rels which more fortunate successors in ments operated alike on the consciences the same career have won. THE ARABIAN IMPOSTOR. Ir has been remarked by Paley, that "the only event in the history of the human species which admits of comparison with the propagation of Christianity, is the success of Mohammedism." Mohammed, the originator of this grand imposture, was born at Mecca, on THE ELEVENTH DAY OF SEPTEMBER, 569. His lineage was high; but in consequence of being left an orphan in his infancy, his patrimony was but scanty. He became the confidential servant of a wealthy widow in Mecca, and at the age of twenty-five having obtained her hand and fortune, he took his place among the most influential men of his native city. From an early age he is reported to have given himself to religious contemplation. Each year, during the month Ramadan, he retired to the cave of Hera, near Mecca, and there consulted the spirit of fraud and enthusiasm. At the age of forty he assumed the character of a prophet, announcing the faith of his followers to consist in the two following articles-the one an eternal truth, the other a necessary fiction-There is only one God, and Mohammed is the Apostle of God. His wife became his first convert, his slave the second, and a youthful and impetuous cousin the third. In three years he succeeded in obtaining six additional converts. Many derided his pretensions. His ambition served to produce factions, and so to disturb and divide several Arab tribes, as to compel him to seek safety in flight. His flight to Medina, in the year 622, marks the commencement of Mohammedan chronology. In Mecca his system of proselytism had been regarded as a perilous and doubtful adventure; in Medina he was received as a prophet and obeyed as a sovereign. The system which Mohammed originated was adapted to accomplish his designs. His code of morals was a singular and artful compromise between vice and virtue. His doctrine of future rewards and punish and passions of those to whom he made his appeals; and, when we take into consideration that he silenced all opposition by force, and seconded his pretensions by the sword, we have an explanation of the rapid and extensive conquests, as well as the permanency of this extraordinary religious imposture. HOLYROOD DAY. THE Saxon word rod or rode, signifies a cross or crucifix, or figure of Christ on the cross placed in a church. The holy rood was usually as large as life; it was elevated at the junction of the nave with the choir, and faced the western entrance to the church. These roods were frequently beautifully sculptured. Holyrood chapel, in Edinburgh, which was founded in 1128, was dedicated to the "Holy Cross," and thus obtained the name which it now bears. It was originally called "Monasterium Sanctæ Crucis de Crag," that is, " Monastery of the Holy Rood, or Cross of the Craig," from its proximity to the rocky precipice known as Salisbury Crags. THE FOURTEENTH DAY OF SEPTEMBER is, in the Romish Church, and on the calendar of the English Church, called Holyrood day. It has been fixed on as the cominemoration of the miraculous appearance of the cross in the sky to Constantine on the eve of battle; the reputed discovery of the cross by Helena; the recovery of the cross which Helena had discovered, from Chosroe, king of Persia, and its exaltation once more on Calvary by Heraclius. This relic is said to have afterwards been brought to Constantinople. In the Romish breviary the following passage occurs in the service of this day" About to be filled with the body and blood of the Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the standard of the cross was sanctified, we beseech thee, O Lord our God, that as we have deserved to adore it," &c. In the English Missal of Hussenbeth, published by Dolman of London in 1850, the Latin illud is translated him, instead of it, obviously to disguise from English men the Roman worship of the wood of England Michaelmas day is one of the the cross. THE AUTHOR OF "THE COURSE OF TIME." ROBERT POLLOCK was born at Muirhouse, in the parish of Eaglesham, Renfrewshire, in 1799. Having completed a course of literary and philosophical study at the university of Glasgow, he entered on the study of theology under the late Dr. Dick, professor of theology in the United Associate Synod. Mr. Pollock was licensed to preach the gospel in the spring of 1827. The poem which describes the mortal and immortal destiny of man had been completed before the gifted author became a preacher of the gospel. The late John Wilson, professor of moral philosophy in the University of Edinburgh, was the first to bring it under the notice of Mr. Blackwood, the publisher. We consider it as no small privilege to have had an opportunity of reading the proof sheets as they passed from the press. But Mr. Pollock's own "course" was then nearly finished. Consumption had undermined his constitution. The hope of preserving his days in an Italian climate had been determined on, but Mr. Pollock was unable to proceed beyond our English shores. He took up his residence at Shirley-common, near Southampton, and on THE FIFTEENTH DAY OF SEPTEMBER, 1827, he died, "in the faith of the gospel, and in the hope of eternal life." He was buried in the church-yard of Millbrook, the parish in which Shirley-common is situated. On an obelisk of Peterhead granite over his grave, in addition to the dates of his birth and death, is the following simple inscription: THE GRAVE terms for settling rents. Michaelmas head court in Scotland is the annual meeting of freeholders and commissioners of supply for a county, for county purposes. Some curious customs are still observed on this day. In Kidderminster the inhabitants assemble at the ringing of the townhouse bell, and for one hour, termed "lawless hour," the throwing cabbage stalks at each other, poorer classes amuse themselves by and the better classes by throwing apples. In some parts of Scotland the people bake a cake on this day, which they call "St. Michael's bannock." In Ireland a sheep is sometimes killed and distributed among the poor. The old English custom of having a roast goose for dinner on Michaelmas day, probably originated in the circumstance that the goose was generally, at that date, in very good condition, after having had the privilege of grazing on the reaped harvest-fields. This custom prevailed as far back as the days of Edward IV., as among other services during that reign, John de la Huy was bound to render to William Barnaby, Lord of Lastres, in the county of Hereford, for a parcel of the desmene lands, "twentypence a year, and one goose fit for the lord's dinner, on the feast of St. Michael the archangel." In the Posies of Gascoigne, published in 1575, are the following lines: And when the tenanntes come to paie their They bring some fowle at Midsummer, a dish quarter's rent, of fish in Lent, At Christmas a capon, at Michaelmasse_a goose, And somewhat else at New-year's tide, for feare their lease flie loose. It was enacted in the ecclesiastical laws of king Ethelred, in 1014, "That every Christian who is of age, fast three days on bread and water, and raw herbs, before the feast of St. Michael; and let every man go to confession and to church barefoot; let every priest with his people go in procession three days, barefoot; and let every one's commons for three days be prepared without anything of flesh, as if they themselves were to eat it, both in meat and drink; and let all this be distributed to the poor. Let every servant be excused from labour these three days, that he may the better perform his fast, or let him work what he will for himself. These are the three days, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday next before the feast of St. Michael. If any servant (slave) break his fast, let him make satisfaction with his hide (bodily stripes); let the poor freemen pay thirty pence, the king's thane 130 shillings, and let the money be divided to the poor." St. Michael has always enjoyed the reputation of pre-eminence over all the other angels. The churches dedicated to him have been usually erected upo elevated ground. The Family Monitor. DEPARTED CHILDREN STILL MEMBERS OF THE FAMILY. THE souls of our departed children, though invisible to the eye of sense, though removed far from us, and cut off from all possibility of further intercourse with us in this life, are in a conscious state of existence, and, it may be, occupied with nobler pursuits in a higher sphere. They have been removed from the church militant to swell the ranks of the church triumphant. They have been taken away from the small suffering remnant here, to join the great everincreasing multitude, which no man can number, who are before the throne of God and of the Lamb. But though now enrolled actual members of the general assembly and church of the first-born which are written in heaven, they have not ceased to be members of our families on earth. You would not say that a son absent in a foreign land had ceased by this circumstance to be a member of your family; and why should sons and daughters, because absent in heaven, cease to be regarded as members of our families? You would not say that a child, because it is fallen asleep, is no longer a member of your family; and why should you regard in any other light the child that is fallen asleep in Jesus? It is but a deeper sleep into which his moral nature has fallen, and a longer night through which it must continue; but there is a glorious morning coming, on which you and he shall both awake, satisfied with the Redeemer's likeness. It has often occurred to me, that it is a violation of true feeling, and an indication, if not of weak faith, at least of less profound and accurate views, to call two children of the same family by the same name, merely because one of them is absent in heaven. "I would not put little Willie out of his place," was the beautiful remark once made to me by a true-hearted mother, who had lost a lovely little boy, when, after the birth of another son, some of her relatives wished him to be called by the same name. It is the same feeling that is exquisitely expressed by Bengel, when, in allusion to the name of a child that had some resemblance to that of a departed one, he says, "We would not choose quite the same name; because we thought it ought to have some distinction from hers, whom we still regard as one of the family, though she is fallen asleep." It is a blessed thought that our departed children are not dead, but sleeping-not lost, but only absent. How fraught with consolation is this thought to the bereaved heart! How is it calculated to elevate the soul, and detach it from the things of time; to make "life less sweet, death less bitter, and heaven more desirable to us!" But in order to enable us fully to appreciate the consoling and ennobling effects of the truths of Christianity, let us look at it in contrast with heathenism, and consider the deplorable condition in which the latter leaves the bereaved parent. In the introduction to the sixth book of his great work on Oratory, the celebrated Quintilian relates the death of his wife and children, and especially the recent death of a very promising son. He complains of the bitterness of fortune, and says, "This was the second wound that was struck deep to afflict him, now a childless father. What, then, shall I do?" he exclaims, "or on what shall I any more employ the unhappy talents which the gods seem to reprove?" It was his misfortune, he tells us, to be borne down by a similar stroke, when he set about the publication of a previous work. "Why, then," he proceeds, "did I not cast into the fire that accursed work? Why did I not commit it, with that little unhappy learning I might have, to the flames of that funeral pile kindled so untimely to consume my bowels? What good parent would pardon me, if I again engaged in study? Who would not detest my insensibility, if I made any other use of my voice than to vent complaints against the injustice of the gods, who have made me survive all that was dearest to me in the world; if I did not proclaim aloud that there is no providence in the regulation of human affairs?" Afterwards he says, "There reigns a secret envy, jealous of our happiness, which pleases itself in nipping the bud of our hopes. If my life be my crime, it shall also be my punishment. I can brave fortune. It has brought my vexations to their height, and in this I find a doleful but just security." It is impossible for the true believer to read this piece of impious and daring blasphemy without condemning the man who, in any circumstances, could presume to write it. In extenuation of his guilt, however, let us bear in mind that he was born and educated amidst the gross darkness of heathenism; and in him we behold a specimen of what it can do for its most favoured votaries in the season of their distress. What cause of thankfulness have we that our lot has been cast in happier times, that the lines have fallen to us in more pleasant places, and that the Sun of Righteousness has arisen to us with healing under his wings. Let us walk in the light of that Sun, which shows us not only the way of salvation, but the way of peace; which not only shows us the worthlessness of the things of time, but illumines the path that leads to the everlasting city, and shows us the glory and excellency of it; which not only enlightens the understanding, but heals the wounded heart, and refreshes the sorrowful spirit. O let us love the Lord, who has done such great things for us, whereof we may well be glad, and testify the ardour of our affection by the holiness and devotedness of our lives. Let us rejoice that our dear departed children have joined the great family of the redeemed in heaven; and that this family, though meanwhile separated from us, is one with the family of the saints on earth, and that but a little while, and we too shall be promoted to join the family above.-Extracted from an excellent little book, Asleep in Jesus; or, Words of Consolation to Bereaved Parents. THE TONGUE AND THE PEN. COMPARE the orator with a book, says an American author, and we gain a faint glimpse of the ubiquitous power of the latter. The orator speaks but to a few hundreds or thousands, the book addresses millions. The words of the orator may die on the air, the language of the book is stamped on tables as imperishable as marble. The arguments of the orator may follow each other so rapidly that a majority of the audience may struggle in a net of ratiocination, the reasoning of the book may be scanned at leisure without fear of perplexity. The passion of the orator inflames an assembly, the feeling of a book electrifies a continent. The orator is for an edifice, the book for the world; the one shines for an hour, the other glows for all time. The orator may be compared to lightning, which flashes over a valley for a moment, but leaves it again in darkness; the book to a sun blazing steadily over the whole earth, and "fixing on the basis of its own eternity." Printing has been happily defined "the art which preserves all arts" Printing makes the orator himself more than an orator. It catches up his dying words, and breathes into them the breath of life. It is the speaking gallery through which the orator thunders in the ears of ages. He leans from the tomb over the cradle of the rising generation. HAZLITT'S HABITS OF STUDY. THE three or four hours a day employed by Hazlitt in composition enabled him to produce an essay for a magazine, one of his most profound and masterly Table-Talks, in two or three sittings; or a long and brilliant article of thirty or forty pages for the Edinburgh Review, in about a week. But when he had an entire volume or work in hand, he invariably went into the country to execute it, and almost always to the same spot -a little way-side public-house, called "The Hut,' standing alone, and some miles distant from any other house, on Winterslow Heath, a barren tract of country on the road to, and a few miles from, Salisbury. There, ensconced in a little wainscoted parlour, looking out over the bare heath to the distant groves of Norman Court, some of his finest essays were written; there, in utter solitude and silence, many of his least unhappy days were spent; there, wandering for hours over the bare heath, or through the dark woods of the above-named domain, his shattered frame always gained temporary strength and renovation. . . . When Hazlitt was regularly engaged on any work or article, he wrote at the rate of from ten to fifteen octavo pages at a sitting; and never, or very rarely, renewed the sitting on the same day, except when he was at Winterslow; where, having no means of occupation or amusement in the evening part of the day, he used, I believe habitually, to write after his tea. And doubtless, one of his motives for going there when he had any considerable work to get through, was the knowledge that by that means alone he could persuade himself to work double tides.' TELEGRAPHIC COMMUNICATION WITH AMERICA. THE project of connecting, telegraphi Canada, to Quebec. |