of sentiment as you have ascribed to him, could not be instantaneous. It was not effected by the interposition of any wily casuist, or any proselyte-hunting zealot, who might take advantage of those circumstances, which somietimes are found in the death-chamber of the most virtuous and the most devout; and by such instances, Sir, I mean fluttering spirits, an impaired understanding, a disturbed imagination, momentary fears succeeded by momentary hopes, one dim and incoherent conception rapidly succeeded by another, and sentences formed imperfectly, or uttered indistinctly. No, Sir, the bishop of St. Asaph, according to your own account, was visited by a Protestant Metropolitan. Previously, therefore, to his dissolution, while afflicted by sickness and oppressed by age, he must have suffered many a pang from conscious insincerity; and upon the near approach of that dissolution, he was doomed to breathe bis last in a disgraceful and dreadful conflict between timidity and piety-between calls upon his prudence, from the praise of men, and upon his conscience, from the approbation of God-between the impulses of paternal and conjugal affection, on one hand, and of self-preservation on the other-between the opposite and irreconcileable interests of time, to his family, and of eternity, to his own soul. "To the primate, who proffered his ministry, and to the bishop, who, according to your representation, could not avail himself of it, no appeal can be made, for they are numbered among the dead. But the facts, said to be known by your unnamed informer, could not be wholly unknown to those who were under the same roof with the expiring prelate. Such, 1 mean, Sir, as personal friends, as near relatives, as chaplains, as domestics, and, perhaps, medical attendants. These men, surely, can bear a direct and decisive testimony to a plain fact. They must have been deeply impressed by such a conversion as you describe. They must have the evidence of their senses, whether or no such conversion ever occurred; and upon the supposition that it did not occur, if such a host of witnesses be set in array, in opposition to your anonymous informer, depend upon it, that the attention of all good men will be strongly attracted by this extraordinary case, that their best sympathies will be roused, and that their decision between the veracity of the accuser and the merits of the accused, will be ultimately and completely just. Thus far I have expostulated with you, Sir, upon your charges against a prelate, who, having sunk into the grave, cannot defend himself, and who has been summoned by his Maker to that tribunal, where his guilt or his innocence cannot be unknown. "When such a tale, Sir, as yours, is told to the Protestant and Catholic Church-when it is pointed against such a man as bishop Hallifax--when it has been three times produced by such a writer as Dr. Milner-when it is inserted in a work, upon which you seem to have employed the whole strength of your vigorous and well-cultivated mind-when, if suffered to pass without refutation, it may expose the memory of a learned English prelate to infamy among Romanists for cowardice, among Protestants for apostasy, and among both, for duplicity-when that infamy, by the wide circulation of a book recommended by your name, may extend to foreign countries, and continue through distant generationswhen your statement may lead to consequences so afflictive to a widow and other surviving relatives, and so alarming to every enlightened and conscientious member of the Church of England; awful, indeed, Sir, must be your responsibility unto God and unto man, for the truth of your deliberate and reiterated assertions. "Pleased, I was, reverend Sir, with your caution, humility, and candour, when you say, Far be it from me, and every other Catholic, to deal damnation on any person in particular!" And surely, Sir, with these praise-worthy qualities, as exercised towards your fellowcreatures in the momentous concerns of a world to come, you will not disdain to blend a wary and delicate regard for the character and honourable interests of individuals in the present world, where you participate with them in the fallibility and infirmities of our common nature. "Equally pleased, Sir, I was, with a note to your address to the very learned and truly exemplary bishop of St. David's, where you say of yourself, The writer is far from claiming inerrancy; but he should despise bhimself, if he knowingly published any falsehood, or hesitated to retract any one that he was proved to have fallen into.' "Pardon me, Sir, for telling you, unreservedly, that, upon the present occasion, your character here, and in some measure your salvation hereafter, are interested in your speedy, honest, and earnest endeavours to redeem the pledge, which, in the foregoing words, you have given to every Christian reader of every denomination. It is your bounden duty, Sir, to examine strictly, and to communicate fully, the grounds of that probability which led you to believe, and, believing, to publish, that bishop Hallifax died a Catholic. "It is your bounden duty, to unfold all the circumstances of name and credibility in that informer, whose authority you declare to be so good as to warrant you in telling a Protestant public, that a Protestant bishop, and a distinguished advocate of Protestantism, "when he found himself upon his death-bed, refused the proffered ministry of the primate, expressed a great wish to die a Catholic; and that, being urged to satisfy his conscience, he exclaimed,--what, then, will become of my lady and my children?'* "It is your bounden duty, without the smallest reservation, and in the most unequivocal terms, to explain the nature and extent of those reasons, which you thought sufficient to justify you in affirming, that a late Warburtonian Lecturer, (bishop Hallifax,) upon his death-bed lamented that he could not, like Luther, threaten to unsay all that he had said against the pope ; like Melancthon, lament that *The reviewer cannot help noticing in this place, the obvious proof of the falsehood of the whole story, exhibited in the words put into the mouth of the dying bishop; who never did, and never could have thus spoken of his wife. He would have said, "Mrs. Hallifax," as he always was accustomed to do; but to call her My lady," was ridiculous!!" " Protestants had renounced him; or like a Beza, was unable to negotiate, not indeed, for returning to the pope, but for announcing to bim the conversion of an English bishop to the Church of Rome." Such is the remonstrance of Dr. Parr, and it remains to be seen, whether the redoubtable polemic, who called for it by his temerity, will take any notice of it, either by substantiating what he has advanced, or retracting what he cannot prove. How little is to be expected from him, will appear from this, that, on being called upon by the son of the bishop, no longer ago than last March, for the name of his informant, he has not thought proper to return any answer! In the work which contains such foul calumny against bishop Hallifax, the most virulent abuse is thrown out upon the present venerable dean of Winchester, who is called the second Luther; and a base insinuation is even hazarded respecting the sincerity of that learned man in his profession of Protestant principles. Dr. Parr, in his letter, has taken some notice of this tirade, with the indignant contempt which the occasion called for; and in language extremely pointed, he says: "Dr. Milner, I have not presumed to hold you up to the scorn and abhorrence of Protestants, nor to let loose upon you the hideous ap. pellations of bigoted controvertist, falsifier, calumniator, incendiary, persecutor, a modern Bonner, and an English Malagrida. I have treated you, Sir, with the courtesy which is due to a Roman Catholic dignitary, who professes to teach the religion of a meek, lowly, and benevolent Redeemer; to have received, in a special manner, his legitimate ordination and divine mission in a direct succession from the apostolic age; and to place the cause of that only true church, which exclusively lays claim to unity, to sanctity, to catholicity, to apostolicity, and to the visible protection of the Omnipotent in a series of miraculous interpositions, vouchsafed for the illustration of that church, through the long space of eighteen centuries. But if the English ecclesiastic, whose private conversation you have confessedly divulged, should, in reality, not be the contemptible and execrable miscreant, which a modern Luther, according to your delineation of his prototype, must be, then, Sir, I leave it with yourself to find a proper name for that writer, who, in the nineteenth century, and in a civilized country, should present to his readers, Catholic or Protestant, such a portraiture as you have exhibited of such an ecclesiastic as Dr. Rennall." Further on, Dr. Parr has drawn a beautifully affecting picture of the late much lamented son of the dean of Winchester, for which we must refer our readers to the letter, as we have already been unavoidably copious in our extracts, on account of the importance of the subject. Here, then, for the present, we shall take leave of the matter at issue, waiting with some anxiety for an explanation on the part of the popish prelate; which if he does not speedily give, the world will say, whether his own compunction does or does not, that "Dissidium aliquod linguæ, et cordis est." REVIEW.-Professional Christianity, or Considerations urging the Importance of Religious Influence on the Medical Character. By a Medical Practitioner. pp. 68. London. Hatchard and Son. 1824. It THE nature of this little treatise may be inferred from its title, and it is no contemptible recommendation to say, may seem a severe reflection on the that it fully answers its character. medical profession to state, that, in too many instances, its brightest ornaments have little or no regard to an just. Of this fact, the author of the hereafter. This charge is, however, treatise before us, seems deeply sensible, and his design is to remedy the evil, by impressing upon their minds the inefficacy of all human skill, without the divine aid. He traces this disregard of an hereafter to their familiarity with subjects of dissection; tality, operating upon the moral corto their intimacy with scenes of morruptions of the human heart; to the manners which are cherished in the dissecting-room; and to the influence of bad example, which, carried into practice, generate habits, that neither time nor observation can correct. Happily, to the preceding delineation of character there are numerous exceptions. These the author contrasts with the former, and draws an inference decidedly in favour of the religious practitioner. He does not attempt to metamorphose the physician into a preacher; but thinks, that in those solemn moments, when called to visit the sick and the dying, intimations of his belief in a future state, and the necessity of preparing for the awful event which seems impending, might consistently be blended with a strict attention to professional duties. He laments that many, who, having no fear of God before their eyes, use their utmost endeavours to prevent | orthodox in her creed. She admits, the intercourse of the patient with that in the chapels of ease, the lowly pious persons, treat death with con- Christian may bow the knee in sincetempt, and all that is supposed to fol- rity, but that antiquated buildings are low, as a bugbear, which it is their to be preferred. She congratulates duty to discard. Medical men, above her pupil on having been brought up all others, he conceives, ought to have "in humble dependence on (baptism) eternity constantly in view, so that this blessed symbol of our faith;" but while they use their endeavours to of repentance towards God, and faith recover their patients, they might in our Lord Jesus Christ, we find not administer consolation to the mind, one word. Theatrical amusements, and direct expectation to the Physician she moderately recommends, and laof souls. ments that the pious should turn their backs on them, since their presence might check the excesses into which the profligate sometimes run. Cards also are commendable, as they tranquillize the mind for devotion; and since they are not introduced in the family where Miss Harriet is on a visit, this worthy tutoress hopes her stay will be short. She does not, however, recommend persecution, but rather pity, since, (poor weak things,) they know no better! The reasons assigned for this conduct are strong and convincing, and the observations are as judicious as the arguments are energetic. It contains no enthusiastic reveries, nor does it inculcate a sectarian spirit. The author seems impressed with the importance of the subject, and we would recommend his treatise with as much sincerity as he inculcates its contents. THIS is an accommodating work, in which we have an opportunity of viewing Christianity as a lady in fashionable attire, with a splendid headdress, an embroidered petticoat, and coloured shoes. In this trickery, she mixes with the world, is taught to enter into an alliance with it, but without a deed of partnership, and being favoured with a private box in the theatre, she will, perhaps, in time, become an actress, and, having a station in the ball-room, we can scarcely doubt that she will shortly learn to dance. Of Alicia Catherine Mant, we know nothing, except through the medium of this publication, but we give her credit for having taken more care of her personal character, than she has shewn for the reputation of Christianity. At best, it is a combination of temporizing qualities, and equivocal materials, forming in the aggregate 66 On the subject of sectarianism she assumes a more imperious tone, and thinks her amiable pupil cannot enter a conventicle, though only to gratify curiosity, without being guilty of the sin of schism. She seems to regret, that vice cannot be retained without its grossness, and advises Miss Harriet to imitate the moth that flutters round the candle, only to be careful that she does not burn her wings. REVIEW.-Self-Advancement, or Extraordinary Transitions from Obscurity to Greatness, exemplified in the Lives and History of Thirteen Eminent Men. By the Author of "Practical Wisdom, &c." 8vo. pp. 346. London. Whittaker. It has been said of the proud Duke of Somerset, that he "pitied Adam, because he had no ancestors," but the ancestors of this lump of vanity had more reason should be reckoned among their pos- a thing of shreds and patches.” Her divinity seems calculated for the meridian of fashionable boarding-schools In this work, the names of the and dancing-masters, and, perhaps, Emperor Basil, Rienzi the Tribune, in time, she may be employed Alexander V., Cardinal Ximenes, "To fetch and carry nonsense for my lord." Hadrian VI. Cardinal Wolsey, Adrian This lady is, however, perfectly | IV. Thomas Lord Cromwell, Sixtus V. Masanielo, Cardinal Alberoni, Dr. Franklin, and Bernadotte, king of Sweden, are placed before us. Of these celebrated and fortunate individuals, we have a biographical sketch, but the local events of their lives are kept in the back ground, that the reader may perceive with more precision, the various ways by which they rose to exalted eminence, in their respective spheres of action. Hence, of their talents, their virtues, and their vices, we have nothing more than an indistinct survey. It is not to be expected, that, while we review the book, we are also to review the histories of the men who figure in its pages. This, if not imprudent, would be impracticable, and the occasion is less imperious, as their character and fortunes have long been under the public eye. There can be no doubt, that the catalogue might have been considerably enlarged; but the compiler has been careful to admit none, but such as, under existing circumstances, might be deemed worthy of imitation, by examples unstained with the grosser vices, and unpolluted with torrents of human blood. It must be obvious, that the commotions of the times in which they lived, facilitated their march to greatness, but they knew how to avail themselves of the tide when it flowed in their favour, and how to steer their proper course on the rapid current by which they were borne along, avoiding alike those rocks and quicksands, on which many, under prosperous gales, have been wrecked and lost. The same principles, however, which guided them to immortality and honour, operate with equal steadiness in the less conspicuous departments of life; and those, who, with integrity, follow their dictates, may reasonably expect proportionable results. Example is always as much more powerful than precept, as practice is more instructive than theory. If there be "a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune," these men seized it in the most auspicious moment; and those who wish to derive an advantage from their history, should be careful to fill their stations with integrity and honour, for nothing short of this can inspire confidence when passing events offer rewards and encouragements to virtuous enterprize. 80.-VOL. VII. REVIEW.-Tales of the Crusaders; by the Author of "Waverley, Quintin Durward, &c." In four volumes. Edinburgh. Archibald Constable. London. Hunt and Co. 1825. re WE recollect having once been shewn a fine painting of Walter Scott, Esq. while on a visit with some friends, to view the magnificent edifice called Marble-hall, in Cheshire. He is drawn sitting on some mossy dilapidations, (if we remember right,) with a halfclosed book in his right hand, resting on his knee, while his left is fondling an antiquated dog. He is looking, in an attitude of meditation, upon a rich and variegated landscape, mellow with the last soft rays of sun-set. Now, being somewhat romantic, this grouping of what was chaste and beautiful in animate and inanimate nature, instantly caught the eye of our mind, and imbued our fancy; consequently, whenever we heard mentioned the name of Sir Walter Scott, read his animating and heart-stirring poetry,-or were absorbed in the enthralling scenes of his magnificent romances,-we curred to this picture, and fancied him sketching them off, in such a situation as is there represented. "Then," said we, "there is, after all, at or near Auld Reekie,' a scene hallowed with the recollections of poetry and romance, to which we are thus enabled to afford a local habitation and a name.'" Then our imaginations pictured forth the shadow of the mighty northern magician, flitting, in misty and indistinct magnificence, amidst scenes of stern, melancholy grandeur-unshrowded amidst the glistening ruins of castles and cathedrals, or wandering among his native mountains-for the purpose of noting down their impressions on his mind, and conveying them to his southern readers. Albeit, since then, years have passed on, silently shedding their silvery hoar upon us, blotting out most of their happy reminiscences, and substituting, with gray hairs, matter-of-fact sobriety. Since the time to which we have just made allusion, not a year has elapsed without its being accompanied by at least three volumes, from the prolific pen of the "Author of Waverley." But frequent drafts may impoverish the richest bank; and in like manner, the stores of the most fertile 3 с genius may be overdrawn. We are, of one Wilkin Flammock, a heavy, therefore, necessitated to state the stalworth, Flemish clothier,) with a melancholy fact, (if indeed our readers chosen body of knights, encounters the are not already aware of the circum- Welsh, and is slain. Gwenwyn then stance,) that within the last few years despatches a messenger to demand the annual productions of this cele- the surrendering of the castle; but the brated dwλov, have sensibly deteri- wily Fleming circumvents him, and orated. He has just issued four more endures a fierce attack, until the comvolumes; in fact, it was whispered ing of the famous De Lacy and his among the literary circles, that his in- knights, who instantly rout the Welsh, tention was to extend the present and slay Gwenwyn. Here hinges work to five. Of these it is our inten- the story. Hugo de Lacy being a sworn tion to present our readers with a soldier of the cross, cannot, on accareful and copious abstract; after- count of his vow, enter under any wards subjoining such remarks as roof till he has fulfilled it; he theremay appear pertinent. In a very fore despatches his nephew, Damian whimsical, and occasionally humor- de Lacy, to solicit an interview with ous introduction, the author informs her, without the castle. She accords us of his intention, to discard the permission-leaves Garde Doloureuse creatures of fiction ("to unbeget them") and enters into a magnificent paviand betake himself to history; an- lion prepared for her. De Lacy nouncing, with a long and somewhat presses his suit-reminds her that it pompous flourish, as his next produc- was sanctioned by her father; and, tion, "The History of Napoleon Bona- through her sense of duty and affection parte, by the Author of Waverley." We for his memory, she admits the claim, will just say here, that we doubt not although she has little personal regard its being a powerful and eloquently for the Constable, who is elderly, and written work; it will be a romance of of somewhat uncouth appearance. By real life. his advice, she travels to a neighbouring convent, there to reside; and he himself, with Damian, and numbers of knights, escort her thither. But, at night, she rests at the ancient mansion of Ermangarde, her Saxon grandmother; where, in the "red-fingered The performance under review, consists of two tales-"The Betrothed" and "The Talisman." The scene of the first lies in Wales; of the second, in Syria: now, to each in its order. The "Betrothed" commences with the preaching of the Crusade by the arch-chamber," her doom is mysteriously prelate Baldwin, in the year 1148. We are introduced to Gwenwyn, a Welsh chieftain, prince of Powis-land. He was a fierce, rude, blood-thirsty tyrant; and, at the time of the story's commencement, had divorced his wife, because she brought him no children; claiming, as her substitute, Lady Eveline, daughter of Raymond Berenger, a valiant Norman noble, residing in solitary state, in a gloomy castle, aptly called "Garde Doloureuse." He sends a letter to Berenger, asking of him his daughter; but is refused in lofty terms;-inflamed by Cadwallon, his harper, he resolves to descend upon the territories of Berenger, and avenge the insult. The scene then shifts to Garde Doloureuse. We are informed, that lady Eveline is betrothed to the famous Hugo de Lacy, constable of Chester; and that Raymond put his castle in a state of defence. Presently, the Welsh thunder down upon them; he quits the castle, (leaving it and his daughter in charge announced. She quits the house in anger, and soon, escorted by her chivalrous guides, reaches the convent. While the public ceremony of espousal, between the lady Eveline and Hugo de Lacy, is proceeding, they are shocked by the entrance of Damian, wild and frantic. The Constable, attributing it to delirium, (for he had left him ill in bed,) orders him to be carried home; he is hardly gone, when the "paritor" of the church appears, and cites the Constable to appear before the arch-prelate Baldwin; he attends him, and is received with sullen, scornful haughtiness. A long and violent dispute arises, on the subject of De Lacy's breaking his vow, espousing in marriage a lady, "when he was engaged in the holy Crusade;" but at length the skill and subtlety of the churchman gain the ascendancy over the scowling and reluctant warrior, who promises to forego his marriage with Eveline, and go to Jerusalem for three years. While he is by |