THE DARKNESS AT OUR SAVIOUR'S CRUCIFIXION SUPERNATURAL. it stood amidst the breakers, like an angel with a bright countenance, warning us away from destruction. Though weary and drenched to the skin, the novelty of our situation, and the interest it excited, made me ample amends for its inconvenience. At about one o'clock in the morning we arrived at Dieppe. THE DARKNESS AT OUR SAVIOUR'S CRUCIFIXION SUPERNATURAL. FROM the account given of the nature of eclipses, it plainly appears that the sun can never be eclipsed in a natural way, but at the time of new moon; nor the moon, but when she is full; and that when the sun is totally eclipsed, the darkness can never continue above five minutes at any place of the earth. But the three Evangelists, St. Matthew, St. Mark, and St. Luke, mention a darkness that continued three hours at the time of our Saviour's crucifixion. If their account of that darkness had been false, it would have been contradicted by many who were then present, especially as they were great enemies both to Christ and his few disciples, as well as to the doctrine he taught. But as none of the Jews have contradicted the Evangelist's account of this most extraordinary phenomenon, it is plain that their account of it is true. Besides, the Evangelists must have known full well that it could not be their interest to palm a palpable falsehood upon mankind, which, when detected, must have gone a great way towards destroying the credibility of all the rest of the account they gave of the life, actions, and doctrine of their Master; and instead of forwarding the belief of Christianity, it would have been a blow at the very root thereof. We do not find that they have bestowed any panegyric on the life and actions of Christ, or thrown out an invective against his cruel persecutors, but in the most plain, simple, and artless manner, have told us what their senses convinced them were matters of fact; so that we have as good reason to believe that there was such darkness, as we have to believe that Christ was then upon earth; and that he was, has never been contradicted even by the Jews themselves. But there are other accounts of Christ besides those which the Evangelists have left us. It is expressly affirmed by the Roman historians, Tacitus and Suetonius, 277 that there was a general expectation spread all over the eastern nations, that out of Judea should arise a person who should be governor of the world. That there lived in Judea, at the time to which the Gospels relate, such a person as Jesus of Nazareth, is acknowledged by all authors, both Jewish and Pagan, who have written since that time. The star that appeared at his birth, and the journey of the Chaldean wise men, is mentioned by Chalcidius the Platonist. Herod's causing the children in Bethlehem to be slain, and a reflection upon him, on that occasion, by the Emperor Augustus, is related by Macrobius. Many of the miracles that Jesus wrought, particularly his healing the lame, and curing the blind, and casting out devils, are owned by those inveterate and implacable enemies of Christianity, Celsus and Julian, and the authors of the Jewish Talmud. That the power of the heathen gods ceased, after the coming of Christ, is acknowledged by Porphyry, who attributed it to their being angry at the setting up of the Christian religion, which he calls impious and profane. The crucifixion of Christ, under Pontius Pilate, is related by Tacitus, and the earthquake and miraculous darkness attending it, were recorded in the public Roman registers, commonly appealed to by the first Christian writers, as what could not be denied by the adversaries themselves; and are, in a particular manner, attested by Phlegon, the freed man of Adrian. Some people have said that the abovementioned darkness might have been occasioned by a natural eclipse of the sun, and, consequently, that there was nothing miraculous in it. If this had been the case, it is plain that our Saviour must have been crucified at the time of new moon. But, then, in a natural way, the darkness could not possibly have continued for more than five minutes; whereas, to have made it continue for three hours, the moon's motion in her orbit must have been stopped for three hours, and the earth's motion on its axis must have been stopped as long too. And then, if the power of gravitation had not been suspended during all that time, the moon would have fallen a great way towards the earth. So that nothing less than a triple miracle must have been wrought to have caused such a long continued darkness by the interposition of the moon between the sun and any part of the earth, which shows that they who make such a supposition are entirely ignorant of the nature of eclipses. But there could be no natural or regular eclipse of the sun on the day of Christ's crucifixion, as the moon was full on that day, and consequently in the side of the heavens opposite to the sun. And, therefore, the darkness at the time of his crucifixion was quite supernatural. The Israelites reckoned their months by the course of the moon, and their years (after they left Egypt) by the revolution of the sun, computed from the equal day and night in spring to the like time again. For we find they were told by the Almighty, (Exod. xii. 2,) that the month Abib, or Nisan, should be to them the first month of the year. This was the month in which they were delivered from their Egyptian bondage, and includes part of March, and part of April, in our way of reckoning. In several places of the Old Testament, we find that the Israelites were strictly commanded to kill the paschal lamb in the evening (or, as it is in the Hebrew, between the evenings) of the fourteenth day of the first month; and Josephus expressly says, "The passover was kept on the fourteenth day of the month Nisan, according to the moon, when the sun was in Aries." And the sun always enters the sign Aries when the day and night are equal in the spring season. They began each month on the first day of the moon's being visible, which could not be in less than twentyfour hours after the time of her change; and the moon is full on the fifteenth day, reckoned from the time of change. Hence, the fourteenth day of the month, - according to the Israelites' way of reckoning, was the day of full moon; which makes it plain that the passover was always kept on a full moon day, and at the time of the full moon next after the equal day and night in the spring, or when the sun was in Aries. All the four Evangelists assure us that our Saviour was crucified at the time of the passover; and hence it is plain that the crucifixion was at the time of full moon, when it was impossible that the moon could hide the sun from any part of the earth. St. John tells us, that Christ was crucified on the day that the passover was to be eaten; and we likewise find that some remonstrated against his being crucified "on the feast day, lest it should cause an uproar among the people."-Ferguson. THE OLD RAPIER. But who can call the dead to life, HE who keeps his eyes and his ears open, as he passes through the world, is sure to see and to hear strange things in the course of his pilgrimage; and if, in addition to this habitual watchfulness, he have the habit of quietly observing and reflecting on the common, every-day circumstances of life, he is sure to turn to account much that another altogether disregards. If it should be suspected that in the foregoing remark I have had a reference to my own character, I must at once plead guilty to the charge. I am accustomed, habitually, if not naturally, to cast a glance about me, and to extract what interest I can from the surrounding scene. The other day, having called on a friend, I was left alone for a season, he being unavoidably absent; thus left to my own speculations, I amused myself in examining, with some attention, an old rapier, which hung up in a corner of the apartment, suspended from a brass nail. Being on terms of intimacy with my friend, and knowing that the rapier must have recently come into his possession, I took it down from its hanging-place, and drew it from its scabbard. It was evidently an old weapon, and Time, with his rusty fingers, had handled it roughly; still, however, it retained undeniable proofs of its former splendour, and I doubted not that it was originally intended to adorn the thigh of a gentleman. The triangular tapering blade was partially bright, and of excellent workmanship. About a foot from the point was a reddish streak, which told a tale of strife. No doubt the sanguinary stain had been carefully preserved; it was incrusted on the polished steel. The hilt was almost black, but here and there it glittered, and a closer inspection told me that it had once been thickly gilt. The lower part of the blade was highly ornamented with gilt figures of Faith, Hope, and Charity. As my friend came not, I stood with the old rapier in one hand, and the scabbard in the other, speculating with some interest on the past. First, I thought of the old rapier's original possessor; who could he be? Perhaps he was one of "gentle blood," with rank impressed upon his brow; or, an old | English gentleman; or, a duellist, "sudden and quick in quarrel." Then the different characters through whose hands the rapier must have passed. Who were they? A motley group presented themselves to my fancy. The mustachoed soldier, admiring the temper of the blade; the showy coxcomb, prizing highly the ornamented hilt; the antiquary, enamoured with the ancient rust and incrusted stain; and my friend who had, most likely, purchased it at some broker's door as a defence against the midnight plunderer. At last I came to the gilded figures of Faith, Hope, and Charity. What mysterious affinity could possibly exist between them and so deadly a weapon? What had Faith, Hope, and Charity, to do with a rapier? I looked on the figure of Faith standing erect, and holding up a cross. ANT-HILLS AND THE AARDVARK.* THESE ant-hills, says Steedman, were constructed of an elliptical figure, to the height of three or four feet above the surface of the ground; and such was their extraordinary number, that they extended over the plain as far as the eye could reach. So near, too, were they together, that in some places our wagon could with difficulty pass between them. "Wherever ant-hills abound, the aardvark (or earth-hog) is sure to be found at no great distance. This animal constructs a deep burrow in the immediate vicinity of its food, and changes its residence only after it has exhausted its resources. The Was the blade to be drawn in defence of the Christian faith? The weapons of the Christian warfare, though "mighty through God to the pulling down of strongholds," are neither swords nor spears, nor weapons of war. The sword of the Spirit is a lawful Christian weapon; but as to sharp-pointed and sharp-facility with which it burrows beneath edged swords of tempered steel, they are unlawful weapons in the cause of Christianity. "They that take the sword," in this sense, "shall perish with the sword." I was puzzled. I looked on the figure of Hope, leaning on an anchor. The wielder of the rapier might have some hope of escaping the point of his enemy, and of obtaining a victory, but surely the hope set before him was not the hope of the gospel, which is "as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast, and which entereth into that within the veil." I was puzzled still more. the surface of the earth is scarcely conceivable. Its feet and claws are admirably adapted to this purpose; to dig it out is almost impracticable, as in a few minutes it can bury itself far beyond the reach of its pursuers; even when found, its strength is so great as to require the united efforts of two or three men to drag it from its hole. When fairly caught, however, it is by no means retentive of life, but is easily despatched by a slight blow over the snout. The aardvark is an extremely timid, harmless animal, seldom removes to any great distance from its burrow, being slow of foot, a I looked on the figure of Charity, with bad runner, and is never by any chance her babes around her. Could it be that found abroad during the daytime. On Christian charity required the use of the the approach of night, it sallies forth in rapier? Assuredly not; for charity "suf- search of food, and repairing to the fereth long, and is kind;" "charity is nearest inhabited ant-hill, scratches a hole not easily provoked;" but, on the conat the side of it just sufficient to admit its trary, "beareth all things, believeth all taper snout. Here, having previously things, hopeth all things, and endureth ascertained that there is no danger of all things.' The rapier might make wi-interruption, it lies down, and inserting dows and orphans, but was hardly likely its long slender tongue into the breach, to dry the tears of the one, or to make entraps the ants, which, like those of our the other sing for joy. I was more own country, upon the first alarm, fly to puzzled than ever. By the time I had sheathed the old rapier, and hung it up in its customary * See page 153, of "Weekly Visitor," for 1835, for a description and an engraving of this animal and the ant-hills. and tumult of the world; that a prison is a sort of horror, and that few persons can bear the punishment of being confined to FAITH AND LOVE DISTINGUISHED AND COMPARED. defend their dwellings, and mounting IGNORANCE AND ERROR. It is almost as difficult to make a man unlearn his errors as his knowledge. THE PAIN OF THINKING. WHENCE Comes it to pass that men are transported to such a degree with gaming, hunting, or other diversions, which seem to have taken an absolute possession of their souls ? It is not because there is any real or intrinsic good to be obtained by these pursuits; it is not because they imagine that true happiness is to be found in the money which they win at play, or in the capture of the beast which they run down in the chase; for should you present them beforehand with both these to save their trouble, they would be unanimous in rejecting the proposal. It is not the gentle and easy part which they are fond of, such as may afford them leisure and space for thought; but it is the heat, and the bustle, and the hurry which divert them from the mortification of thinking. On this account it is that men are so much in love with the noise FAITH and LOVE have respectively the preference of each other. In respect of spiritual life, faith is the most necessary, and love has a necessary dependence upon it; otherwise, to love is more than to believe, because it necessarily implies or includes belief; just as, to taste meat, is of more use than to love it. If we look to influence, love is more excellent than faith, as it extends every way to God and men; it being that by which all the gifts of God which he bestows upon us are made profitable to other men. On the other hand, if we regard man privately in himself, and as relates to his own individual interest, faith is more excellent than charity or love, it being that whereby we become united to Christ, and in which consists our fellowship and communion with him; it is that by which Christ dwells in our hearts, and we receive the promised Spirit; it is that into which, as a hand, God puts all the riches of his grace for our salvation, and by which all the fruits of the Spirit are quickened. By faith we feed upon Christ for the strengthening and nourishment of the soul, and whatsoever is in us is commended unto God. But in regard to duration or permanence, love is to be preferred before faith. For, faith is only for a time; and when the promise of God, which is the matter and subject of it, shall be fully accomplished, the use of it shall cease. When faith passeth into vision or open knowledge, and revealed sight of the thing present, it changes both its nature and kind. But "love never fails," it abides for ever, and shall continue as an everlasting bond betwixt God and us. No doubt it will be greater and more vehement, but it shall still retain the same nature and substance, though some works on which it now exercises itself shall cease. The end of our faith is charity; but the foundation and director of love is faith. Faith also is the victory whereby we overcome the world. Till faith have perfected our salvation, love must yield to it; but having landed us safely over Jordan's streams, love shall continue and abide for ever.-Ball. Interior of Westminster Abbey during the Coronation of her Majesty Queen Victoria. CROWNS AND CORONATIONS. THE event which has recently occurred, has realized public expectation, and proved to be of extraordinary interest. The investiture of our youthful sovereign with the royal crown of so extensive and exalted an empire, forcibly appeals to the mind and the heart; and may suggest a few remarks adapted to the occasion. If we refer to the remote periods of antiquity, the crown was then rather an idolatrous than a civil ornament. According to Pliny, it was first used by Bacchus. It appears from medals still extant, to have been originally a bandaAUGUST, 1838. let, drawn round the head, and tied behind, and then to have been formed of two bandalets; afterwards the woods and groves were searched for crowns to be worn by the various deities of the heathen; and at length, it is stated, that they were made of all known plants. We read particularly of one of laurel; of another formed from the vine; of a third, in which the branches of that tree were blended with its leaves, grapes, ivy, flowers, and berries; while the pine, the olive, the alder, and the myrtle, together with roses, ears of corn, bulrushes, and rosemary, were as freely employed: |