"Mem. David Gam to be a gay, never-do-well sort of scoundrel, like Jack Bunce in the Pirate,—brave, but rather dishonest. Twin John Catty, the Welsh Rob Roy, to be introduced at the commencement of the first volume: brave and determined, bold and generous; fine description of his retreat into the mountains of Radnorshire, to be very patriotic. To be a sort of underplot of his love for the lady of Llanyrcoot, Owen's daughter, named Gyneth, who is to be heroine." "Mem. Meyrick's Cardigan to be added to my library: some good scenes to be collected from the views which I may press into service.

"I have just received a tale, called The Fair Witch of Glas Llynn,' published by Fearman, Bond-street, London. All about Owen, but wretched stuff. Mine will quite supersede. Can any thing be made of the Cymmrodorian? I might make Owen a member."

"So saying, Gyneth drew a dagger from her belt, and plunged it into the traitor's breast. He fell down the

rock, and expired with a hideous groan; whilst his followers, enraged at this unhappy catastrophe, unsheathed their blades, swearing with fury to revenge the death of their leader. Sir Simon de Mountfort cried aloud, No mercy! Kill, burn, and slay his cruel murderers. Revenge him truly with your daggers, and take a Cambrian life for every drop of blood that hath oozed from his death-wound.' His band replied with a loud cheer, and, preparing for the combat, determined to obey to its utmost extent his vengeful mandate; but the undaunted Gyneth stepping forward, cried, What! is this the English chivalry, of which the wandering minstrels, who have visited your land, speak so highly? Ye are two hundred, we are but forty; then let but forty encounter us in the combat, and we shall see"

"Fine opening chapter on, the causes of Glendower's rising for rebellion, as some call it, in the style of Sir Walter Scott's Ivanhoe. I have

been polishing the sentences for the last ten months. Mem. To request the reviewers to make their extracts from that chiefly, as it is quite a favourable specimen."

was written partly on a wirewove sheet of foolscap, partly on the back of a bill for butcher's meat, sent in by John Hodgkinson, butcher, of the market-town of Bradgate, which had, by some accident, fallen into Sir Robert's hands, and partly on the front of the same, whereby the names of some gallant Cambrian heroes were oddly enough mingled with sirloins of beef, veal cutlets, rump steaks, and legs of mutton. Some other papers appeared to possess considerable interest, both for myself and the public, and I considered that the best vehicle for their publication would be a deservedly popular magazine. I shall, therefore, in future papers, present my readers with the best gleanings of Sir Robert's collection.

July 16, 1824.

ARTHUR HOWARD.

ESSAYS TO THE JEWS.

Essay I.-On the Abrahamic Covenant. WHEN we consider the distinguished place which the history of the patri

arch Abraham holds in the sacred vo

lume, the importance of a right understanding of the various transactions of God with him, in the capacity and the father of believers of all ages, of the father of the Israelitish nation, must be fully manifest, both as it reconsidering this subject, it is truly a spects Jews and Christians. And in happy circumstance that the interto rest on mere human authority; but pretation is not necessarily required the subject has been fully unfolded by the apostles of our Lord, who had the true and infallible meaning of the Jewish scriptures communicated to them by inspiration, and who have furnished us with this infallible interpretation in their writings in the New Testament. On the writings of the Old Testament scriptures, particularly those of Moses, they have founded those sublime and enlarged views of the doctrines of the gospel, and of the divine dispensations, which they have so clearly elucidated in their writings, so that their explications of the Jewish scriptures, and the conclusions which they have drawn from them, form a principal part of the gospel revelation. Nor can there be any objection to the latter class of writers more than to the former, since both equally laid claim to the same divine authority,

K

and were equally privileged in affording the same divine credentials in attestation of the doctrines they taught or explained.

God's transactions with Abraham, according to the relation of Moses, consist of a variety of promises made to him in the form of a covenant, or stipulation, on the part of God, namely, That he would exceedingly bless Abraham-And that in him all the families of the earth should be blessed That he should be the father of a numerous offspring, and very fruitful -That he would give to Abraham, and to his seed after him, all the land of Canaan for an everlasting possession. That besides all this, he would also make or constitute Abraham the father of many nations-That in his seed, all the nations of the earth should be blessed—And that he would be a God unto him, and to his seed after him, throughout their generations. This much, in these transactions, is engaged for on the part of God. And on the part of Abraham, to shew us that the things promised to him in the covenant, depended on his continuing to believe and obey God, and on his training his children after him to keep the way of the Lord, and to do justice and judgment,-the Lord said concerning him, Gen. xviii. 19. "I know him, that he will command his children and his household after him, to keep the way of the Lord, and to do justice and judgment, that the Lord may bring upon Abraham that which he hath spoken of him."

The passages which contain God's transactions with Abraham occur in the book of Genesis, namely, Gen, xii. 1—3, 7; xiii. 14-17; xv. 1-18; xvii. 1—14, 19, 21; xviii. 19; xxii. 1, 2, 10-18.

These various passages contain the promises, or stipulations, or covenant, which God made with Abraham, when he engaged to be a God unto him and to his seed after him, throughout all generations.

"To understand these promises," says Dr. Macknight, “in the whole extent of their meaning, the reader should recollect, that, in the early ages, before the art of writing was invented, the most approved method of communicating and preserving knowledge, was by allegory; that is, by making sensible objects which were present, or not very distant in point

of time, representations of things which are not the objects of sense, or which are future, but which have some affinity to the things made use of to represent them. In this method of instruction, the characters and actions of remarkable persons, and the ordinary events of their life, were, on some occasions, considered as prefigurations of more distant persons and events, to which they had a resemblance." Thus Abraham, in respect of the faith and obedience which he exercised in uncircumcision, was a type of believers of all nations; hence he is called their father. Melchizedec, David, and Jonah, in like manner typified Christ in certain events of their life; and the apostle Paul declares, Gal. iv. 24. that Abraham's two wives and sons were allegorical representations of the two covenants, and of the persons placed under these covenants. The characters, actions, and events which constituted this kind of allegory, though existing apparently in the ordinary course of things, were so ordered of God, as to be fit emblems of those future persons and events, the knowledge of which God intended to communicate to the world."

But, besides this kind of allegory, which may be called natural, there is in scripture what may be called the instituted allegory; that is, certain actions appointed or instituted by God, to be performed under such and such circumstances, for the purpose of prefiguring future persons and events. Of this sort were all the Levitical sacrifices, particularly the paschal lamb, John xix. 36, and all the rites of worship appointed by Moses, which, as the apostle tells us, Heb. x. 1, were shadows of good things to come.

"This account of the ancient scripture allegory, it is the more necessary to remark," adds Dr. Macknight, “because from what our Lord and his apostles have said concerning the promises in the covenant with Abraham, it appears that that transaction, besides its first meaning which terminated in the persons and events literally spoken of, had an allegorical or second and higher meaning, which was to be accomplished in persons and events more remote. For example: Abraham's son Isaac, though he was not yet born, was considered in the covenant as a type of his seed by

faith. In like manner, Isaac's super- ( natural birth, accomplished by the power of God, typified the regenera- | tion of believers by the same power; and the land of Canaan, promised to the natural seed as their inheritance, was an emblem of the heavenly country, the inheritance of the seed by faith. In short, the temporal blessings promised in the covenant to the natural seed, had all an allegorical or second meaning, being images of those better blessings which God intended to bestow in a more remote period on Abraham's seed by faith."

The promises in the covenant with Abraham, thus allegorically interpreted according to their true intention, throw great light on the gospel revelation, in which there are many allusions to that covenant; not to mention that the accomplishment of its promises in their literal meaning to Abraham's natural seed, is a striking proof of the divine original, both of the covenant itself, and of the gospel which it prefigured.

Having thus hinted at the allegorical meaning of the Abrahamic covenant, which we intend more fully to establish in the next Essay, we must say a few words before concluding the present, respecting the twofold seed of Abraham, at which we have as yet only hinted. Macknight, speaking of the promises given to Abraham respecting his seed, after some remarks on the original expressions, says, that "he (Abraham, namely,) was to be the father of many nations by the constitution or appointment of God; and that he was to be so exceedingly fruitful by procreating children, that nations were to be made of him, and kings were to come out of him. In this diversity of expression, God intimated to Abraham, that he was to have two kinds of seed; one by the constitution or appointment of God, in respect of which he was to be a father of many nations; and another by natural descent, in respect of which he was to be exceedingly fruitful in children. This account of Abraham's seed merits attention, because the promises in the covenant being made, not to Abraham alone, but to his seed; in their first or literal meaning they belonged to his natural seed, but in their second or highest meaning, they were promises to his seed by faith."

"The distinction of Abraham's seed into two kinds, is intimated by our Lord himself, John viii. 39, where he told the Jews who sought to kill him, that notwithstanding they were the natural offspring of Abraham, they were not his children, unless they did the works of Abraham. The same distinction is taught still more plainly by the apostle Paul, who calls Abraham's natural progeny, his seed by the law, the law of marriage; but his seed by the appointment of God, who gave believers of all nations to him for seed, that which is by the faith of Abraham, Rom. iv. 16, that the promise might be sure to all the seed, not to that only which is of the law, but tỏ that also which is by the faith of Abraham, who is the father of us all.' In like manner, the same apostle, by telling us, Rom. ix. 8, the children of the flesh, these are not the children of God, but the children of the promise are counted for the seed,' hath insinuated that Abraham had two kinds of children or seed, and that the seed by the promise, a father of many nations I have made or constituted thee,' are the children of God, to whom alone the promises in the covenant, in their second and highest meanings, belong.'

Here, then, Christian or Gentile believers are taught an important lesson. If there be two distinct seeds included in God's covenant with Abraham, a natural and a spiritual, the question then occurs, To which of them do we Gentiles belong? And the answer is, Not to the natural, but to the spiritual, provided we be possessed of the faith of Abraham. But then again it occurs, If we ourselves be connected with Abraham only by faith, and if this connexion be only spiritual, and not carnal, how comes it to pass that our children, who are connected with us only by carnal descent, can be included in a covenant which we ourselves had no interest in till we believed? Would not this be connecting carnal things with spiritual, and to the spiritual part of Abraham's seed joining a carnal part, which seems incompatible, not to say with these passages merely, but with the very nature of the things? It is true, the Jews, the carnal seed, might have spoken of their natural descendants being also included in the covenant along with themselves; but

the spiritual cannot admit of such a thing without destroying its constitution altogether.

(To be continued.)

3, Elder-street, Edinburgh, Nov. 25, 1824.

THE INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY UPON THE FAIR SEX.

(From the French of T. A. De Segur.)

By L. Man, of Liverpool.

AMONG the patriarchs, women were only considered as mothers and housekeepers; among the Egyptians, they enjoyed a higher rank, but still only in as much as they were the sources of pleasure; in Greece they were sometimes neglected, as in Athens, and sometimes rudely exposed to the gaze of men, as in Sparta, where a cold and mistaken policy degraded them by an unnatural arrangement; in Rome they acted a nobler part during the early periods of the republic, but afterwards they were given up to every seduction and danger; they shared the downfall of the empire, and they became corrupted with it. Such had been the gradual progress of manners, and the condition of women, until the reign of Tiberius.

emotions of their hearts, fanned their natural inclination towards piety, love, and devotion, and offered pleasing occupations, accompanied by enjoyments without remorse. It is difficult to describe the prodigious revolution which this moment produced.

Christianity, though strict in principle, enjoined indulgence and charity towards fellow-creatures, and it replaced the reign of the senses by that of the mind. Ancient policy and philosophy had connected every thing with the interest of society; but the new legislation shewed this world as unimportant, and future life as the only object that deserved to engage our cares, and to animate our hope. All was thereby purified. Men became ashamed of licentiousness, and women became more modest; they valued chastity, and imposed sacrifices upon themselves; they practised meekness and humility, that they might rise the higher; and their faults grew less in number, by their willingness and obligation to confess them. Every Christian wished to bridle his desires, and to set limits to his passions; duties became pleasures, wise institutions were organized, vows were pronounced, indissoluble connexions were formed; marriage, which had been merely an arrangement of convenience, became a sacred and solemn tie, sanctified at the altar, and protected by the laws; pure and simple morals offered assistance in misfortune, whilst weakness and innocence were sure of meeting with sym

Until then, women had been undecided in their desires; their very thoughts had been subjected to the male sex; they knew of no lucid intervals, but the transitory glimpses of pleasure, and they lived in hopeless expectation. Christianity taught them to govern their passions and their minds; they were animated by a pure, but ardent flame, and became inspired with the love of God, whereby they enjoyed that anticipated bliss, which faith imparts even in the midst of misfortune.

It was particularly on the tender souls of females, that the law of Christ could exert its power; and women were actually the foremost in embracing its dogmas, which corresponded so well with all the secret

seemed to have descended upon the earth, to stifle hatred and to forbid revenge, inviting mortals to love and to support each other; whilst religion united all true believers, and formed an immense chain, which extended even unto the throne of the Deity.

The new religion must have been particularly interesting to females. It not only established a more equal balance between the two sexes; but it corresponded, in some measure, with that love of acquiring and exerting influence, which is ever prevailing in women. To make converts is cultivating this inclination, and females have always been more active in that occupation than men.

England, France, a part of Germany, Hungary, Bohemia, Poland, Russia, and, during some time, even Persia

received the gospel through the hands of the fair; and thousands of proselytes were the happy fruits of wellemployed charms and graces. That innate sensibility, which love perverts into passion, was, by religion, transformed into sweet and consoling pity. The desire to see others as happy as they were themselves, and to relieve misfortune wheresoever they could, inspired them with an almost supernatural ardour in the cause of righteousness. Sacred asylums for the unfortunate were instituted, patronized, and maintained by then; affection and pity triumphed over the repugnance, which they must have felt at the sight of hideous objects; and they administered succours which became doubly sweet by the manner in which they were bestowed. Evils were remedied, complaints were heard, tears met with sympathy, and indigence was assisted. Even the persecutions, to which Christians were exposed, only served to develop female virtue the more conspicuously.

Calm and triumphant, religion had won their hearts, and called forth their tenderness; but troubles, threats, and proscriptions electrified their courage, and elevated their sentiments: urged by holy zeal, they were foremost in precipitating themselves on the burning piles which tyranny had prepared. Thus, thanks to this inspired devotion, and its persuasive doctrine, Christianity inflamed more and more their susceptible and feeling hearts, by its very mystery and inconceivable agency. The same beings, who had formerly rivalled the splendour of their ornaments by their charms, and had lived in the midst of incense and homage, did then cover themselves with hair-cloth; and, forgetting their attractions, as well as their weakness, they set death at defiance, and asked for it: they dismissed the cares of this life, and plunged with sanctified enthusiasm into the hidden abysses of futurity.

There is, however, nothing wonderful in this prodigious courage. The religion which they so ardently defended, protected their weakness; it introduced a new circle of ideas and institutions, and a fresh social order, in which they might occupy a more decent place, and be more independent of men. If they remained in the world, a sacred law united them to

their husbands; and if they consecrated themselves to retirement, they depended only upon their Maker: in short, they had been slaves, and the new law made them free.

THE MENDICANT-A TALE.
"Let not ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys and destiny obscure;
Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the poor."
GRAY.

A FEW years have now elapsed since,
as I was, one winter's evening, taking
my accustomed walk along a seques-
tered lane, highly fenced on each side
with a thorn hedge, and viewing with
admiration the starry heavens glowing
with living sapphires, and the moon
shining with cloudless majesty, my
attention was suddenly arrested by
the sound of something proceeding
from behind the hedge, on
right; which, on nearer approach,
proved to be the sound of a human
voice, uttering, in strains the most
sorrowful, a long string of bitter com-
plainings, which was concluded in the
words of our far-famed poet :-

"When shall I lay this weary head,
And aching heart, beneath the soil,
To slumber in that dreamless bed,
From all my toil?"

my

Here the speaker paused; and I, afraid of being detected in the situation I was then in, boldly stepped across the hedge, and approached near to the person who had been thus speaking. He proved to be a venerable looking old man, with a fine open countenance, a long white beard, which flowed down upon his breast, and a bright piercing eye; whilst beside him lay a large stick, and a wallet, containing, what I supposed to be, provisions which had been given him by his more opulent neighbours. Having stammered out the best apology I was able, for thus intruding on his solitude, he observed, "I suppose you have overheard my complaining, and have been, no doubt, astonished at hearing me (who am, as you see, an old beggar) repeat that verse of poetry." I replied, that it had excited my surprise, and that I should feel very much obliged to him if he would have the goodness to tell me how he had acquired the lines."Well," said he," before I can tell you how I came to have an opportu