of public opinion, recovered their estates and honors. These have multiplied down to our own days; as if to mark the blessing of Providence as attached to departed excellence; although, undoubtedly, the present world is seldom a scene of reward to those individuals themselves. But so passed into eternity the holy and patriotic Sir Henry Vane. It has been observed, that in his death, the first age of English liberty reached its termination. It commenced and it closed in blood. Strafford was the earliest victim of the incensed genius of freedom, and Vane was the last great sacrifice offered up to the vengeance of restored despotism; until that movement began under Russel and Sydney, which resulted in the enthrone ment of William. Rare indeed are such statesmen as the one we have just been contemplating. He lived and died for mankind; whilst his love of man altogether rested upon his love of God. As a public servant it may be difficult to affirm whether his abilities, or his industry, were greatest: he recognized the historical assertion, that Labor voluptasque, dissimillima naturâ, societate quâdam inter se naturali sunt juncta; but his piety, beyond a question, far surpassed both. Here lay the lasting amaranth, the glory and immortality of his fame. It was a misfortune that he was so much in advance of his contemporaries, as to receive from them rather admiration than effective support. His writings may be thought by some less simple and intelligible than his actions; nor can it be expected that Episcopalians should admit the force of his arguments against bishops, any more than the controversial opponents of Mrs. Hutchinson should fancy the favor and support which he conscientiously felt bound to render that once celebrated lady. All, however, may agree to offer fair homage to integrity without a stain, to disinterestedness which absorbed selfishness, to an eloquence which emulated the first orators of antiquity, to an ardent patriotism unconquered even by the king of terrors, and to a faith which led him to count all things but loss, that he might know Christ in the power of his resurrection, and be made conformable in heart and life to the precepts of his everlasting gospel. The sneers of Hume, at what he is pleased to style the jargon of his enthusiasm, are amongst the most satisfactory elements of his praise. Even at the foot of the cross itself, and how much less at any human scaffold, infidelity will never learn, that verily there remaineth a reward for the righteous doubtless there is a God who unerringly governs the earth! Art. II. Lectures on Justification. By JOHN HENRY NEWMAN, B.D., Fellow of Oriel College, and Vicar of St. Mary the Virgin's, Oxford. 8vo. London: Rivington. 1838. THIS volume is dedicated to the Bishop of Oxford, and the advertisement informs us that it was published in answer to objections brought against certain essential Christian truths, such as Baptismal regeneration and the apostolical ministry,' that they were opposed to the doctrine of justification by faith;' nay to express statements on the subject in our formularies.' Mr. Newman, however, says his 'arguments are drawn not from 'primitive Christianity, but from Scripture;' they must therefore |