instruction, was the Holy Scriptures. His readers will perceive, that he brings before them striking pictures of Death, Judgment, and Eternity: he illustrates and enlivens his reasonings with facts, characters and anecdotes, many of which are drawn from real life. He saw that the Bible is full of these; that our Lord makes use of every passing occasion, of every object in nature, to fix the attention and impress the hearts of those he addresses.'-p. 39.

The style of his sermons is certainly very peculiar his manner, however, was earnest and impressive,' and he was so gifted in voice and articulation' that the plainest discourse came 'mended from his tongue':-to this we incline to attribute much of the success which undoubtedly attended them in the pulpit. In the closet we are frequently called to notice a singular want of taste and even of judgment: in fact, the author himself seems to be aware of this defect; and in his Common-Place Book,' has introduced some characteristic remarks upon the subject:

'The occasional abruptness of my sermons is not owing to inattention, but to design; were I previously to show the manner in which I intend to carry on the attack, I should act like a general who should publish all his plans to the party he wishes to overcome. Through the whole of my life I have been of opinion, that the poor, and indeed that all ranks of people, are best taught by tales and parables. Not to be affected with the marvellous is an irrational and false refinement which the poorest people never arrive at in any age. It is on this principle that I encourage myself to say in the pulpit what often appears very uncommon and extraordinary, and what, by many people, is taken for a useless and wild eccentricity. But to a mind free from refinement, every thing said in this manner comes with double weight. It approaches to the nature of the marvellous, which is the strongest power by which the human mind is governed.'

Again:

To me it appears not to be enough considered how much harm is done by being tedious and tiresome. It is this that makes empty pews in so many churches. Of my own sermons I feel perfectly certain that they have done more harm, by being wearisome, and by setting people asleep, than they ever did by being uncommon. I certainly allow, that in my mode of preaching, it is very easy to go too far: the very attempt itself to write a striking sermon unavoidably exposes one to the danger of writing a bad one; for it is a very thin division that separates what is very bad from what is very good. This division is sometimes so very slight that it cannot be seen at all.' 'It always occurs to me that going too far will never be discovered by the greatest part of my hearers if I cannot find it out myself; and as to the judicious few, I always give them credit for being satisfied with my intention, though not with my judgment.'

The discourses in the latter volume are less objectionable in these respects; but our limits will not admit of any particular

remarks. It must, after all, be admitted that the effect of Mr. Mayow's preaching was materially assisted by the excellence of his personal character, and, above all, by his active and indefatigable benevolence. His bounty to the poor was most liberal; his extreme readiness indeed to plead their cause upon all occasions, was a peculiarly striking trait in his character. The rich,' he used to say, have many friends, the poor but few. I must speak a word for them.'

Next to the Bible, Mr. Mayow admired and loved the Serious Call' and the Christian Perfection' of William Law. In his style, both of thought and expression, and in his mode of illustration by the introduction of fictitious characters, he bears a strong resemblance to that original and powerful writer.

Mr. Mayow considered it the duty of Christians to aim at perfection, though they never could reach it, and in his own personal habits, no man could more strictly realize his own theory. His extreme moderation,' says his biographer, in the use even of the necessaries of life; his cheerful abstinence sometimes wholly from food, that he might keep under his body, and have the more to give to him that needed; his self-denial in renouncing all superfluities and worldly ease; his liberal bounty to the poor, which made it difficult for him to keep a sixpence in his pocket; all these plainly show, that he desired for himself no abatement of his own rule, and that he lived for the greatest and most excellent ends.'

He

In his performance of all the relative duties, Mr. Mayow was equally exemplary. His love for his wife was tender, ardent, and uniform, and he consulted her happiness in every thing. attended carefully to the religious education of his children, relating to them, in his walks, stories from the Bible, and adding suitable reflections, which made them better acquainted with the Scriptures than they could have been any other way. His kindness and attention to his servants, and their attachment to him, are strikingly shown in the account of his last illness.

The Life and Sermons are followed by the Substance of several Speeches' to a District Committee for promoting Christian Knowledge, which are thrown together into one continuous Oration. We have here abundant marks of his good-humour, his active benevolence, his pastoral zeal, and his personal exertions in promoting the circulation of the Scriptures among his poorer neighbours, and in enabling them to read them.

The extracts from the Common-Place Book come next. Some of them show much depth and originality of thought, and much accurate observation of human nature. We would particularly call the attention of our readers to the judicious remarks on the practical influence of the great doctrine of atonement; to those

on

on inscriptions in churches, prefaced by an extract from a charge by the venerable Bishop of Durham, and to what he says on the use of illustrations in scriptures. As might be supposed, from our preceding strictures, there are a few (though but a few) of these detached thoughts, which it would have been prudent to

suppress.

We now come to a singular and very characteristic part of the volume, entitled Deaths of my Parishioners,' which is thus pre

faced

'I have written several sermons on death, but I am now about to treat the subject in another and, perhaps, a more interesting way. No subject is more interesting than death, and yet there are many sermons on the subjects which are uninteresting-very. Had I time, I could philosophically prove, that the sight of a dead man is the most awful sight that man can possibly behold. Death is a miracle, for we can have no experience of death; we can die but once, and what miracle wrought so often would be half so awful? We see it, but beyond it we can see nothing; so fearful is death that men have suffered anything rather than die; I intend if I can to keep a journal of death, that is, to make notes of every thing which happens in the scenes of death which I witness. Surely if the description of such scenes could be read from the pulpit, they would interest the hearers more than any sermons could do.'

The intercourse which takes place between a clergyman and his sick and dying parishioners is of the most interesting, and, we must add, of the most SACRED nature. We are, therefore, disposed to doubt the expediency of preserving any records of such intercourse, even when it is intended solely and strictly for the perusal of him who makes it. If done at all, some language not commonly understood should be made use of. There can, however, be no doubt of the impropriety of giving such records to the world.

We admire Mr. Mayow so sincerely, that it is with real reluctance that we say any thing approaching to censure. We are, however, compelled to add, that not only do we object altogether to these records of the deaths of his parishioners, but cannot help feeling that in the death-bed conversations here given, there is little that is either striking or instructive, except the bare contemplation of death and of those sicknesses that flesh is heir to. Perhaps a record equally instructive might be furnished by a majority of our parochial clergy. The religious instruction and consolation addressed by Mr. Mayow is, generally speaking, very slight and obvious; and the replies of his PATIENTS and their friends are such as are every day made in most parishes in the kingdom, by persons of little education, and

FF 4

of

yourself, thought I. You have said more to him than I should have done." We returned to his room. He was still panting for breath. He opened his eyes when he heard us coming into the room. He held out his hand to me-it trembled and shook like a leaf. He did not speak; I put my hand in his-it was as hot as fire. When I looked at the helpless old man, I said to myself, if you were in his situation, Robert, helpless, old, dying, reproved by your friends, and afraid of God, how much would you wish to find any one who would have pity on you, and speak to you with kindness; therefore be you such an one to this old man. So I will, thought I, but do not let me injure him

with my kindness.'

He subsequently falls into conversation with a man a little elevated above the lowest rank. He had been a churchwarden for

fourteen years, and was probably a farmer.

'I asked him if it was long since he went to church? "I have not been able to go to church these two years. I am infirm, and cannot be comfortable when I am there. Besides, I have not a double pew, as I used to have before the church was repaired. If I could have had a double pew, I should not have minded it so much." Infirmity, said I, is a good reason for not going to church; but, thought the double pew seems not so much in point. It is a sad thing that people should forsake their church because they do not like some alteration in the pews, or some raising of the tithes; they are injured, they think, and they therefore punish themselves; they are offended, and therefore they offend their Maker; as if a man were to beat his horse, because another had beaten it; as if a man were to bite himself, because he had been bitten by a cur.'

Some observations follow on the propriety of raising tithes. In a tract on Covetousness, which is given in the Common-Place Book, his principal character, to illustrate the evils of covetousness, is that of a clergyman, who raised his tithes, which had not been raised a hundred years. We cannot think that a clergyman is to be held up to public dislike, because he endeavours, in a peaceable manner, to obtain-not the utmost that he is entitled to-but something approaching to that income which is allotted to him by the laws of the land. The claims of his own family, or those of the poorer and more deserving of his parishioners, may make him feel that it is not absolutely necessary that he should leave a large portion of that to which he has a legal claim, in the hands of men who have no right to it, and who will not thank him for it. The concluding part of the volume consists of prayers; some of which, for fervent piety, and simplicity of expression, are among the best that we are acquainted with. His intercession for the several members of his family show the strength of his domestic attachments; and the general turn of his supplications for himself evince his genuine humility.

We

We make no apology for the length of this Article, as we confidently trust that those of our readers to whom he was before a stranger, will thank us for making them acquainted with this warmhearted, benevolent, indefatigable, and pious man. With some little allowance, perhaps, for defect of judgment, there are few parts of his character, or of his writings, which may not be contemplated with advantage; few, which do not say to us, GO AND

DO THOU LIKEWISE.

ART. IX.-Account of an Assemblage of Fossil Teeth and Bones of Elephant, Rhinoceros, Hippopotamus, Bear, Tiger, and Hyena, and Sixteen other Animals, discovered in a Cave at Kirkdale, Yorkshire, in the year 1821: with a comparative view of Five similar Caverns in various parts of England, and others on the Continent. By the Rev. W. Buckland, F. R. S. Professor of Mineralogy and Geology in the University of Oxford, &c. Philosophical Transactions for 1822. Part I.

London.

TH

HE science of Geology is, like its name, new. A term more expressive of its object might perhaps have been selected, and one whose literal import would have clashed less with the business of Geography. The two subjects, however, are wholly distinct; the one confining itself to the various relations of the surface, while the other is employed in exploring the component parts of the crust, of the earth. To this crust or coating of the globe, must human researches be confined; for, as the highest mountains, in their relation to the whole earth, are no more than the inequalities on the peal of an orange, so the lowest valleys, and the deepest shafts of the miner, are but as scratches and punctures on its surface. Yet, circumscribed as all human efforts are, in the attempt to dig into the bowels of the earth, the philosopher has been able to draw, from the little that is permitted him, a series of most important and interesting facts, which, by a systematic arrangement, have served to throw much light on the history of the planet we inhabit; more indeed, within a very few years past, than the most brilliant imagination had, in preceding ages, been able to discover. Confining itself thus, Geology pretends not to penetrate into the causes that produced the various revolutions which the earth has obviously undergone. It inquires not whether it was created, according to the notions of one visionary, from the atoms or atmosphere of one comet, and deluged by the tail of another; whether it be an extinguished sun which gradually condensed in cooling; a small portion of the present sun struck off by a comet, as Buffon imagined; or, as another Frenchman of a more lively imagination