standing that is intended, but a practical belief, or habitual sense of the existence and constant presence of him who, as St. Paul expresses it, is above all, and through all, and in us all." This lies at the foundation of all vital religion, and hence the writer has placed the attainment of this habitual sense of the presence of God as of the first importance to youth; and it is by the use of means that the mind is strengthened in it. Frequent communion with God in prayer; meditation on spiritual passages expressly confirming the doctrine, and close reasoning from effects to the Almighty cause of them, gradually impress the mind with a deep feeling of this fundamental truth. And this latter is the more necessary to young persons on account of the ordinary forms and abuses of speech by which people too commonly exclude, as it were, the divine Creator and Upholder of all things from his own works, or at least from their own sense of his presence and operations. We appear to have discovered that nature does all things in us and around us. We talk of the course of nature, of the productions of nature, of the prolific nature of the earth, of plants and fruits growing by occult mysterious causes or properties, till we gradually lose all practical apprehension of that great Spirit who, as we are assured in scripture, "is in us, and around us, and minutely observes all our way." The writer, therefore, anxiously advises his young reader to accustom himself, in conformity with an important rule in logic, to reason upon things without the intervention of unmeaning terms," from effects to the great cause, the Creator and Sustainer of all things; and his mind, by God's blessing, will gradually open, and become impressed with an awful sense of the constant presence and agency of the living Jehovah, the self-existent, the omnipresent; that he, who created the world at first, and all things upon it, continues to create every living thing, and every blade of grass; and that their growing means, in fact, nothing less than that God is continually exerting his creative power upon them; that the "laws of nature," as they are called, are nothing else but the orderly operation of God. He is pleased to operate in a regular manner, that his rational creatures may depend upon his faithfulness; and not that they may become practical atheists, and exclude him from their apprehensions of his presence and benign operations.

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In this way, also, his young mind will become assured that God's providence is perfect over all his works, and that "not a sparrow falls to the ground without him ;" and, having attained a deep impression, an awful assurance of these fundamental points, he will fear to offend, by thought, word, or deed, him "in whom he lives and moves and has his being."

Miscellaneous.

THE MIRACULOUS DISPERSION OF THE JEWSt.

south, in the snowy mountain and in the sandy desert, in every city and almost in every village, you will behold the face of some exiled Israelite, fulfilling, in his destiny, the prophecy of the Lord. There is something peculiarly remarkable, and apparently providential, in this universal dispersion of the people of God. They are to be found in all nations; and in all nations they are found despised and rejected of men, without a home and without a country, without the rights or the protection of other citizens. Still, there are some places in which they are less hated and op. pressed than in others; and, under the mild and pa ternal government of our native land, they have nothing to fear, and less to suffer than in any other country in the world. Why, then, do they not gradually quit those lands of their oppressors, to seek for safety in this rock of comparative refuge and peace?

It is the common dictate of human nature to flee from distress, and seek comfort and security wherever they may be found, no matter in what country or in what clime. Why, then, does not the Jew avoid the fury of a German populace, the barbarity of the chieftains of Africa, and the grinding exactions of Turkish avarice, by raising the tabernacle of his rest under the influence of the freedom and protection of Britain's laws? Or why, if in all countries he is condemned to suffer, why does he not turn his steps towards the land of his fathers, after which he sighs, and endeavour to console his sorrows by living and dying in that Judæa and beside that Jordan which he loves? Such would be the natural conduct of common men. But the Jew acts not thus. Oppressed and persecuted, he still continues to live where he has lived; and grows and multiplies in adversity without the thought of change. Neither tribulation, nor anguish, nor hatred, nor distress, nor even the fear of death itself, can drive him away from the soil in which chance has planted the habitation of his misery. Now, it is for this singularity in his conduct that we have

to account. That the Jew alone should remain

uninfluenced by those motives which operate upon the mass of mankind; that the Jew alone should act contrary to our general experience of the rest of the world; to what can we ascribe it, but to the providential dispensation of God? why is it, but that he is immovably fixed and rooted, as it were, by the neverfailing word of prophecy, to the soil on which he dwells? Why is it that he flees not back to the land of his fathers, but because Jesus hath said that he shall be led captive into "all nations?" And why does he not strive for the possession of Jerusalem again, but because the same Jesus hath said that "Jerusalem shall be trodden under foot of the Gentiles, until the time of the Gentiles be fulfilled?" Yea, and for the same reason it is that he, that did once strive to restore it to these children of vengeance, did strive in vain.

London: Published for the Proprietors by EDWARDS and

It is observable how constantly David in his psalms refers all the works of nature (as it has become the custom of the present times to term them) to the immediate operations of God. See the 104th psalm in particular.

From the rev. C. Benson's "Hulsean Lectures."

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A MONTH AT THE ENGLISH LAKES.

No. II.

RYDAL MERE*.

4 O vale and lake, within your mountain urn,
Smiling so tranquilly, and set so deep!
Oft doth your dreamy loveliness return,
Colouring the tender shadows of my sleep
With light Elysian; for the hues that steep
Your shores in melting lustre, seem to float
On golden clouds from spirit-lands remote,
Isles of the blest; and in our memory keep
Their place with holiest harmonies. Fair scene,
Most loved by evening and her dewy star!
O, ne'er may man, with touch unhallow'd, jar
The perfect music of the charm serene!
Still, still unchanged, may one sweet region wear
Smiles that subdue the soul to love, and tears, and prayer!"

MRS. HEMANS.

THE tranquil smiling of the lake scenery is, indeed, peculiarly soothing. "During five days This view of Rydal Mere is from Messrs. Black's Tour. VOL. XVII,

*

which we spent among the lakes," says Mr. Gilpin, "we saw one of them only, and that but once, under the circumstance of a perfect calm; when there was neither wind to ruffle, nor cloud to obscure, the resplendency of the surface. The majestic repose of so grand, so solemn, and splendid a scene, raises in the mind a sort of enthusiastic calm, which spreads a wild complacence over the breast-a tranquil pause of mental operation-which may be felt but not described." "When we take a view of such a glorious scene in all its splendour," he continues, 66 we regret that it should ever be deformed by the rough blasts of tempests; and yet I know not whether, under this latter circumstance, it may not have a still greater power over the imagination. Every little idea is lost in the wild uproar and confusion of such a scene. Nor is it, in this disturbed state,

G

less an object of picturesque beauty. The sky floating with broken clouds, the mountains half obscured by driving vapours, and mingling with the sky in awful obscurity, the trees straining in the blast, and the lake stirred from the bottom, and whitening every rocky promontory with its foam, are all objects highly adapted to the percil" (Picturesque Beauty).

Ambleside, anciently written "Hamelside," probably from the Saxon" hamol," a sheltered situation, is a small and irregularly built market town, containing 1,000 inhabitants, partly in the parish of Windermere and partly in that of Grasmere. It is situated on steeply inclined ground, a mile from the head of Windermere, upon or near to the spot formerly occupied by the Roman station, Dictis. The earth-works of the fortress remain, and various Roman relics and foundations of buildings have been discovered. Lying immediately under Wansfell, and surrounded by mountains on all sides, except towards the south-west, the situation is most beautiful. The town received a charter from Charles II.

In the vale of Kentmere, a very few miles to the east, near the chapel, stands an old building with square tower, peculiarly interesting as the birth-place of Bernard Gilpin, A.D. 1517, the "apostle of the north," whose life and energies were directed to the spiritual good of his fellowcreatures, and their emancipation from the slavery of the see of Rome*. His ancestors had been settled here since the reign of king John. "It is a tower-like edifice, under a mountain browed with mighty crags. When it was building, the Cork lad of Kentmere,' a barbarian of the name of Herd, lifted the chimney beam of the kitchen into its place, six feet from the earth. It still remains, and is thirty feet long, and thirteen inches by twelve and a-half thick. At the age of fortytwo this man killed himself with the Herculean task of tearing up trees by the roots."

The valley of Ambleside, on the border of which the town stands, is well wooded, and watered by several streams: the principal river is the Rothay, which flows from Grasmere and Rydal lakes, and joins the Brathay, shortly before entering Windermeret. Upon Stock Gill, a tributary to the Rothay, there are four fine falls, or forces, seventy feet in height, in a copse, about 700 yards from the market cross; supposed to be as fine as any in the lake country.

Loughrigg Fell, a rocky hill opposite the town, is 1,000 feet above Windermere. It commands extensive views of the vale and surrounding mountains, as well as of Windermere, Grasmere, and Rydal lakes, and, with its tarnt, should not fail to be visited. Of this class of miniature lakes that of Loughrigg is the most beautiful example. It has a margin of green meadows, of rocks and rocky woods; a few reeds here, a little com

See Church of England Magazine, vol. ii. p. 5.

+ A circumstance very interesting to the naturalist should be mentioned here. The char and trout, at the approach of the spawning season, may be seen proceeding together out of the lake up the stream to the point where the Brathay and the Rothay meet; when they uniformly separate, as if by mutual arrangement, the char taking the Brathay, and the trout the Rothay. I Turns are bodies of still water, numerous on the mountains and sometimes found in the valleys. "In the economy of nature they are useful as auxiliars to lakes; for, if the whole quantity of water which falls upon the mountains in time of storm were poured down upon the plains, without intervention in some quarters of such receptacles, the habitable grounds would be much more subject than they are to inundation" (See Hudson's Guide, second edit., p. 130).

pany of water lilies there, with beds of gravel or stone beyond; a tiny stream issuing neither briskly nor sluggishly out of it; but its feeding rills, from the shortness of their course, so small as to be scarcely visible. Five or six cottages are reflected in its peaceful bosom, rocky and barren steeps rise up above the hanging enclosures, and the solemn pikes of Langdale overlook, from a distance, the low cultivated ridge of land that forms the boundary of this small quiet domain (Hudson's Tour).

At no great distance is Elter water, near which are extensive gunpowder works.

From the summit of Wansfell pike, which is 1,590 feet high, and which is on the east, may be seen the whole expanse of Windermere, with its islands; but, on account of the height, the view is not so fine as that from another part of the pike, Troutbeck hundreds, a little to the south.

RYDAL LAKE is a small but beautiful sheet of water, surrounded by mountains: on its surface are two wooded islets, which add much to the scene. The stream Rothay, winding round a promontory, enters it on the north; and, leaving it on the opposite side, falls into Windermere.

The lake is peculiarly subject to the storms above referred to. "On this day, March 30th, 1822, the winds have been acting upon the small lake of Rydal, as if they had received command to carry its waters from their bed into the sky: the white billows in different quarters disappeared under clouds, or rather drifts of spray, that were whirled along and up into the air by scouring winds, charging each other in squadrons in every direction upon the lake. The spray having been hurried aloft till it lost its consistency and whiteness, was driven along the mountain tops like flying showers that vanish in the distance. Frequently an eddying wind scooped the waters out of the basin, and forced them upwards in the very shape of an Icelandic geyser, or boiling fountain, to the height of several hundred feet" (Hudson's Tour, p. 178).

The village of Rydal, supposed to be a contraction of Rothay-dale, is situated in a narrow gorge, formed by the advance of Loughrigg Fell and Rydal Knab, at the lower extremity of Rydalmere, a mile and a quarter from Ambleside. Here, in the midst of a park containing great numbers of noble forest trees, stands Rydal-hall, the seat of lady Le Fleming, and which on the north and east is sheltered by lofty mountains. In front, towards the south, the view is very splendid, taking in the vale of Windermere, bounded by that lake. The mountain on the east is covered with wood. The celebrated falls are within the park, and strangers desirous to view them must take a conductor from one of the cottages near the hall gates. The fall below the house is beheld from the window of an old summer-house. "The sylvan, or say rather the forest scenery, of Rydal-park," says professor Wilson, the memory of living men, magnificent; and it still contains a treasure of old trees. By all

66

was, in

"Rydal-hall has been long in possession of this family. Sir Michael le Fleming, relative to Baldwin, earl of Flanders, brother-in-law of the Conqueror, was sent to the assistance of William, then newly arrived in England; and, for his services, that monarch gave him large grants of land in Furness. His descendants obtained possession of Rydal, in the reign of Henry VI., through marriage; and it has remained with them ever since" (Fisher's Picturesque Illustrations).

means, wander away into those old woods, and lose yourselves for an hour or two among the cooing of cushats, and the shrill shriek of startled blackbirds, and the rustle of the harmless glowworm among the last year's red beech-leaves. No very great harm should you even fall asleep under the shadow of an oak, while the magpie chatters at safe distance, and the more innocent squirrel peeps down upon you from a bough of the canopy, and then, hoisting his tail, glides into the obscurity of the loftiest umbrage."

Here, says West, nature has performed every thing in little, which she usually executes on her larger scale; and, on that account, like the miniature painter, seems to have finished every part of it in a studied manner: not a little fragment of a rock thrown into the basin, not a single stem of brushwood that starts from its craggy sides, but has its picturesque meaning; and the little central stream, dashing down a cleft of the darkestcoloured stone, produces an effect of light and shadow beautiful beyond description.

The chapel arrests the stranger's notice the moment he arrives at the village. It was erected by lady Le Fleming, in 1824, at her own expense. Rydal mount, the dwelling of Mr. Wordsworth, stands on a projection of the hill called "Knab Scar."

The road to Rydal, on the banks of the Rothay, under Loughrigg fell, is extremely delightful. Though more circuitous than the highway, it presents finer combinations of scenery. The tourist, intending to take this round, should pursue the road to Clappersgate for half a mile to Rothaybridge, and, having crossed the bridge, enter the first gate on the right. The road leads alongside the river, passing many handsome villas, to Pelterbridge, two and a-half miles. Rydal-hall, with its park, and Rydal-mount, will be frequently in sight. Behind, Ambleside, backed by Wansfell, has a picturesque appearance. On the right are the heights of Fairfield and Kirkstone. By crossing the bridge, the Keswick road will be gained, and the tourist can then either return to Ambleside, or proceed to Rydal, which is 300 or 400 yards further. Rydal-mere being passed, the road ascends the hill-side steeply for some time, until it reaches a splendid terrace, overlooking Grasmere lake, with its single islet; and then, climbing again, joins on Red-bank the Grasmere and Langdale road. This is by far the best station for viewing the lake and vale of Grasmere. In this vale, in the middle of the three roads leading to Ambleside, is the "Wishing gate," so called from a supposition that the wishes here formed will assuredly be accomplished. The tourist can now proceed to Grasmere village-a sweet village, at the head of the lake, four miles from Pelter bridge, and three and three-quarters by the nearest road from Ambleside. The church is a neat structure, lately repaired-it formerly belonged to the abbey of St. Mary, in York-dedicated to St. Oswald, who was bishop of York in the twelfth century.

SHORT READINGS FOR FAMILY PRAYERS.
No. XIX.

BY THE REV. HENRY WOODWARD, M.A.,
Rector of Fethard, Tipperary.

ON THE RICH FOOL.-1.

"And he spake a parable unto them, saying, The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully; and he thought where to bestow my fruits?"-LUKE xii. 16, 17.

within himself, saying, What shall I do, because I have no room

THE word which is here translated "ground" may signify also an extensive territory; and, if we so render it, the person spoken of in this parable was a large land-proprietor, and one in a high station of life. But it is more natural to suppose, from the description given, that what we should call a thriving farmer is intended. And this is one of those many and affecting incidental proofs with which scripture abounds of our Lord's not only positive but relative humiliation as man. To the incarnate God, the Prince of life and glory, in his human associations and habits of feeling, and when measured by himself and his own familiar friends, one whom the great would look down upon, was no unimportant personage. Compared with him who had not where to lay his head, and with those who had left all the little that they had to follow him, a wealthy cultivator of the ground was in an exalted and enviable position. How affecting then, in this view, is his exhortation to his disciples, in the twenty-second verse! He had been warning them against covetousness: he had been showing them the folly of heaping up treasures that perish; and now, when he comes to make the application to his little flock or family upon earth, in what shape or mode were they assailable by the temptations against which he has guarded them? Could it have even entered into their imaginations to expect, in the present dispensation, any of the glittering prizes of the world-to have large possessions, to be gorgeously apparelled, or to live delicately, as those in king's houses? No: their covetousness went no farther than the humble hope that they might have food to eat, and raiment to cover them from the cold: "He said unto his disciples, Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat; neither for the body, what ye shall put on.'

In the first of these verses we have a picture, drawn to the life, of what the world esteems a happy man. That money is the great idol of mankind is a lesson which we learn from every day's experience of these busy scenes around us. It is true the children of this world have lords many, and gods many; but still to mammon is paid the chief homage of their heart, and mind, and soul, and strength. Other idols have strong and powerful attractions; but their altars are quickly deserted when their votaries are summoned into the courts of mammon. The softest blandishments of pleasure, the most stirring objects of ambition, yield at once to his superior claims. All crowd around the portals of his temple: "the princes, the governors, and the captains, the judges, the treasurers, the counsellors, the sheriffs, and all the rulers of the provinces:" high and low, rich and poor, young and old, all are gathered together to the dedication of the image which the prince of the world hath set up; all fall down and worship before his

shrine. For money, amongst the humbler classes, life is perilled, health is sacrificed, youth is blighted in the bud. In the higher orders, among the other proofs of this blind devotion, we see how young men, touched with the loadstone of this magic power, can, in the article of marriage, master their feelings and conquer their instincts, and leave all by which nature can be most powerfully attracted; nay, how, though filled with vanity, they can disregard rank and title and brilliancy of station, and all flock around and all become suitors to some favourite or rather victim of mammon, that they may lead a cheerless life, unloving and unloved, thus immolating themselves upon the altar of the inexorable god.

consumma

Delusive though it be, yet, according to the estimate of the world, here is the picture of happiness at full length: "The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully." To be in undisputed possession of that prize for which the rest of mankind are in so many instances vainly striving is, to the earthly mind, a tion devoutly to be wished." But let us draw near to this envied man: let us listen to what passes in the secret chambers of his mind, where all false pretences would be vain. "He thought within himself." He does not speak out: his own breath affrights him in his distempered imagination the walls have ears: he dreads that some fellow-worshipper of mammon may overhear the secret of his wealth, and rob him of his treasure. Well, but what is it which he thus inwardly whispers to his own heart? Does he say, I am contented, I am at peace, I am happy? Does he silently lift up the tribute of his gratitude to heaven? No: it is not the voice of gratulation nor of joy. It is rather the language of perplexity, anxiety, and care. They are the very words of the unjust steward in his last extremity, "What shall I do?" And all these inward doubtings, and these "great thoughts of heart" were occasioned, be it observed, by the sudden influx of so much wealth. This man was not only enviable as rich, but riches had with him all the freshness and excitement of what was unlooked for and unanticipated. He was doubly happy as the world would think he had in his treasures things both new and old. The earthly mind becomes fatigued with sameness: the uniformity even of prosperity can cloy; and idols by constant familiarity lose their charm. But in the case before us this monotony was relieved: there was a current in the waters, a breeze upon life's surface; and covetousness was now feasted with something still more stimulating than its daily fare. So it was in appearance; but what is the secret here disclosed? We find this favoured mortal "thinking within himself," but not knowing on what to fix his thoughts-wanting counsel, but afraid to ask it-the object of pity, and not envy, if there were any indeed that knew the restlessness of his heart. We know that "they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and pierce themselves through with many sorrows." Such is the recoil of covetousness upon itself: such are the wages of those who make mammon their God. But what was it which swelled the tide of carefulness and mental agitation to overflowing? What was it which rendered this man at once prosperous without and indigent within? What was it which constituted

this seeming crisis of his exaltation the real crisis of his wretchedness? It was no other than the unexpected influx of new treasures: it was the glut of that for which all experience so keen an appetite: it was this that made the subject of the parable miserable through excess of happiness. His ground had brought forth plentifully beyond all his calculations: hence his carefulness: hence the anxieties which crowded upon his heart. "What shall I do," says he, "because I have no room where to bestow my fruits?"

THE POET LAUREATE.

INDEPENDENT of the charms of varied scenery, and the refreshing, even exhilarating feelings which generally result from the contemplation of the beauties of nature, in minds which can therein behold the power and the wisdom and the goodness of God, there is much additional interest excited by the view of certain localities, memorable as they are, from being connected with the brave or wise or eminent of their generation. Legh Richmond, with his usual aptitude for the description of scenery, beautifully refers to this, when he says, "Travellers, as they pass through the country, usually stop to inquire whose are the splendid mansions which they discover among the woods and plains around them. The families, titles, fortunes, or characters of the respective owners engage much attention. Perhaps their houses are exhibited to the admiring stranger. The elegant rooms, costly furniture, valuable paintings, beautiful gardens and shrubberies, are universally approved; while the rank, fashion, taste, and riches of the possessor, afford ample materials for entertaining discussion. In the mean time, the lowly cottage of the poor husbandman is passed by as scarcely deserving of notice." Mr. Richmond goes on to describe the delightful senhowsations which result from visiting a cottage, ever humble, if it contains a treasure of infinitely more value than the sumptuous palace of the rich man-even the "pearl of great price." "Hence the Christian traveller, while in common with others he bestows his due share of applause on the decorations of the rich, and is not insensible to the beauties and magnificence which are the lawfully allowed appendages of rank and fortune, cannot overlook the humbler dwelling of the poor. And, if he should find that true piety and grace beneath the thatched roof, which he has in vain looked for amidst the worldly grandeur of the rich, he remembers the declarations of the word of God; sees with admiration that 'the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy, who dwelleth in the high and holy place,' dwelleth with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit.' When a house is thus tenanted, faith beholds this inscription written on the walls,

The Lord lives here." Faith, therefore, cannot pass it by unnoticed, but loves to lift up the latch of the door, and to sit down and converse with the poor" (Dairyman's Daughter).

With feelings arising indeed from a different

which greatly enhances their value, that he never leads the lower orders to entertain any thing like invidious feelings to those

It is a prominent feature in all Mr. Richmond's writings,

placed in more exalted ranks by the good providence of God. give rise to feelings utterly opposed to good order.

It is too much the custom to rail at the affluent, and even to