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Tetzel and indulgences; they declaim against Rome; but they seem unconscious that they are partakers of that which is the most awful and revolting article of her unholy merchandise,—the souls of men.' 0 Christ, for thy whip of small cords to scourge the buyers and sellers out of thy house of prayer! O Thou, whose eyes are as a flame of fire! thou beholdest it. Surely this is the casting of a stumbling-block before the Church, after the pattern of the mercenary Balaam; a seducing of the people, by example, to sacrifice everything on the idolatrous altar of gain or worldly interest; and to satisfy and delude their souls with evasions of the strict and lofty principles of Christian duty. It is an attempt to accommodate the chaste and holy bride of Christ to the venal maxims of a mercantile community, so that even the god of this world may descend disguised to her embraces in the form of a shower of gold. Yes; this is, indeed, no less than spiritual fornication between the Church and the world; and this is idolatry, since 'covetousness is idolatry.' These, and such as these, among ourselves, are they who hold the doctrine of Balaam ; who taught Balac to put a stumbling-block before the children of Israel, to eat things sacrificed to idols, and to commit fornication.” (“Gate of Prophecy," vol. i., pp. 102-105.)

So far as insertion in the Wesleyan Magazine can effect it, Mr. Galloway's protestation against the doings of the worst enemies of the Anglican Church will thus be more widely extended, than if it were limited to the readers of his book. E.

TRUTH.

MAY I tell a lie to preserve my secret? I am the author of an anonymous work,―Junius, Waverley, an article in a Review. It is important to me to remain unknown as the author. I am asked if I am the author; or I am charged with being so. Am I compelled to confess? am I allowed to deny? To this I reply negatively to both inquiries. I am not compelled to confess; but I am not allowed to deny. I am not allowed, by the rules of morality, to say what is not true, because to tell the truth is inconvenient or disagreeable. The rule of truth, the conception of truth, admits of no such exception. The rule cannot be, Never tell a lie except when to tell the truth is inconvenient or disagreeable to you. Such a rule would destroy the very nature of truth. It is not what we mean by truth. It is a rejection of the universal understanding which prevails among mankind. It is using words in a sense in which I know mankind do not understand me to use them. I may not, therefore, deny. I may not say, No, when they ask me if it is so. But must I say, Yes? must I confess? By no means. I am under no such necessity. I may be silent. I may refuse to answer. I may put aside the inquiry. You say that this would be really to confess, or at least to disclose the truth; that it would be so interpreted; and that I am, in this way, robbed of my secret. I reply, that whether my answer is understood as a disclosure, must depend upon the skill with which I frame it, and put the question by ; but that, if it is so understood, that is a necessary consequence of writing an anonymous book, and then associating on familiar terms with acute and inquisitive friends. If I am not a match for them in the light skirmish of colloquial attack and defence, I had better keep out of their way, when I am laden with such a secret. To say that I may lie, in order that I may not be robbed of my secret, is to say that I

may preserve an unrecognised possession by violating recognised rules. It is as if I should claim, as my own property, a field which other people look upon as common, and protect myself in it, not by a visible fence, but by invisible pitfalls.- Whewell.

WESLEY PAPERS.

(FROM THE EVANGELICAL MAGAZINE.)

No. XXII. LETTERS OF THE REV. JOHN WESLEY.

1.-LETTER OF THE REV. JOHN WESLEY TO A CLERGYMAN IN IRELAND.

Charlemount, June 16th, 1787.

REV. AND DEAR SIR,-I am under obligations to you on many accounts, from the first time I saw you, particularly for the kind concern you showed when I was sick at Tanderagee. These have increased upon me every time I have since had the pleasure of waiting upon you. Permit me, Sir, to speak without reserve. Esteem was added to my affectionate regard when I saw the uncommon care and pains you took with the flock committed to your charge; as also when I observed your remarkable serious manner in praying with your family. Many years have passed since that time, many more than I am likely to see under the sun. But before I go hence I would fain give you one instance of my sincere regard; the rather, because I can scarce expect to see you again till we meet in a better world. But it is difficult for me to do it, as I feel myself inferior to you in so many respects. Yet permit me to ask you a strange question, Is your soul as much alive to God as it was once? Have not you suffered loss from your relations or acquaintance, that are sensible and agreeable, but not incumbered with religion? some of them, perhaps, as free from the very form, as from the power, of it!

O, Sir, if you lose any of the things which you have wrought, who can make you amends for that loss? If you do not receive a full reward, what equivalent can you gain? I was pained even at your hospitable table, in the midst of those I loved so well, as we did not begin and close the meal in the same manner you did ten years ago. You was then, contrary to almost universal custom, unfashionably serious in asking a blessing and returning thanks. I know many would blame you for it. But, surely, your Lord said, "Servant of God, well done."

Wishing you and your lovely family every blessing,
I am, dear and Rev. Sir,

Your obliged and affectionate brother and servant,

JOHN WESLEY.

II.-LETTER OF THE REV. JOHN WESLEY TO MR. JAMES MORGAN.

St. Just, September 3d, 1768. Dear Jemmy,I have been thinking much of you; and why should I not tell you all I think and all I fear concerning you? I think all that you said at the Conference upon the subject of the late debate was right; and it amounted to no more than this,-The general rule is, they who are in the favour of God, know they are so. But there may be some few exceptions. Some may fear and love God, and yet not be clearly conscious of his favour; at least, they may not dare to affirm that their sins are forgiven. If you put the case thus, I think no man in his senses will be under any temptation to contradict you; for none can doubt but whosoever loves

God, is in the favour of God. But is not this a little mis-stating the case? I do not conceive the question turned here. But you said, or was supposed to say, "All penitents are in the favour of God," or, "All who mourn after God, are in the favour of God." And this was what many disliked, because they thought it was unscriptural and unsafe, as well as contrary to what we had always taught. That this is contrary to what we have always taught, is certain, as all our hymns, as well as other writings, testify. So that whether it be true or not, it is without all question a new doctrine among the Methodists. We have always taught that a penitent mourned, or was pained, on this very account, because he felt he was not in the favour of God, having a sense of guilt upon his conscience, and a sense of the divine displeasure at the same time. Hence we supposed the language of his heart was, "Lost and undone, for aid I cry." And we believed he was really lost and undone till God did

"Peace, righteousness, and joy impart,
And speak forgiveness to his heart."

I still apprehend this to be scriptural doctrine, confirmed not by a few detached texts, but by the whole tenor of Scripture, and more particularly by the Epistle to the Romans. But if so, the contrary to it must be unsafe, for that general reason, because it is unscriptural. To which we might add this particular reason, it naturally tends to lull mourners asleep; to make them cry, "Peace, peace," to their souls, "when there is no peace." It directly tends to damp and still their convictions, and to encourage them to sit down contented before Christ is revealed to them, and before the Spirit witnesses with their spirits that they are the children of God. But it may be asked, "Will not this discourage mourners?" Yes, it will discourage them from stopping where they are; it will discourage them from resting before they have the witness in themselves, before Christ is revealed in them. But it will encourage them to seek him in the Gospel way,-to ask, till they receive pardon and peace. And we are to encourage them,-not by telling them that they are in the favour of God, though they do not know it. Such a word as this we should never utter in a congregation, at the peril of our souls; but we should assure them, "Every one that seeketh findeth, every one that asketh receiveth." If a man does not know the pardoning love of God for himself, I would ask, how, or by what means, are you to know it for him? Has God given you to search the heart and try the reins of your hearers? Can you infallibly know the real state of that man's mind? Can you certain that no secret sin stands between God and his soul? Are you sure he does not regard iniquity in his heart? I am afraid you have not been sufficiently wary in this, but have given occasion to them who sought occasion. But this is not all. I doubt you did not see the hand of God in Shimei's tongue. Unto you it was given to suffer a little of what you extremely wanted,-obloquy and evil report. But you did not either acknowledge the gift, or the Giver. You saw only Mr. not God. O Jemmy, you do not know yourself. You cannot bear to be continually steeped in poison,-in the esteem and praise of men: therefore I tremble at your stay in Dublin. It is the most dangerous place for you under heaven! All I can say is, God can preserve you in the fiery furnace, and I hope he will.

I am, dear Jemmy,

be

Yours affectionately,

JOHN WESLEY.

SCENES IN CAIRO.

THE people, generally, of Egypt, whether of the Egyptian or Arab race, are good-natured and light-hearted; and, like all idle and ill-educated people, passionately fond of low buffoonery. Day after day, and all day long, groups are seen on the Esbekieh, clustering with intense interest round some coarse posture-master or bad conjurer. The party which appeared to me to be the most attractive, stationed always under the glow of the same west wall, and always surrounded by a throng of unwearied admirers, consisted of a white-bearded old man, with the green turban of a Hadji, who sat on the ground, dancing two puppets on a string, to the sound of three little drums, of an hour-glass shape, thumped with straps by another man and two veiled women sitting opposite to him. Before these three were conjuring cups and vases, which they occasionally turned up, and out of which would crawl a serpent, or hop forth a tame bird,-one should say, when least expected, if one judged by the buzz of surprise with which the apparition was always received. But the same event happened so often, and in just the same manner, that there was in truth no moment at which the spectators had not a fair right to expect it. To this party of performers belonged a clown or jester, whose running commentary on the feats of the other was above measure popular. But his principal jest was this: every now and then he would pick a quarrel with the puppets, and aim a blow at them with a strap or courbash, apparently with intent to kill; but always contriving to make the instrument miss his intended victim, and come round with a loud crack on his own shoulders. This was always received, happen as often as it would, with shrieks of delight by the bystanders, children, women, and men, of all ages and all conditions. There was one very venerable and well-dressed old gentleman, in a flowing caftan of yellow silk, and ample turban, with a large chaplet of beads round his neck, and a long amber-lipped chibouk, which he silently and gravely smoked, never disturbing it, save as often as this event of the clown's self-castigation occurred. This, however, was too much for his gravity; which, from his appearance at all other moments, I doubt whether anything else ever did or could affect. This never failed. I do not remember ever passing this group without seeing this same old gentleman always contemplating this performance, and his pipe always alight. He was probably some merchant or agent, who daily set forth with the intent to cross the Esbekieh on business, but never could succeed in passing this spot.-Lord Nugent's "Lands Classical and Sacred."

FRANCIS SPIRA.

BY THE REV. W. K. TWEEDIE, EDINBURGH.

Ir is often remarked, that all the great principles by which God would guide the world have been evolved amid controversy and commotion. Without going beyond the Christian era, we see this signally exemplified in the various periodic agitations which have disturbed the peace, but at the same time promoted the progress, of the church, and the truth of which it is the custodier. When the Christian system, the truth as it is in Jesus, was first fully developed among men, how resolute the hostility which it had to encounter! Good in the highest sense was the object aimed at, and antagonism seemed the condition of achieving it. At the Reformation, again,

when great truths were once more disembarrassed, that they might emancipate the souls of men, the same scenes occurred. Truth was not allowed to make progress in silence; but Emperors and Popes, principalities and powers, banded against it; when the concussion between truth and error was such as to remind us of the reverberation occasioned by the lightning when it enters the cloud. In still more modern times, the same result has been For example, when the grand truth that the church of Christ should be evangelistic, as well as evangelical, began to be brought forth from its long neglect, many still remember the hostility which it encountered. Assemblies debated against Missions, and voted them down. The worldlywise derided; the formalist raised the cry of fanaticism; and even some of the friends of truth, instead of throwing themselves boldly upon principle, or upon Him who is the believer's rock of defence, were timid and cautious, to an extent that rendered many of them time-serving.

seen.

In those times of trouble, evil as well as good is developed. If the principle of steadfastness be drawn out into action in those who know the truth, and love it, the opposite principle becomes apparent in others, who fear man more than God, and love a portion upon earth better than the inheritance of the saints in light. There were Judas and Demas in Paul's time,—as there had been a Jehu in the days of old,—and we are now to recount some startling incidents in the life of a noted apostate of the era of the Reformation.

Francis Spira, to whom we now refer, lived about the middle of the sixteenth century (1548). He was a Doctor of law, and an Advocate of high rank in the town of Cittadella, in the province of Italy, then subject to Venice. He was distinguished by his learning and his eloquence, possessed of a subtle mind, and was highly intelligent. His attainments and position secured for him the esteem of many, while his wealth gave him an influence which rendered him one of the most notable men of his community. About his forty-fourth year, Spira's attention began to be turned to the works of Luther and other Reformers. Eager in the pursuit of knowledge, he forth with began to inquire. The Scriptures were searched, books of controversy studied, and the result was, a conviction that Lutheranism was true, and Popery false. Spira embraced the resuscitated doctrines with so much zeal, that he soon became in his turn a Preacher of them at least, among his family (which was numerous) and his friends he sought to disseminate what he had himself embraced. To some extent he abandoned other pursuits, and urged his friends to depend solely on the grace of God in Christ for salvation. He was well versed in the Scriptures, took a firm hold of their doctrines, and did all that he could to spread the light at once by his life and his lessons.

:

For about six years Spira continued thus to befriend the Reformed cause. He exerted his influence privately at first, but eventually waxed more decided and bold, and the country around Padua became agitated by the truths which he proclaimed. The pardons and indulgencies of priestcraft lost their value, the old superstition was assailed and undermined, and threatened to fall. The cry of the craft in danger was accordingly raised, and Spira became the object of hatred and persecution. Calumnies of the grossest kinds were circulated against him, and it soon became apparent that if he would be a Reformer to bless mankind, he must take his life in his hand, and hazard it for the name of Jesus.

The Pope's Legate at Venice, at that period, was the noted Della Casa; and he entered with zeal into the persecution that had begun against Spira. That functionary was distinguished for hatred to the truth and hostility to

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