act to many a poor gentleman in Ireland, whereby the creditor, who lent in depreciated paper, was enabled to demand the full amount of his nominal debt in gold, and thereby advantage himself to the amount of a full one-third over and above what he

had a just right to demand. We say, then, that to force only a provision for the poor, from the deeply encumbered and, perhaps, under necessity, expatriated landlord, while his creditors, his already unjustly advantaged creditors, would remain exempt, would be, indeed, an act of monstrous injustice, which no legislature could contemplate, without the desire of taking Irish landed property altogether out of the hands of its present owners. No; we deem that a provision for the poor should be raised equally from all sorts of property, and the management of the fund, when raised, should be so arranged that each individual, in proportion to the amount of his contribution, should have more or less votes. As, for instance, we would suppose that the man who paid ten shillings should have one voice; he who contributed a pound, two voices; he who contributed ten pounds, twenty voices, and so on. Thus, if the rich paid, so also would the rich have the direction and control over what they paid: and, in this way, as long as Protestants had the largest share of the property, so long would they enjoy the means of protecting that property; and Doctor Doyle's insidious plan of giving Romish priests the distribution of the poor fund would not be practicable.

For our parts, looking at the prosperous state of England with a poor fund, and the degraded state of Ireland without oneseeing the rich, in one country, obliged, and that confessedly at an extravagant rate, to support the poor; while it is well known that it is the poor that support the poor, and that with a comparatively greater waste and misapplication of their substance, in Ireland-conscious that, in our country, money's worth to an enormous extent is levied from those who are next door to paupers themselves, and that to maintain a vicious, disgusting, crimeand-disease-multiplying mendicancy through the Island-we assert that religion, morality, and common sense, cry aloud for a provision for the poor, to be drawn from the pockets of those who, in the whole community, now pay least, and who just now think they are free from all responsibility, if, on Sunday, they cast a bit of silver into the poor-box, not as the widow's, but the rich man's mite! Oh! how we wish to see those hard-hearted wealthy

those who build a porter's lodge at the entrance of their wellclosed demesnes, to exclude the poor-obliged to pay. Let the political economists say what they will, there must be a compulsory provision for the poor made in Ireland.

On one more topic let us briefly remark, before we close this paper. Agitation is now directed towards a Repeal of the Union, which, as every one must be aware, involves, in the scope of a thorough Papist, the overthrow of the Established Church; the political separation of the two Islands; the upsetting of the property of Protestants acquired by former confiscation, and the

enactment of a tariff against British manufactures; and, though last, not least, the power of the Romish priest to put his hands into the pockets of every man in Ireland. ALL these views are confessedly not now put forth by O'Connell, who is at present endeavouring to gain over the irritated Protestants of the North of Ireland. He would now, with uplifted hands, disavow, to be sure, the greater part of these views. He merely tells those whom he now, for the first time, flatters, in order that he may mould them to his will, that a British Parliament is composed of those who dislike Ireland, or think light of its interests, and that it has neither time nor inclination to do full justice to the wants of this country. Now we are quite sure, that if a plan, lately suggested, of holding the Imperial Parliament in Ireland every third year, was adopted, it would satisfy, not certainly O'Connell and the priests, for agitation is as life and money to them-it is the craft by which they get their living-but every well-thinking Protestant and moderate Roman Catholic in Ireland. The facilities for travelling are so great, and the prospects of still greater facilities so certain, the accommodations in Dublin so ample, that the removal of the Court and Parliament could be effected without much inconvenience; and there can be no doubt but that, after a few sessions held in Ireland, English and Scotch members would acquire such a practical knowledge of the country-of its wants, its capabilities, its partiesin a word, of its good and its evil, that they would not, as they often now vote, as ignorant and prejudiced men, endangering the empire, and injuring a good cause, by absurd and mischievous legislation.

Let us then briefly re-state what are the measures that, in our humble opinion, would prove practically beneficial. In the first place, a firm and really impartial administration of the existing laws, without allowance for any man, or body of men, to offer either active or passive resistance to them. The fearless and unrelenting punishment of culprits offending against the law. The support of the Established Church, and the rendering it more safe and efficient by such a commutation of tithes as may remove its property from any connection or collision with Roman Catholics, and by permitting the Church to adopt such a reform in her polity as may render her more spiritually efficient, and more able and active in instructing the people. By establishing a legal provision for the poor, so guarded and contrived as to avoid the errors and abuses of the English system, and fit it to the political, moral, and religious character of the Irish. And, lastly, to have a triennial session of the Imperial Parliament in Ireland. With steam-boats, railways, and steam-carriages, the transit of court and government would be readily effected, and the accommodation not only of King, Lords, and commons, but all the paraphernalia of a court supplied. We can easily turn the Customhouse into a palace, the Rotunda into a parliament house, and our Castle would serve, pro tempore, for the Horse Guards. In the mean time, from our hearts we say, God send us more good sense, and less agitation.

ON JOHN. xii. 20-28.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE CHRISTIAN EXAMINER.

SIR, I have often wished that some one, competent to the task, would take in hand the Four Gospels, and particularly that of St. John, with the sole view of tracing the connection of the several parts, in each of our Lord's discourses and conversations. In such an endeavour, I should wish it, moreover, to be the leading object, to ascertain, as far as possible, from the circumstances and associations of the moment, what might have been the probable course and natural current of his thoughts, while engaged in speaking. That this examination, closely and diligently pursued, would account, in many instances, for transactions which at first sight appear abrupt, and exhibit a consecutive chain of meaning, where no such chain was discoverable before, is my firm belief. Labour so employed would be doubly rewarded, and be attended with twofold benefit. It would, first of all, tend to illustrate many obscure passages of, confessedly, the most important part of Scripture; and, secondly, it would furnish a new and distinct internal evidence of the truth of Christianity. What I mean by the latter observation is thisIf the doubt be entertained (and, however extravagant, it has been entertained,) whether the Gospel be a forgery, on the one hand, or a genuine history of real facts and persons, on the other, nothing could more effectually serve to prove that it is the latter, than the discovery of such a hidden and under-current of thought, as that to which I allude. In fictitious characters it is evident that no such thing could be traceable. The whole of these characters lies upon the page before us. They are whatever the forger makes them, and nothing more. They have no existence but in the narrative. They are like trees without rootsall is above ground, and there is nothing under, which grapples in visibly with the soil, and intwines itself with other roots and substances beneath the surface. Consequently, if we have any difficulty in comprehending what such characters are made to say, we never can ascertain the meaning by a process of the kind proposed. We might as well dissect a statue to find out the causes of its malformation. It is in reference only to true and living persons that such a mode of elucidation can take place. Hence it follows that in any passages where car Lord's expressions or transitions of thought appear obscure or unaccountable, if light can be thrown, and the links of connection be discovered, by adverting to the engagements and associations of mind which would be natural to one placed at the moment precisely where the evangelists have placed him; in every such instance where you can thus fill up the chasms, or trace the secret chain of the discourse, you have a proof (weaker or stronger, as the case may be, but still proof of a nature capable of rising to demonstration,) that Jesus was not a fictitious but a genuine character;

nay, more, that he was "indeed the Christ, the Saviour of the world." Such a passive cross-examination, if I might so call it, may yet bring forth internal evidence, so manifestly out of the reach or possible contemplation of all forgery, and at the same time so bright, and so overwhelming, as to convince many, who had withstood every other argument, of the truth of Scripture.

As an ensample of the kind of investigation which I recommend, I will submit to your consideration the following remarks upon a part of the 12th chapter of St. John: a passage which had always appeared to me very obscure, as it respects the connexion of the several parts. It is from the 20th to the 28th verse, inclusive; the whole of which I shall, for convenience sake, transcribe. "20. And there were certain Greeks among them that came up to worship at the feast.

21. The same came therefore to Philip, which was of Bethsaida of Galilee, and desired him, saying, Sir, we would see Jesus.

“22. Philip cometh, and telleth Andrew: and again, Andrew and Philip tell Jesus.

23. And Jesus answered them, saying, The hour is come that the Son of Man should be glorified.

24. Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a corn of wheat falls into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. 25. He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that bateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal.

26. If any man serve me, let him follow me; and where I am, there shall also my servant be: if any man serve me, him will my Father honour. "27. Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour: but for this cause came I unto this hour.

28. Father, glorify thy name. Then came there a voice from heaven, saying, I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again.”

The three first verses give us an account of certain devout Greeks, as is supposed, proselytes of the gate, who came up to Jerusalem, to worship at the feast. These persons having heard of the fame of Jesus, address themselves, as it were, in a body to Philip, and respectfully desire that they be admitted into the Saviour's presence. Philip then communicates the intelligence to Andrew; and the two apostles go both together, and tell Jesus. "And Jesus answered," that is, took occasion from this address to say, "The hour is come, that the Son of Man should be glorified." Now, what appears to be the natural connection between the matter presented to our Saviour's mind, and the deep-toned reflection which it drew from him? These strangers coming from amongst the Gentiles, flocking to his presence, and pressing to his standard, might, I say, have suddenly suggested to his thoughts those glorious days when "the Gentiles should come to his light, and kings to the brightness of his rising." To bring all nations unto God, was the end for which he came into the world. The means by which this great consummation was to be effected, was his own most bitter death and passion. But we know that the expectation of these sufferings sometimes shook our Saviour's human nature to its

centre. And in this view it is evident that, (as if to render his cup of misery complete,) he felt at times the pangs of irresolution, and of doubt; nay, that he was assailed and tantalized by the occasional and fleeting hope that the cross might be averted. That this was one of his severest trials, we may gather from a few remarkable passages of his life. Not to anticipate what we have to observe upon the words before us, we learn it from the horror with which he repelled the suggestion of this thought, when Peter said unto him, "Be it far from thee, Lord: this shall not be unto thee." And when he answered, "Get thee behind me, Satan; thou art an offence unto me: for thou savourest not the things that be of God, but those that be of men." We learn it still more from the inexpressible agony of soul with which he prayed, saying, "O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me.'

The introduction of the Greeks, then, as I said before, naturally suggested to our Saviour's thoughts the glories of the latter days. Nor is it, I conceive, irreverent to suppose that, partaking as he did of the innocent infirmities of man, the momentary hope flashed accross his mind, that this dawn might shine more and more unto the perfect day, unbroken by the dark and dismal night of his atoning sacrifice. But the flattering dream was quickly over, and the truth, in all its terrors, stands before him. The struggle of his soul was between the promising appearances of the moment, and the recollection that no effectual calling of the Gentiles could take place till he had undergone the suffering of death. Such another conflict he seems to have experienced in Luke xii. 49, 50. "I am come to send fire on earth; and what will I, if it be (or rather, O that it were) already kindled. But I have a baptism to be baptized with; and how am I straitened till it be accomplished!" Many a struggle of this nature, but in a dregree proportioned to the low and grovelling interests that engage us, we ourselves may have personally known. To take one instance. Have we at any time been afflicted with bodily disease, and armed ourselves with fortitude to submit to some sharp and painful remedy, as the only lasting and effectual cure? In this interval of suspense, we may have experienced how hard it is to suppress the hope, which every hour of ease or symptom of recovery suggests, that health may yet be restored without the dreaded process; and with what anguish the fond imagi nation is dissipated, and the awakened sense recovered, that the trying moment is still before us, and that we must prepare to meet it. Such in kind, though in dimensions and in intensity far beyond all finite comprehension, was, I conceive, the conflict of our Saviour's mind, when he stifled the risings of his human nature, and welcomed the cross and the glories to which it led: "The hour is come, that the Son of Man should be glorified."

It is deeply interesting, and affecting, to trace in the two verses that follow, how the same profound meditation is pursued, and how the blessed Jesus summons up every motive, and turns