that the unfortunate preacher has reluctantly left his own pulpit, in obedience to solicitations which it seemed ungracious to resist. Certainly it is not easy to act in such cases. But he could not bring his flock with him. Therefore they remain behind, to be fed by some casual stranger, or not fed at all. For my own part, I seldom wit ness a country-preacher exhibiting on such occasions in a London pulpit, but I am ready to say "in spite of scorn," "Why camest thou down hither? and with whom hast thou left those few sheep in the wilderness?" And I am afraid the question would not always be met by so good an answer as it once received. This, however, is not the subject on which I particularly meant to address you at present. I wish ra ther to direct your attention to what I shall take the liberty of calling charity feasts. You well know, sir, that charity-feasts were usual among the primitive Christians. But the modern sort are quite on an improved plan, suitable to the taste and genius of these polished un-primitive times. They are anniversary subscription-feasts, cele, brated in honour of some charitable institution, and followed (at a conpenient interval after dinner) by a collection. Nothing was ever better contrived. Persons of high distinction are invited to attend, and of course cannot refuse. And there are sumptuous dishes, and choice wines, and emblematic devices, many and rare, And there are singers, and drummers, and bassoon-players, and clarionet-players, and cymbal-players, and I wish there may not be a bag-piper. And there are speeches, and shouts, and cheers. And there are toasts, and bumpers, and sentiments, and threetimes-three, and three-times-nine, till the more part of the company know not which is which, or what is the product of either. Amidst all this flow of soul, the charity is applauded, and the benefactors are applauded, and the visitors are ap plauded. So the plate, when hand. The plan is surely most inge nious; and you will perceive in it, sir, one advantage which extends far beyond the fleeting occasion of the particular banquet: I mean, that it creates in the minds of the more tasteful persons who attend, associations of the most pleasing kind in favour of charity. I have been told that the method of breaking in a war-charger to the sound of fire-arms, is by letting off a pistol in the stable whenever be has his feed of corn. The gene rous animal at length listens to the report of a gun with the same feel ings with which his warlike rider hears the fifer play "the Roast Beef of Old England." In like manner, the partakers of a charity. feast learn to associate (and, to the luxurious, it is no necessary asso ciation) the ideas of feeding the hungry and a good dinner. In their minds, philanthropy and festivity, tears and turtle, always go together. A collection invariably reminds them of a collation, and the London Dispensary of the Lon don Tavern. How potent such associations would be with some people, I need not say. And yet certain precise persons might contend that all this is a strange way of exciting benevolence. They might argue that this excitation of feeling by feasting, this promotion of good works by good cheer, is not exactly the clearest mode of compassing a pure end; and that we had better be content to see the ardour of charity a little less vivid, than mix it with unhallowed fire. I am not so cy nical or so preposterous, as to exclude feeling from offices of phi lanthropy, Principle is to be the guide, the tutor, the regulator; but feeling has been graciously infused into our bosoms, as the ever prompt and tender agent. I only ask that this feeling shall be that which is inspired by nature, not by "wind and wassel;" that it shall be warmth of heart, not heat of head. Besides, is it no objection' to this system, that the greater part of what is given on the occasion (taking the dinner and the collec tion together) supports any thing but the charity from which the meeting derives its name? It is a new way of feeding the poor, to be gin by feeding the rich. Au annis versary-dinner, unaccompanied by a collection, is, I think, unobjectionable. At least, it may easily be so. The dinner is reasonable, and the after-dinner rational. There is no inducement, none, that is, arising from the occasion, for making it otherwise. But, where the feast is to be the means and the collection the end,-where charity is to be stimulated by eating and drinking, we are almost sure to run into expense and luxury; and, too probably, there will be excess. -- "O, but luxury (it is said) is an admirable thing for the community, Consumption promotes productión, and production supports producers: Artisans, and players, and singers, and men cooks, are thus kept constantly employed." I will not enter into that question; but this much I may venture to say, that there will be quite luxuries enough in the world, without setting our charities to cater for them. If it is really the nature of private vices to produce public benefits, then they may safely be left to pursue their vocation alone: and pray let them not be troubled by the officious assistance of the virtues. But, sir, I have not yet let you into the whole mystery of this policy. A very clever and original part of it is the election of stewards to preside at this same charity-din-. ner; in other words, to pay its: extra expenses; and, as yournray not happen to have seen a speci mem of this kind of election, I will present your with an outline of it. -Be it known, then, that the Go vernors or Directors of the Institution concerned (whatever that be) assemble together to choose the aforesaid stewards. Probably the names are recommended to them by a committee of their own body, who have previously sat on the af fair. The candidates are often (I believe, usually,) selected unasked, from among the persons of any wealth, family, or consideration, who can in the remotest way be brought to bear on the objects of the institution. The poll beginsthe voters are unanimous-and the candidate comes in, without any previous canvass, and by universal consent,-but alas, (as will afterwards appear,) not free of expense. The Secretary then writes, in the name of the Governors, to the hap, py man; informing him, that the Governors of the Institution of the A. B. Infirmary have, by an unanimous vote, appointed him one of the Stewards of their next anniversary dinner; beseeching him to accept of this tribute of respect to his known benevolence and many nameless virtues; subjoining a brilliant catalogue of Most Nobles, Right Honourables, and Senators, who are to be his brother-stewards; entreating him to meet these bro ther-stewards at a previous dinner of arrangement; and inclosing a given number of guinea-tickets (say ten) for the anniversary dinner, to be used by himself or friends, The feelings of a young carp taken in a net are pastime compared to those of the steward-elect when he receives the intimation of this splendid misfortune. For a while he casts about to find some way of escape. Shall he decline pointblank? That would be disgraceful.-Shall he commit the Secretary's letter to the flames, and pretend never to have received it? That would be too bad, and might' be suspected. Shall he plead am engagement in the country? Though true, it might be, thought a fetch. Alas, there is nothing for it but to submit with a good grace.) said worthy persons. The letter I have given him may, perhaps, be called caricature; but does it not shew the real nature of the transaction? I am no apologist for white lies. I had rather have the commodity of untruth plain than paint So down he plants himself at his desk; and, grumbling forth a fervent wish that all the Governors, Directors, and leading members (Secretary included) of the A. B: Infirmary were consigned to one of their own wards, pens some such effusion of gratitude as the followed, if I must have it at all. Our ing. "Sir, Steward's grateful letter is one which persons of strict principle, or (as the advertisements on your blue cover say) persons" whose sentiments are congenial with those of the Christian Observer," would certainly not have written under the same circumstances. But the dilemma, be it observed, arises out of this system of charity feasts. "I have had the honour of receiving your letter, informing me that the Governors of the Institution of the A. B. Infirmary, have been pleased to elect me one of the stewards for their next anniversary dinner. To have been chosen to an office of such proud distinction, by gentlemen so eminently cele-. However, I proceed. And, first brated for benevolence, and that without the most distant suggestion or solicitation on my part, is an honour with which I confess myself extremely elated, and which I find it impossible to decline. I beg to add, that the institution is one in which I have ever felt a warm though hitherto an unsuspected interest, and to which I have frequently meant to contribute my mite; but some accidental circumstance has always prevented me, till now reminded of it in this very flattering and extraordinary manher. I request you will give my warmest thanks to the Governors, for the honour they have so freely conferred on me, and accept the same yourself, for the agreeable and obliging terms in which this most unexpected communication made. "I have the honour to be, &c. &c. was of all, comes that rehearsal or preliminary of misery-the dinuer of the stewards; where all these unfortunate gentlemen meet together, and dine like men who are to sup with their fathers. Here is fixed what is pleasantly termed the order of the day for the grand anniversary. And a much more important order, that of the grand dinner, is here moved, and seconded, and agreed upon. And the brethren in arms become a little acquainted: and they break up-to meet at Philippi. But, as for the fate of our hero at the grand anniversary, it beggars description! Oh the choaking heat, and smoaking tureens, and dinning clatter! Oh the jamming of chairs, and jostling of plates, and "over head the dismal hiss" of delicacies in full conveyance to the upper regions of the table! Oh the rapidly moving waiters that will wait for nothing, and the gorlike bonfires behind the chairs of geous liveries that stand blazing the great! And oh the roaring of Rule Britannia, and that Britons never will be Slaves! to say noBathing again of three times three, which seems as long as thirty times thirty. And oh, above all, the misery of making the agreeable during this scene, perched by white rod of office which he would "P. S. I intend to retain all the ten tickets. Will you confer on me the favour of putting down my name on your list of subscribers for 50 guineas, which I find is the qualification of a governor for life?" Pray, Mr. Observer, mark the postscript. And thus is this poor gentleman, who never harmed any one in his life, taken in by the free (the very free) election of the afore willingly convert into a rod of offence. For you know, sir, what invariably happens on such occasions. The posts of the stewards are fixed beforehand (whether by lot or rank, I know not), and our hero is sure, by some accident or other, to have the noisiest neigh bourhood, the stupidest neighbour, the most popular dish, the worst waiter, the craziest chair, and the whitest and most conspicuous wand in the whole room. And, when the health of the stewards is drank, he is sure to have the returning of thanks in the name of the rest; which he does with his head aching, and likely to ache for a fortnight. Well, indeed, may they be thanked for drinking his health, as this is the only good office they do for it. And now, having made his speech, or at least something that will pass for one with those who have nearly lost their own, and the mighty chairman having retired, and the company thinning 'fast, the much-enduring man ventures at last to desert his white wand, and effects a silent retreat, heartily hoping that his next public dinner may be with the Deaf and Dumb Asylum. But think not the eventful tragedy ends here. There are deficiencies to be made up; and the stewards have to pay ten, twenty, or, perhaps, fifty pounds each. He found himself unable to dispose of more than two or three of his ten tickets, and must take the rest on himself. Here, therefore, are in all near twenty, thirty, or sixty pounds more to be disbursed; and he has the comfort of knowing that his dear delight, the A. B. Infirmary, will profit just as much by the disbursement as the College of Sciences at Pekin. Moralists, sir, desire the rich to consider themselves as stewards for the poor. But as to this literal fulfilment of the injunction, I hope there is no immorality in protest ing against it. Seriously speaking, I do not say that the species of charity-feasts I have described are in such a sense wrong as to make the acceptance of a steward's place at one of them, still less the mere act of attendance, an unlaw ful act. On the whole, I think they are not. But I feel persuaded that they are not things to be encouraged. Indeed, I have ob served with great pleasure, that the directors of some charitable institutions have the manliness, in announcing their anniversary dinner, to declare that there is to be no collection afterwards. I trust this example will be followed; and in the humble hope that even these hints from an obscure individual may aid in producing the desired effect, I make bold to give them the chance of that recommendation which cannot fail to be afforded by an insertion in the pages of the Christian Observer. REVIEW OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. The Restoration of Israel By: R. JOSEPH CROOL, Teacher of the Hebrew Language in the University of Cambridge, &c. › And An Answer, by THOMAS SCOTT, Rector of Aston Sandford, Bucks. London: Seeley. 1814. pp. viii. 104, and 340, 1, THIS most important statement of the whole question between Jews ! K. K. and Christians, has every claim to our consideration. We rejoice in bringing any work before our readers, bearing the venerable name of Thomas Scott; a name deservedly dear to all true lovers of the sacred Scriptures, and of the vital and invaluable truths which they contain; a name associated with a long series, of the soundest, most beneficial, and most disinterested labours in the exposition of those truths; and be longing to one who has now reach ed the close of a long and useful Life, with no other earthly meed, but the humble consciousness of having faithfully served the best of masters, and merited well of a church whose doctrines and discipline he has constantly upheld with scarcely a taste of her emoluments. Such a name we are happy to bring forward in connection with a controversy, doubtless one of the most important which has engaged the Christian world: and should it prove the cycneu vox,the dying note, of this truly great man, which we trust it may not, we shall say much for this publication if we pronounce it worthy to be so; and state it to be inferior neither in matter nor temper to any of the truly Christian productions of his powerful mind, the report of which has already given lustre to our humble pages. The controversy between Jews and Christians is one of great and, we believe, growing import ance. Every year that carries us forward in the present interesting and critical period of religious his tory, seems to bring us nearer to some great and yet unknown event. The calculations of prophecy seem to lead us, almost with one voice, to instant and trembling expecta tion. The state of the world as to religion seems loudly to proclaim, "It is time for thee, Lord, to work;" and some mighty change can scarcely fail of being at hand, when with an exception, perhaps, only favourable to this land, "the Son of man," were he to come, would not "find faith on the earth." Any great religious change at such a crisis, produced by the miraculous agency of Divine Power, we seem warranted by the Divine Re cord in expecting to be brought about through the instrumentality of the Jewish Nation. The fulness of the Gentiles, understanding by that expression, the general pro malgation of the Gospel through the world, we have reason to suppose, will be contemporaneous with the recal of the Jews. And as the period for each may seem to be approaching, how interesting to watch the slightest movement, though but of human agency, towards that de sired consummation! how appro priate to count the steps by which it may be advancing! On the advances which have been made, as well as on the present state of the controversy,as connected with these prospects, we think no inquiring Christian would desire to be wholly uninformed. The review of the work which gives its title to this article will afford us the opportunity of putting our readers in possession of the substance and marrow of the whole question, as it now stands. The The leading points between us and our elder brethren in the family of God, have been of late brought to an important issue by the London Society for promoting Christianity amongst the Jews. present is one of the publications which has issued from their active, and, we may add, learned press. With a judgment honourable to themselves, and peculiarly befitting the enlightened age in which we live, they have undertaken to meet the Hebrew on his own ground, with the weapons of open, fair, and legitimate argument; and, in some instances; in his own language. The many creditable tracts which have issued from time to time under their patronage, shew the range of learning and sound reasoning which they have laid under contribution for their invaluable purpose. And to all the rest they have added that which alone might well have engaged the attention of a society even larger than their own, and which Providence, in the prodigality of his means, might well have raised such an establishment for the single purpose of effecting; they have undertaken a fresh translation of the New Testa a |