ON THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND VIEW OF THE CHURCH OF ROME.

MR. EDITOR, A correspondent in your Magazine for May inquires how, on the supposition that the church of Rome is deemed by our church a church of Christ,-as her practice of allowing Romish priests, on recanting their errors, to be ministers of her communion without re-ordination seems to imply,-how, on this supposition, this practice is reconcileable with the 19th Article. That article expressly says, "the visible church of Christ is," &c. That the 19th Article, at first sight, appears inconsistent with this practice may perhaps be admitted; but a little reflection will suffice to remove the inconsistency. In this article, our church is giving a definition, according to her views, of what constitutes a true church, a church whose doctrines should be founded on the scriptures, and whose practices should be in unison with that of the church in its earliest and purest ages. The definition, therefore, must minutely accord with her own theoretical notions of what a true church ought to be. She was not intending, nor was she called upon, to define in this article what degree of error and corruption would serve to exclude any particular church from being a true church. Whereas, in her other articles, she was compelled to decide, that many of the doctrines and practices of the Romish church were unscriptural and corrupt, because this was necessary in self-defence, in order to shew that a reformation of these abuses and corruptions was imperatively demanded. And this view of the subject, I conceive, is amply confirmed by the following extract from Archbishop Laud's conference with Fisher the Jesuit. p. 128, sect. 20. Edition, 1639 :—

"For the church may import in our language, the only true church, and perhaps (as some of you seem to make it) the root and the ground of the catholic. And this I never did grant of the Roman church, nor ever mean to do. But a church can imply no more than it is a member of the whole. And this I never did, nor ever will, deny, if it fall not absolutely away from Christ. That it is a true church, I granted also; but not a right, (as you impose upon me)... A man that

is most dishonest and unworthy the name, a very thief (if you will) is a true man in the verity of his essence, as he is a creature endued with reason; for this none can steal from him, nor he from himself, but death; but he is not therefore a right or an upright man. And a church that is exceeding corrupt, both in manners and doctrine, and so a dishonour to the name, is yet a true church in the verity of essence, as a church is a company of men which profess the faith of Christ, and are baptized into his name; but yet it is not therefore a right church, either in doctrine or manners." "And yet no news it is, that I granted the Roman church to be a true church. For so much very learned protestants have acknowledged before me, and the truth cannot deny it. For that church which receives the scripture as a rule of faith, though but as a partial and imperfect rule; and both the sacraments as instrumental causes, and seals of graces, though they add more, and misuse these; yet cannot but be a true church in essence."

Hooker, it is scarcely necessary to add, in his third book of Ecclesiastical Polity, advocates the same view of the Romish church as the archbishop.

Should this communication be deemed worthy of a place in your periodical, it is at your service. Yours, &c.

0.

AN OFFER OF ASSISTANCE.

DEAR SIR,-I have been a pretty constant reader of the "British Magazine" for some years, and though I know that you dislike compliments, you must allow me to say, that I consider it a most useful and valuable work. Indeed, in times like the present, it seems to me to be the duty of every man who holds right views on church matters, to do all that lies in his power, even if it should require some sacrifice, to support it. For my own part, I think it imperative to do what I can, not only in the way of reading and recommending, but also of writing for it; and I shall be very happy, from time to time, as I may have leisure, and find that I can do it without inconvenience, to send you contributions. Should I do so, I beg that you will use your own unbiassed discretion as to inserting them, and just making what use you please of them, as my only object is to assist you in promoting the great cause of truth; and I should be quite sorry if you were to postpone or break up things which are already in type, in order to put in anything of mine; because I suppose that would occasion loss to the publishers, and might also offend some of your other contributors. But I dare say you will find some way of getting in anything which I may send; and (between ourselves) I have often wondered that editors do not manage to please all parties, and somehow or other get in all that is sent them. Of course, you know, I do not pretend to understand the matter, for I never was the editor of a magazine; but if I were, I think I should try. And there is another thing that I would mention to you, because I have heard it spoken of, and I know that it gives offence, even more than what I have just referred to; for in the other case, if their letters are punctually acknowledged, with a civil expression or two, in the next "notices," many correspondents may be content to wait a month; but people do not like to have what they write curtailed or altered. As to myself, as I have already said, I entreat that you will use no ceremony, but do just as you please; though, as I shall always make a point of choosing important and interesting subjects, and endeavour to treat them in an agreeable manner, and with as much brevity as is consistent with the design of writing, I do not expect that you will find it necessary (and when it is not necessary, I am sure you will agree with me in thinking that it is not right) to alter a word. If there should happen to be anything, such as a misconception of fact, or a want of knowledge on some point (for one cannot know everything), or anything else, which should, in your opinion, be omitted, or altered, or deliberated upon, you will, perhaps (if it is not trespassing on your time), have the goodness to give me a line privately, stating the circumstances and your objections, and I dare say that in the course of a few posts we shall understand one another. Indeed, you will not, I am sure, take it amiss if I say, that this ought always to be done; for I may, I doubt not, appeal to yourself, whether you have not often found, even from the testimony of the authors themselves, that when you have adventured anything of the kind merely on your own judgment, it has turned out that you have happened to omit the

most important, or to alter the most elaborate and pointed, portions of a letter. I suppose there is some reason for another thing which I do not understand; but it seems to me very odd, and indeed rather unreasonable, that you should require to have things so early in the month. As I said before, I do not understand anything about it, but as far as I can judge, there is not near so much matter (though it may be more valuable) in a number of the Magazine as in a double Times; and if the printers can print such a paper in one day, surely they might print the Magazine in two. I say this, because I know that it is a very annoying thing, when a man has written a letter-and perhaps a very long one-on some most important subject, in which he is most deeply interested, and which he is anxious to see printed instantly, to be told that he must wait more than a month, because it did not come to the editor's hands (though perhaps he sent it off two days before) until the 27th or 28th,and that, too, perhaps when there are thirty-one days in the month. These things are very apt to hurt the feelings of correspondents. And this reminds me of another point; I do think you ought to take care of all the papers which you do not use. I suppose they are very numerous, and it would take up too much of your own time; but could you not have somebody whose business it should be to arrange and keep them, so as that he could always lay his hand upon any particular one, and just do it up and send it, or take it, where the writer might direct? What else, for instance, can the people at Rivingtons' have to do? And if you could just add a few lines from yourself with each, I think it would conciliate. It would, to be sure, be a little additional trouble, but I think it would be well bestowed.

There is one little favour which I must beg of you. Some of my friends tell me that I write very badly; and I confess I am sometimes a little careless. Besides, you know when one is writing off a thing, one cannot stop to think how it looks, and it would be very troublesome to copy it. Indeed, the more one corrects it, the more discouraging it is to think of writing it all over again. Now as to yourself I do not mind, because I dare say you have so much practice in reading writing that you can make out almost anything; but I do sometimes think of the poor printers, who, I believe, are paid no more for making out a certain quantity of the worst writing than the best. And I am not sure that it is quite right to make their wives and families pay for one's own laziness. Besides, they are apt to make very droll blunders when they cannot read the writing, so that the credit of the Magazine is, in some degree, involved, which makes me mention it to you; and therefore perhaps, in reading over, you would be so good as to render legible anything which you think that the printer could not make out; or, if you think it better, would you just get it copied, for it is a pity to have a letter spoiled by what look like ignorant blunders, as to proper names and such things, which are perhaps copied from books which people cannot get without a great deal of trouble. You will oblige me if you will just attend to this. I hope to write to you again soon, and in the meantime I am, Your obedient servant, MODESTUS.

553

NOTICES AND REVIEWS.

The Peep of Day; or, a Series of the Earliest Religious Instruction the Infant Mind is capable of Receiving. (Third Edition.) London: Hatchards. 12mo. 1836.

Line upon Line; or, a Second Series of the Earliest Religious Instruction the Infant Mind is capable of Receiving. By the Author of the " Peep of Day." London: Hatchards. 12mo. 1837.

THIS Magazine usually declines noticing second or third editions of books, simply because so many works issue from the press monthly, that it is very hard to notice even the first editions. Again, it seldom notices books not sent for review, partly for the same reasons. But there are cases where it is really a duty to do so. In the present instance, the books at the head of the notice were not sent for review (very wisely), and the first of them was in a third edition in the year. The reviewer has heard, with great pain, that since that time it has gained very general circulation. It is the work of a lady, and evidently written with the best intentions. It is the more painful to be obliged to say of it, as he must in conscience, that he has seldom seen a book so likely to be mischievous to children, or one which all parents who wish to preserve in their children's minds the proper tone of reverence for sacred things, should more studiously keep out of their way.

It is, in truth, a book of the school of Jacob Abbot in style; and it is deeply to be deplored that the mischief which will certainly be done by that style has not been more fully exposed.* The nature of that mischief may be very easily described, though much space would be wanted fully to develop its extent and several bearings. Inconsiderate people are perpetually complaining of the difficulty of getting children to realize, as they call it, what they read. And no doubt it is a difficulty for children of either a smaller or larger growth to "realize" any other scenes which may be described to them than those which consist principally of elements with which they are quite familiar. This difficulty does not belong to children only, but to all minds of confined views, and therefore to children only as long as their views are confined. As they grow older, and conversant, from month to month, with more and higher things, they can "realize" more and more of what they read. If I described a horse race (with all its crowds and excitement) to a horse-jockey, he would understand it at once, and "realize" it with a witness, and enter into it with all his heart.

But

There was an admirable paper on it in the "Tracts for the Times," but in somewhat too high a strain for "the million." A more popular exposure is wanted. All, however, who can appreciate such a paper (and are not afraid of catching popery, by the way), should study it.

VOL. XIV.-Nov. 1838.

4 c

if I gave him a detail of the crowds and the excitement which attend the meetings of that august body, the British Association, perchance instead of "realizing" it, he might go to sleep. If I attempted to impress his mind with the sublime ideas which the world of nature presents, or those awful exhibitions of the majesty of the Deity to be found in the Book of Revelation, he would have still more difficulty in the "realizing" process, because emotions connected with "the sublime" have never been familiar to him. So is it with young children; try them with the two last-mentioned points, and you try them, of course, in vain, for the self-same reason which has been just assigned, they have not yet been familiarized with the higher ideas of either moral or intellectual excellence or perfection, or with the emotions which their display is calculated to call forth, and cannot consequently enter into them. Now, all this applies most strictly to scripture narratives. No doubt, nothing can exceed their simplicity, in one sense, even where they speak of the Creator or the Redeemer. What, in one sense, can be more simple than the narrative of God's appearing to Moses in the bush, or of the wonderful and sublime scene of the transfiguration. But what will be the effect of attempting to realize these scenes too completely without the reverential feeling which, before all others, is necessary that they may be realized aright. You may realize scenes of this nature in two ways to those in whom, at a given time, these reverential feelings are not developed. That is to say, you may wait till they are, using all proper means to develop them; or if you will not wait, you may have them realized by stripping them of everything calculated to command reverence, and bringing them down to the level of common, mean, every-day life. The latter is the ready, easy way, and is the natural resort of a coarse and vulgar (though the reviewer willingly allows powerful) mind like Jacob Abbot's. This is the principle on which all his books are written; and it is precisely because in most of us the higher parts of our nature are quite undeveloped, that whatever is so is brought down to the level of mean daily life, and consequently, Abbot's scripture pictures are so generally acceptable. They who read such books "realize" all which is told them of their Lord, but they realize it as the history of a mere human being, better, no doubt, than themselves, but not entitled, on any other ground, to be a whit more reverenced. It is to facilitate this "realizing" that such books as Abbot's talk of the greater attention that would have been paid him if he had been a gentleman living on his own estate, and a hundred other things much worse; and that these books talk of his wanting his supper, and sending his disciples to look after a man with a jug. In one word, strip scripture characters of everything which a young child cannot understand, (that is to say, of everything which makes scripture precious,) and then the young child will understand it. Yes! he will, and so long as he lives, will read, and understand it in the same way; that is to say, as a common-place history of every-day life, not calculated to excite any higher emotions than a novel or a newspaper. Great obligations, indeed, will he have to the mother, or governess,