ability to read was confined almost entirely to the ecclesiastical corporations. Old Richard de Bury, Bishop of Durham, wrote a Latin treatise on "The Love of Books," which, in 1344, he put into the hands of the clergy, for whom alone he avowed he had written it. In that work are the following words, showing that he scorned the idea of there being any other class than the clergy able to read. Laymen," says he, "to whom it matters not whether they look at a book turned wrong side upwards, or spread before them in its natural order, are altogether unworthy of any communion with books." Warton, in his "History of English Poetry," gives a copy of one of the statutes of St. Mary's College, Oxford, in the reign of Henry VI., which very plainly suggests the great inconveniences to which students must have been subjected by the scarcity of books. The statute ran as follows:-"Let no scholar occupy a book in the library above one hour, or two hours at the most, so that others may not be hindered from the use of the same." The learned of those days wished to multiply books, but they were restrained and discouraged by the difficulties besetting their course. The only method by which they could increase the volumes was cumbrous, dilatory, and expensive. The Ecclesiastics provided "Scriptorium," or writingrooms in connection with the abbeys, where boys were engaged in copying. The Monks also spent many hours each day in their cells transcribing portions of the Bible.

But

oh! it was a blessed day in 1474, when William Caxton set up his printing press in the Almonry at Westminster, and undertook the combined duties of author, printer, and publisher. From the time he produced his first specimen of English typography, books increased in number and size. Instead of general merchants continuing to be the dealers in literature, bookselling became a distinct branch of business, and certain spots of the metropolis were specially known to the educated because of the book depôts. Roger North, in his life of

Dr. John North, refers to booksellers in the reign of Charles II., and says, "Little Britain was a plentiful and perpetual emporium of learned authors, and men went thither as to a market. This drew a mighty trade, the rather because the shops were spacious, and the learned gladly resorted to them, where they seldom failed to meet with agreeable conversation; and the booksellers themselves were knowing and conversible men, with whom, for the sake of bookish knowledge, the greatest wits were pleased to converse." In the year 1664 no less than 460 pamphlets were published in Little Britain. St. Paul's Churchyard was at that time famous for its book-shops. In Pepys' diary, under date 30th November, 1660, we read, "In Paul's Churchyard I bought the play of Henry IV.;" and again, under date February 10th, 1662, To Paul's Churchyard, and there I met with Dr. Fuller's England's Worthies,' the first time that I ever saw it." Paternoster Row, in those days, was inhabited by mercers, haberdashers, linendrapers, and seamstresses. The elite of London flocked thither to purchase their gay costume. There Pepys tells us that he bought in 1660, "moyre for a morning waistcoat," and in 1662 "satin for a petticoat for his wife." About 1700 things changed. The booksellers removed to "The Row," and since that time that narrow, gloomy, inconvenient street has been the centre of the

publishing trade. Beyond doubt the reader is acquainted with the place. Perhaps he has been there on the day the new magazines are "ready." If not, and his nerves will allow, we respectfully advise him to go on such a morning, as spectator of the prevailing excitement. He will see what would have startled Samuel Pepys and his literary companions out of their steadygoing yet fashionable habits. He will see young men and boys, tall and short, stout and thin, with bags over their shoulders and order books in their hands, hurrying hither and thither to collect the required stock. Let the reader accompany one of the

lads into Messrs. Kent and Co.'s, compress himself into the narrowest compass possible—for he will find it densely crowded-and look and listen. The counter is besieged by a noisy, restless, impatient throng, who are being supplied as quickly as the agile bodies and business tact of the young men behind the counter will allow. As the lads name the publications by abbreviated titles, and call for them in voices by no means musical, the stranger will be often amused. The following is a fair specimen of what we heard the other day:-"I say, let's have two Good Words' and twenty "Truth-seekers.'" "Here, I've been waiting for a dozen Daughters of Mary,' cries another. Where's the British Workman;' have you put in the Sunshine?' Am I to stay here all the blessed week for fifty' Golden Hours?'" "Now then, pack up fifteen Trumpets,' thirty Last Vials,' with sixty Bands of Hope'-look alive!"

This is certainly very unlike what formerly prevailed when there were no printed books, or when the publishing shops were the quiet rendezvous of the literati and bibliomaniacs. But who would prefer the days of old ? Who would, if he could, transfer himself to those times when books were dear and periodicals scarce? Then the people perished from lack of knowledge. To a large extent the words of Thomas Bartholine may be employed, "Justice was dormant, natural science at a stand, philosophy lame, letters dumb, and all things involved in Cimmerian darkness." But now, says the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, "the poor man's son can learn as much at home, as, a hundred years ago, a gentleman would learn by journeying the world over; for while there are some advantages in going into the world, it is the poor man's privilege to have the world come to see him."

Over the prevalence of reading habits every well-wisher of society cannot but rejoice. Therein we have unmistakable evidence of social progress. He who reads good books will find the sphere of his sym

pathies enlarged, the faculties of the mind elevated, the delusion of the senses dwarfed, the entire nature refined, and himself elevated in the scale of being. Hence we desire to see an abundance of wholesome mental pabulum. We wish the multitudes, who hunger for knowledge with avidity enough to devour any kind of work that comes within their reach, to have a plenary supply of that which is salutary. It cannot be concealed that much which issues from the press is fit only for the flames. Now and then a person is summoned before a magistrate and fined, for giving to the public meat in an unfit state for consumption. If a similar supervision were exercised in the book-market, what a surprising clearance would take place! Works are sold which lower the standard of virtue, diminish the love of truth, corrupt the imagination, develope the basest passions of the heart, and unfit for the daily duties of the life calling. The

greater, therefore, is the claim on us to furnish pure literature with an unsparing hand-to dispel the darkness by a plenitude of lightto stay the pestilential effect of that which is impure by a copious shower of unadulterated truth. We wish men to drink of the purest fountains; to commune with the best company; to enjoy intercourse with superior minds; and become heirs of the priceless fruits of their diligent research and painful experience. We want men to be constantly surrounded by "the masters that instruct without rods and feruleswithout hard words and anger." We know that the masses cannot purchase bulky folios, cannot subscribe to encyclopædias, cannot generally find time to peruse long and elaborate treatises, and yet they will read. Let them, then, be presented with information in a convenient compass, in an attractive form, and at a reasonable price. Truly these desiderata have been realised in many of the publications now widely circulated. We therein do rejoice, yea, and will rejoice. It is with no idea of superseding such serials that this magazine sees the

light. There is room for many, many more periodicals of an elevating tone. Readers are daily

increasing in number, and we do not believe that the birth of one publication must be attended by the demise of another, or that the success of one must be necessarily secured at the cost of another. The words of Manton, though nearly two centuries old, are deserving notice here. "There is no end of books, and yet we seem to need more every day there was such a darkness brought in by the fall, as will not thoroughly be dispelled till we come to Heaven, where the sun shineth without either cloud or night; for the present all should contribute their help according to the rate and measure of their abilities. Some can hold up a candle, others a torch, but all are useful. The press is an excellent means to scatter knowledge, were it not so often abused. All complain there is enough written, and think that now there should be a stop. Indeed, it were well if in this scribbling age there were some restraint; useless pamphlets are grown almost as great a mischief as the erroneous and profane. Yet 'tis not good to shut the door upon industry and diligence. There is yet room left to discover more (above all that has been said) of the wisdom of God, and the riches of His grace in the gospel; yea, more of the stratagems of Satan, and the deceitfulness of man's heart. Means need to be increased every day to weaken

sin, and strengthen trust, and quicken us to holiness. Fundamentals are the same in all ages, but the constant necessities of the Church and private Christians will continually enforce a further explication; as the arts and sleights of besieging and battering increase, so doth skill in fortification. If we have no other benefit by the multitude of books that are written, we have this benefit, an opportunity to observe the various workings of the same Spirit about the same truths; and, indeed, the speculation is neither idle nor unfruitful."

Bidding a hearty "God speed" to all kindred publications, we launch our barque, looking for the Pilot of the Galilean Lake to be our guide. We hope to convey to many a household a "Quiver," from which "Good Words" may be chosen for life's struggles; a Christian Treasury," with which many a 66 Leisure Hour" and Sunday at Home" may be pleasantly passed. Our resolution is to preserve it ever an "Evangelical Magazine," that it may be a "Christian Witness" wherever it meets a friend; and we earnestly pray that many may find it "The Homilist" to counsel in perplexity, "The Rainbow" to encourage in the tearful hour, of doubt, and Sunshine" to cheer in the winter of sorrow. It is not too much to hope that each monthly number will merit Milton's description of a "good book," "the precious life-blood of a master spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose, to a life beyond life."

NEAR to a precipice's frowning verge,
A noble, fearless boy
Stood, gazing proudly on the ocean surge;
His frequent, fond employ.
For danger in its ever-varying forms
He felt contempt not small;

He thought of icebergs, quicksands, rocks, and storms,

And longed to brave them all!

Just where to halt and ponder he had pleased,

The cliff the beach o'erhung;

His footing failed-he fell-a bough he seized;

And thus in mid-air swung.

Hope nearly fled; his folly he bewailed;
Death seemed at hand to be;
When suddenly a voice his ears assailed-
"Let go, and trust in me!

I'm able, willing, and can save thee now;
Repress thy heart's alarms!"
With joy he heard-believed-let go the
bough,

And fell in friendly arms.

The contrite soul, at threatening death aghast,

With such a child-like "faith," At Jesus' voice, quits hold of "works," to cast Her life on what He saith.

CARACTACUS.

circles which are yet unbroken, but if these exist, they form only the exception, division and separation are the rule; under these circumstances, how great a source of comfort is it to feel that all, how widely soever they may be scattered over the "wide wide world," are equally under the supervision, and share equally the regard of One kind beneficent Parent; and "in His hands are all the corners of the earth!"

It may be that where the lot of those we love is cast, there is a dearth of religious and intellectual privileges; this is a great and serious drawback, let none think or speak lightly of such a position as of little consequence. And yet, the actual paucity of present advantages in these respects, may cause the mind to dwell more fondly, and the memory to recall more vividly, those bygone times, when all was so different at home. this retrospection is very advantageous, how much so, none can tell but those who have personally experienced its influence; the sentiments and doctrines we imbibed from loved, and perchance lost ones, in days long past, sometimes

And

come back, in seasons of mental dearth, with a vigour and distinctness that astonishes even ourselves. The precepts that have so long lain dormant in the heart, without apparently producing any result, may nevertheless not have been inactive. The good seed, sown broadcast, may not be lost; indeed, Scripture assures us that it cannot be; for what saith our God, "My word shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I send it."

And in how many instances have we seen this promise verified? Look at the well-known case of the Rev. John Newton. Depraved, abandoned, given up to every vicious propensity that long habit had almost confirmed into second nature; fulfilling in himself the fearful description given by the Apostle, and "working all uncleanness with

greediness;" a slave, too, in a foreign land, and under the lash of a harsh task-master, pursuing with oaths and imprecations his daily routine of labour, the severity of which wrung his every sinew! Can a position be even imagined more utterly lost and degraded than apparently was his? And yet, even in this deep misery, the omniscient eye of God was upon him, and from the seemingly unfathomable abyss of eternal wretchedness on whose brink he tottered, the powerful hand of God snatched him as a brand from the burning."

66

Do we ask what mighty machinery was set in motion to effect this wonderful escape? Simply thisa thought of his childhood's home flashed like a sunbeam athwart his darkened mind, (he says to himself it was the first time for years that such an idea had presented itself to him,) the thought gained strength from the very contrast of his then present condition; with memory's eye he saw again his cottage home in the peaceful village afar; he saw his gentle mother, and heard her loving tones; and it was the remembrance of that mother's care, and of the time when, an innocent child, he knelt at her feet and lisped out the simple prayer she taught him, that most strongly and vividly affected him now; and the savage criminal was softened and overcome -the hardened sinner wept!

Oh! those salutary tears-like heaven's refreshing dew shed on the parched and thirsty ground, fell the drops from those burning eyelids; not for long, long years had that hard heart been thus relieved, and in a paroxysm of uncontrollable emotion he threw himself on the ground and prayed! words perhaps passed not the lips so long unused to form themselves to prayer, but He who reads the heart needed them notthe sinner prayed, and the healing balm of consolation was not long withheld.

By-and-by came the re-action; remorse seized him, terror and doubts assailed him, conscience bitterly accused him, even reason asked, Can it be possible that so vile