to supply the desideratum. Without the facilities afforded by the books being all within his own premises, it would have taken the entire labour of a life-time to have brought a work ranging over such a wide field to completion.

The first volume is intended to be complete in itself, and contains the authors and their works in an alphabetical arrangement.

"In the Second Volume the whole of the matter contained in the first will be arranged under heads or common-places in scientific order, with an Alphabetical Index, by which any subject can be readily referred to; and all authors of any authority who have written on it at once exhibited, with the titles of their Works, Treatises, Dissertations, or Sermons, and a reference to the volumes and pages where they are to be found. Sermons and other illustrations of Scripture will be arranged, not only under the books, chapters, or verses of Scripture on which they treat, but also under the subjects of Divinity; and the Festivals, Fasts, and other days observed by the Church throughout the year. This last department will form a very important feature in the Work; the Library containing an uncommonly complete collection, the whole contents of which will be made available in the readiest manner.

"The references to works on all heads of Divinity, whether as Books, Treatises, Dissertations, Sermons, Lectures, Discourses, or otherwise, will greatly exceed in number that of any former Bibliographical work, so that a great choice of authors will be presented to the reader, who will always be assisted in his choice by a reference to the first volume of the Catalogue, where he will find an account of each author or book sufficient to answer his purpose."

We trust the enterprizing projector of this important work may receive sufficient encouragement to go successfully though with his great and laborious undertaking.

Picturesque Sketches of London, Past and Present. By THOMAS MILLER. London: Office of the National Illustrated Library.

THIS is not exactly a guide-book to the great Metropolis. It consists of a series of Sketches of various parts of London, in which, while perfect accuracy is preserved, the dulness of a mere itinerary is avoided. In one of these sketches, entitled London Cemeteries, a graphic account is given of the abominable condition in which the majority of these graveyards were kept before the approach of the cholera in 1849. As the Pestilence is again on the march, and in all probability will visit our shores, we trust that the precautions formerly adopted by the authorities in all parts of the country will be brought into immediate operation. The description of the ravages of the cholera in the locality in which Mr. Miller resided is picturesque enough :

"The Land of Death in which we dwelt was Newington, hemmed in by Lambeth, Southwark, Bermondsey, and other gloomy parishes through which the pestilence stalked like a Destroying Angel in the deep shadows of the night and the open noon of day, while in every street

"There was nought but mourning weeds,

And sorrow and dismay;

Where burial met with burial still,

And jostled by the way."-Hogg.

The "Registrar-General" but gives an account of those who died; but marshals up the forces which have joined the ranks of Death; how and where they fell are briefly touched upon; but a description of the battle

ground, with all those little accessories of moving light and shadow which enrich the picture, he leaves to other hands, for they come not within the compass of his graver duties. Though the task is far removed from a pleasant one, it is necessary that we should preserve some record of this eventful season, so that in after-years, when our pages are referred to, a faithful photograph, taken at the true moment of time, may therein be found.

"All day long was that sullen bell tolling-from morning to night, it scarcely ceased a moment; for as soon as it had rung the knell of another departed spirit, there was a fresh funeral at the churchyard gate, and again that ding-dong' pealed mournfully through the sad and sultry atmosphere. Those who were left behind, too ill to join the funeral procession, heard not always the returning footsteps of the muffled mourners, for sometimes Death again entered the house while they were absent; and when they reached home they found another victim ready to be borne to the grave; then they sat down and wept in very despair. Death came no longer as of old, knocking painfully at the door of life, but strode noiselessly in, and, before one was well aware, smote his victim-no one could tell how, for the strong man, who appeared hale and well one hour, was weak and helpless the next, and fell without knowing whence the blow came.

"In some houses all died; and after the dilapidated building had been closed a few days, other tenants took possession, and, in two or three of these changes, the new tenants also perished-the mercenary landlords never breathing a word about what had befallen the others. The putrid cesspool and stagnant sewer still yawned and bubbled and steamed in the sunshine, and poisoned all who inhaled the deadly gases; and when but few human beings were left, an investigation took place, and the evil was removed. In several death-engendering courts the whole of the inhabitants were driven out, and fresh shelter found for them until their wretched dwellings were purified.

"So few at first escaped after they were attacked by the malignant and mysterious desease, that you looked upon them as persons who had trodden the confines of another world-as beings rescued from the jaws of death, and destined to accomplish some great mission. You gazed on them in awe and wonder. Those in the prime of life, and ruddy with apparent health, fell around you like summer flowers beneath the scythe of the mower. Then medical men of long standing began to drop off: you missed one here, and another there, and with them hope at last fled. They cannot save themselves, exclaimed the terror-stricken populace; 'then how can we hope to escape if the desease overtake us?' Old nurses who had grown grey in the service of Death shrank back and shuddered as they heard themselves summoned to attend the sick. Thousands who had the means fled into the country and hastened to the sea-side, where they thought themselves secure; but the wings of the Angel of Death threw a melancholy shadow over the whole land.

"Stout-hearted men who had families started suddenly from their sleep in the dead of night, if they only heard one of their children moaning in its slumber words muttered in a dream were like a sharp icicle thurst into the heart, for they feared that the Destroyer had come; and they knew that he seldom retired without carrying off his victim. In old tavern-parlours, where the same company had assembled for years, the sounds of merriment were no longer heard. Men spoke to one another with bated breath;' inquired who was dead, and who dying; and if some old acquaintance was but a few minutes behind his usual time, they sat gazing on his vacant chair in silence, or perchance one ventured to inquire in a whisper if he had been seen that night. Many shook hands at the tavern-doors, went

home, and never met again. Four in the morning was a dreaded hour, and numbers no doubt died through fright who were attacked in the faint dawnof the day, for they believed that time to be fatal. In some streets five or six shops that stood together were closed-many were not opened again for several days. You saw the windows standing open day and night, but not a living soul stirred within those walls. Many who died were removed in the night sometimes twenty were buried in one grave.

"Then the cry arose that the churchyards were too full, that there was no longer any room for the dead. I must find room, or I shall be ruined,' exclaimed the sexton; it cost me all I had in the world to get elected.' The grave-digger threw down his spade, wiped the perspiration from his brow, and said, 'Our occupation's gone. The cry increased; and then the incessant tolling of the bell ceased; for an order was issued that the dead should no longer rout the dead, or their sleep be broken almost before the features had been effaced by slow decay. Then Death ceased to become his own avenger; for when he found that the secrets of his dark dominions were no more to be laid bare to the open eye of day, he no longer smote those who trod reverentially on the verge of his territories. The streets were no longer darkened with funerals; you no longer saw men running in every direction with coffins on their heads, knocking at doors, and delivering them with no more ceremony or feeling than the postman delivers his letters. The solemn hearse and the dark mourning-coach now moved slowly along, and the dead were borne away to green and peaceful cemeteries, far removed from the dwellings of the living. Nuisances were removed-sewers were cleansed the abodes of the poor purified, and at last rendered habitable; and then the plague was stayed.'

Original Poetry.

THE AUTUMN LEAF.

THE Autumn Leaf!-Ah me, how soon
The summer days roll by:

It seems to me but yesterday

Since laughing spring was nigh;
And yet the yellow Autumn Leaf
Whispers the time is not so brief.

The Autumn Leaf!—Thou withering thing,
What sermons dost thou tell!

'Tis not alone of woodland gay,

And solitary dell

Thou lov'st to speak.-Thy rustling breath

Speaks of frail man's decay and death.

Thou hast a tale of spring-tide hours,-
Frail emblem of decay,-

How opening buds of early flowers
Smiled on the coming May.
Alas! alas! that things so fair
Should wither in the summer air.
A tale thou hast of sunny hours,
In the merry month of June;
Methinks I hear thee sadly sigh,
The longest had its noon.
And then, far in the western wave,
The dying day sought its ocean grave.

Infants, roaming 'mid the flowers,
Hither wend with rapid feet;
Dost thou mark yon sered leaf,
Quivering o'er the garden seat?
Dost thou mark it? Mark it well;
For lessons sage a leaf may tell.
See! it shaketh to and fro,

Even as the breezes blow ;-
Yonder leaf, on yonder tree,

Speaks of blossoms faded now,

Of spring-tide bloom, and summer morn ;
Youth and beauty ne'er return.

Dost thou say the woods are green,

Still the western breeze is bland?
Child, 'tis but deception all,-

Winter hovers on the strand,-
Soon the boding Autumn gale

Shall strip the woods and sweep the vale.

Soon shall winter's angry storms

Madly range o'er hill and plain.

Already, 'mid the forest glade,

The singing brook hath changed its strain ;
And see, upon the silent green,

The daisy meek alone is seen.

'Twas thus we mused upon a leaf,
Entranced with pleasing spell;

'Twas thus we mused, and as we mused
The withering leaflet fell :

Awhile it fluttered in the gale,—

So sinks frail man-in death's dark vale.

R. E. M.

ECCLESIASTICAL INTELLIGENCE.

Paisley Abbey Induction. By appointment of the Commission of the General Assembly, the Established Presbytery of Paisley met in the Abbey Sessionhouse on Thursday last-Dr. Lockhart, Moderator. The Court having been constituted, the Clerk read the extract deliverance of the Commission, dismissing the objections to the life and doctrine of the Rev. Andrew Wilson, and ordering the Presbytery to proceed that day with the induction of the presentee. Mr. Brewster then insisted that it was in the option of the Presbytery to obey or disregard the order of the Commission. He read and laid on the table a protest against the induction of Mr. Wilson. After considerable delay on a motion by Mr. Dale, the act against Simony was read to Mr. Wilson, and the Moderator, accompanied by the

Members, proceeded to the Church, where a respectable congregation was assembled. Dr. Lockhart conducted the public services; and thereafter Mr. Wilson was admitted as Minister of the First Charge of the Abbey Church and Parish, and he received from the brethren the right hand of fellowship. Presentation. In compliance with the unanimous wish of the people, the Earl of Eglinton has presented the Rev. Andrew Brown, Minister of Irvine, to the Church and Parish of Beith, vacant by the death of the Rev. Dr. Colville.

Call.-The Parishioners of Kilmaurs have invited the Rev. Robert Lockhart, A.M., to become their Pastor, a list of nine Candidates having been submitted to them by the Patron, the Earl of Eglinton and Winton.

PHILOSOPHICAL PORTRAITS.

""Tis sweet when life is waning, to look back
From the soft arm-chair of a quiet hearth,

On the green fields and golden hours of youth;

What schools we sat in,-what famed books we read,—
What masters of the old philosophy

Fixed us in breathless wonder, as we drew

Inspiring draughts from wisdom's limpid well :-
Such thoughts are age's pastime."

THOSE were a series of dreadfully excited years which preceded the late lamentable schism in the Scottish Church.-The recollection of the distressful and morbidly anxious state of the minds of the community, during that period of intense apprehension, may have been partially dimmed by the many startling events which have more recently taken place-and which were the destined result of the agitation that was then in progress but the memory of those years, and of the tremulous state of feeling which they produced throughout all portions of the community, can never be entirely obliterated from any minds which were duly observant of the signs of the times-and especially from the minds of those who think it a duty to notice into what portentous shapes human nature and human feeling may be thrown-when factious feeling is permitted to take its untrammelled range-and when the ordinary rules of morality are viewed as things applicable only to ordinary occurrences, but altogether unfitted for the use of men, who, as a party, aim at what they may think great, and extensively advantageous objects.

We have no wish, in the present article, to dwell at any greater length upon the causes, the symptoms, or the results of that strangely agitated state of public feeling and public opinion;-suffice it to say, that presbyteries, throughout all the length and breadth of the land, were