niche and corner to respond to the voice of its once welcome Inhabitant and Lord. There only wants, on the one hand, his illuminating and constraining Spirit; and on the other, those external aids, which our condition absolutely requires. What those aids are, is the subject of our present inquiry. They are to direct more than to create; to lead into right channels, rather than to call into existence; to conduct to the true God, him that is already disposed to worship, They must be made carefully, therefore, to harmonise with the true idea of God, to embody, as far as possible, his character; and illustrate, not obscure, the spirituality of his nature; but they must not suppose man to have lost his religious nature and appetites, and to be ignorant of his duty to worship. At the same time, they must be such as are adapted to direct his instinct aright. His soul will be prompt to answer to the first call to worship, and until required to offer the worship of a spiritual mind to the true God, will appear admirably earnest and devout; but, then, it will suddenly fail. There is nothing wild, nothing enthusiastic, nothing superstitious, to which you may not lead it on, as long as its gods are no gods. But it is reluctant to pursue its fellowship with the Lord Jehovah, and to present the pure, simple, spiritual service of the Gospel of Jesus Christ; and requires to be perpetually urged and stimulated to turn its instinct towards the throne of grace, and bring its homage there. Our modes and forms of worship, then, must offer no slight to man's religious instincts; they must be recognised, though not suffered to run wild; and encouraged, though it may be necessary to enlighten and curb them. A frigid devotion is not less to be shunned, than a sickly, sentimental, fanatical piety. To a healthy religion, the freedom of man's nature must be preserved; and that licentiousness only, to which its moral disorders render it prone, restrained. If, then, the fact, that man is disposed to worship, would seem to require only the simplest and most naked forms of religion; the other fact must come into the account, that no sooner does he attempt to bring a pure and scriptural offering, than, through the great corruption of his heart, he requires to be urged and stimulated in every possible way; and no question is more important, than, What are those modes and forms of worship that have this tendency, this adaptation? How is that scheme to be hit upon, that exactly meets the case?

But we have not space left for the full discussion of these questions, the consideration of which we propose to resume in another paper.

THE WHITEFIELD PAPERS.

THE Editor has in his possession a large collection of unpublished letters that passed between the Rev. George Whitefield and his friends. These have been examined by a gentleman intimately acquainted with the parties and the period, who has obligingly furnished a number of biographical and other notes, which greatly enhance the interest and value of the series. They will be published from time to time in this magazine, which has already supplied to the public a very considerable number of such documents, which are the materials of history.

No. I. JOHN HUTCHINGS OF WOOLMINSTONE, TO THE
REV. GEORGE WHITEFIELD.

The following letter is only signed with initials, but there is good reason to ascribe it to John Hutchings of Woolminstone, near Crewkerne, Somersetshire. He is mentioned in Wesley's Journal, (page 39,) as of Pembroke College, Oxford, and as present at the love-feast for the opening of the new year, 1739, with the Fetter Lane Society. In the month of February following, he was with Mr. Whitefield at Dummer, in Hampshire, visiting from house to house, when the latter. was taken suddenly and seriously ill. There subsisted a close friendship between them, and Mr. Whitefield records in his journal, in reference to that attack of sickness, "that it would have melted any one down to see on this occasion my dear friends, especially my dearest Mr. H., weeping and praying around me." The next month, Mr. H. was at Bristol, supplying the place of his "dear brother Whitefield." He seems to have adopted the Moravian stillness, and occasionally to have officiated at Dummer, and taken care of the Society at Basingstoke. Wesley's Journal, p. 210. Life of Wesley, p. 54. Whitefield's Journal, pp. 141, 142, 162. MS. Account, &c. Oxford, 1737.

DEAR MR. WHITFIELD,-I thank you for your last. It was a free-will offering, and so deserves to be more particularly gratefully acknowledged. The wondrous deeds God has wrought by your hand, surprise me exceedingly; but alas! little do they gladden me, so weak is my faith, so carnal are my joys, they often cast me into a deep muse, and make me to say within myself, ToTANÓS ČσTI OÛTOS.* Oh, when will such glad tidings kindle me into a joyous and exulting spirit, and cause me to cry out 'Noavvà èv Toîs výlσTois?† Go on, thou soldier of Jesus Christ, fight his battles, know the captivity of his children, re-establish his kingdom on earth, and the hand of the Lord Omnipotent be with thee ever more and more. I was wondering, no longer ago than Sunday last, how the first servants of Christ were so lowly in their own eyes, when they made so remarkable a figure in the world. To be able to work all manner of miracles, to be perfect masters of every language under heaven, and all such other extraordinary accomplishments, must set them a prodigious height above the common pitch of mankind. Such wondrous persons must be universally talked of; and though many were prejudiced against the doctrine, yet surely none could forbear admiring their endowments; yet, in the midst of such very high and

exalted excellences, what a mean opinion do they maintain of themselves! as very objects, yea, as worms, and no men. This seemed to me the most admirable part of their character; and I wondered, (as I should,) how they could exercise it? And who could imitate it? But when I remember, (as I always should,) an ever-living and all-powerful God, then understood I the cause of this mystery. I perceived it was ever He that kept them from being high-minded, and that it was as easy for the Almighty to clothe them with humility, as to gird them about with strength. Then thought I, and now at least with some little satisfaction, dear Mr. Whitfield will be safe from fear of evil; yea, that greatest of afflictions, pride; for since God can give the contrary temper, and since prayer may obtain it, his own and the prayers of his friends will certainly prevail. This consideration also gave me some hopes of having my haughty and lofty imaginations battered down; for once and twice have I heard that power, infinite and resistless, belongeth to God. He can make his sword to approach the great leviathan, and pierce the scales of the otherwise impenetrable monster. I own it is a harder task to rip up my stubborn pride, and crush it as a bubble; but still, 'tis possible to the great Jehovah. Stretch forth, then, most gracious Lord, thy strong and mighty arm, for I am daily harassed by this bitter enemy, and I long to see it in the dust. I know you will say Amen and I beg of you to renew it, as the widow did her importunate suit. You tell me pleasing and excellent news indeed concerning Mr. Morgan. What! leave his native country, forsake his worthy friends, relinquish the views of considerable preferment; and all in the prime of life and the very bloom of youth! Oh for a resolution as stedfast and immoveable as the desire is good and glorious! And I shall not doubt to pronounce Morgan one of the happiest of names. What a generous disdain of worldly things! What a noble contempt of plenteous riches and honour will such a distinguished conduct argue! To what fervour of spirit, what courageous zeal for God, and compassionate love of souls, is it likely to lead! If Mr. Morgan had an ambition that aspired to an equality with angels, I cannot imagine a more effectual way to gratify it than that he is inclined to take. For what nearer approach can a mortal make to the worth of heavenly beings, than to devote so entirely and without any reserve, the flower of his age to the furtherance of the Gospel, and to carry the knowledge of a great and everlasting salvation to the wretched sons of ignorance and error? This has ever been the employ of the favourites of heaven. Inquire all along from the beginning of Christianity, whether they have not been choice and precious souls, men greatly beloved, to whom this office was assigned. So that, though carnal people and people that love not truth may charge our brother with folly, or revive against him the calumny that was cast upon the irreproachable Jesus, “He is beside himself," yet if I do not greatly mistake the meaning of Scripture, there is a day coming when his wisdom shall be made clear as the light, and his sound judgment as the noon-day: for if he adheres to his intention with a firm purpose of mind, if afterwards he exerts himself manfully in executing it, without fear of contempt or desire of applause, aiming singly and with an undivided eye at the glory of our Divine Master, if that be his procedure, ah! Mr. Whitfield, whatever I and the lukewarm world may wish for now, there will be a time we shall be glad to change conditions with Mr. Morgan, I mean when we are a-going to take an eternal farewell of all things under the sun, or when the archangel's trump shall raise us from the dust in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, when we shall be made to stand in the sight of the universal assembly, and arraigned at the awful bar of Omnipotence, and expect every instant to hear the decisive, irreversible sentence! When you write to Mr. Morgan or see him, I beg my name may be mentioned, and my best service presented to him. Pray tell him that obscure and unknown as I am, I shall henceforth remember him in my prayers, and would be glad if he would vouchsafe me the same kindness. I shall pray that he may never recede from, but prosecute his

enterprise in spite of all solicitations to the contrary, because I verily believe that, according to the tenor of God's most gracious promise, this will procure for him grace and understanding, and every good gift an hundred fold in this life, and rank him with the first servants of Christ in the life to come, and number him with the saints in glory everlasting. Tell Mr. Kitchen that when I was last at Woodmee, I happened to reprove one for swearing, and that pretty sharply; one of Mr. Leff's lads. The boy is about seventeen, and was most notoriously addicted to profane and blasphemous language. That very day he overheard me giving some good advice to one of his fellow-servants, and he made the arrantest mockery of it imaginable. His name is Griffith Williams; perhaps Mr. Kitchen may have heard of him, for he was a famous or rather an infamous bravado in sin. My reproof, far beyond my expectation, pierced him like a sword, nor did it only touch him to the quick for the present, but it stuck fast as a nail in a sure place. From that time forward he left off his horrible speeches, and became remarkably serious. Last Sunday he came to see me, and seemed affected with what I said, and fully resolved to save his soul. The poor boy is now become the jest of his fellow-servants, even as he was used to ridicule any that feared an oath. I desire to be truly thankful to God for his change and mighty goodness. I beg of you and dear Mr. Kitchen to implore his infinite Majesty to perfect it. The lad has more than ordinary parts, and am told is exceedingly sharp and witty. Now, if such a reprobate be reclaimed, one so young be made a thorough convert to holiness, and that too with the advantage of a ready capacity, who knows what glory may accrue to God, what good to men thereby? Pray therefore that the Almighty fiat may be set as a seal to the desirable work. I have advised him to learn to read. Mr. Kitchen's sisters teach him, and he promises to be very diligent in it. I promised you a guinea towards your American expedition; the word is gone out of my mouth, and ought I not to fulfil it, even though it were to my own harm? At present I have but about seven shillings more than a guinea, and two of the seven must be expended on somewhat necessary within a day or two; nay, now I recollect, I owe for two bushels of malt; and, besides all this, it is a long time before my payday will come. Now, my dear friend, what would you have me do? You see my stock of money is small, and (woe is me !) my stock of faith is less, if it be any at all; would you that I be true to my promise, and cast myself on the Providence that feedeth the ravens ? Speak, dear Sir; I will pray that you may direct me right. I am determined to do what you advise. 'Tis now striking twelve, I must therefore bid you good night, and retire to rest, least I oversleep at prayer time in the morning; but don't tell my kind rector of this. He charged me to be in bed before this time; nay, but on such an extraordinary occasion he would surely excuse me. I am taking leave of one of my best and dearest friends, a very Jonathan, whose love to me has been wonderful, passing that of women. I am giving the parting kiss to one who has been very pleasant to me, and whom I shall see no more till we meet in the region of departed spirits; and, what is most moving, 'tis a question whether I shall not be there shut out from his company, and not permitted to embrace him in my polluted arms. This is so cutting a consideration that my heart, though flinty, cannot resist; and, indeed, my watery eyes bear witness that my heart is wounded within me. May the wound grow deeper and deeper, and wider, that I may feel how bitter a thing it will be to be separated from God and his saints! May this goad me on to true repentance, that I may not everlastingly be debarred from the dwellings of the righteous, but may see the felicity of thy chosen, O merciful God, and rejoice with the gladness of thine elect. Amen.

Dear Sir, your affectionate friend,

J. H.

REVIEWS.

1. Chronica Jocelini De Brakelonda, de rebus gestis Samsonis Abbatis Monasterii Sancti Edmundi. Nunc primum typis mandata curante Johanne Gage Rokewode. 4to. pp. 172. Londini: Sumptibus Societatis Camdenensis.

MDCCCXL.

2. Monastic and Social Life in the Twelfth Century, as exemplified in the Chronicles of Jocelin of Brakelond, Monk of St. Edmond's Bury, from A.D. MCLXXIII. to MCCII. Translated with Notes, Introduction, &c., by T. E. Tomlins, Esq., from the original Latin as printed by the Camden Society, under the superintendence of John Gage Rokewood, Esq. F.R.S., &c. Medium 8vo. pp. xii. 52. London: Whittaker and Co. 1844.

3. Three Chapters of Letters relating to the Suppression of Monasteries. Edited from the Originals in the British Museum, by Thomas Wright, Esq. M.A., F.S.A., &c. 4to. pp. 304. London: Camden Society. 1843.

It has been recently observed with great force and truth, that "there seems to be a capricious power abroad, which is transmuting every thing into some curious gothic or primitive type. In art, in poetry, in philosophy, in history, we are pursued by the forms and thoughts, by the romance, the religion, the morality of the middle ages."

We have not leisure to trace the causes which have produced this "mediæval epidemic;" but assuredly it is the duty of all true-hearted Protestants to check its progress, and to abate the severity of the attack where it already prevails.

Multitudes in this country delight to contemplate the glorious remains of monastic architecture as seen in such ruins as Netley or Fountain, Glastonbury or Tintern, and, moved by peaceful scenes and hallowed associations, are ready to say with Sir Walter Scott:

"Here, have I thought, 'twere sweet to dwell,

And rear again the chaplain's cell,

Like that same peaceful hermitage

Where Milton longed to spend his age."

This sensibility and taste have been wrought upon by pseudo-historians and novelists, who describe these foundations as having been the asylums of learning, the homes of charity, and the sanctuaries of religion; whereas, to use the energetic language of John Foster, "the proud piles