draw near to him whose gracious invitation is, "Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth; for I am God, and beside

me there is none else."

THE DARKNESS AT THE CRUCIFIXION
SUPERNATURAL*.

"Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over

all the land unto the ninth hour." Hence it appears that our Saviour had already been suspended on the cross for three hours. He was placed there at the third hour, whieh is our nine o'clock in the morning; and the darkness commenced at the sixth, which is our twelve at noon. But whence this darkness" over all the land," or "over all the earth," both which phrases, we have reason to conclude, signify no more than the land of Judea? It could not be from any ordinary eclipse of the sun, because the moon was then at the full, at which time such an event cannot take place. For an eclipse of the sun to happen, it is necessary that the moon should pass between the Sun and our earth; and our globe at that time, as at the present season (Good Friday), was between the sun and the moon +. Moreover, the duration of the darkness would further prove that it was not a natural eclipse, inasmuch as the darkness in total eclipses of the sun never continues, in any part of the world, more than four minutes; and in partial eclipses never more than eight minutes. On this occasion, therefore, the continuance of the darkness for three hours proves that it must have been supernatural.

And how do we know that the moon was at the full when our Saviour suffered upon the cross? Because he was crucified at the time of the celebration of the passover, which feast, as we learn from scripture, was kept on the fourteenth day of the month Abib, or Nisan, on which day, as the Jewish months commenced with a new moon, according to the Mosaic institution, the moon would be at the full. We learn also from Josephus, that in his time the day of expiation, and consequently the other feasts,

From "The Crucifixion, a Sermon, by rev. William John Hall, M.A."-See notice in Church of England Magazine. No. cexci., p. 120. Aug. 1841.

For the first three centuries some of the primitive Christians kept Easter-day upon the same day on which the Jews celebrated their passover, namely, on the fourteenth day of the vernal moon; but the Western or European churches, finding that this arrangement necessarily brought the celebration of our Lord's resurrection to other days of the week beside the first, kept their Easter-day on the Sunday next following the Jewish passover; while the Asiatic churches insisted upon retaining the other practice. On account of this variation serious dissensions arose, which were at last terminated by Constantine, who, to prevent future disputes, established at the council of Nice, A.D, 325, the following paschal canons:

1. That the twenty-first day of March shall be counted the vernal equinox.

2. That the full moon happening upon or next after the twenty-first day of March, shall be taken for the full moon of Nisan.

3. That the Lord's day next following that full moon be Easter-day.

4. But if the full moon happen upon a Sunday, Easter-day shall be the Sunday after.

It is by these canons that our church determines the time for the celebration of the feast of Easter, which cannot fall sooner than the 22nd of March, nor later than the 25th of April. In 1818, Easter-day fell on the 22nd of March, but cannot again occur on the same day until A.D. 2285. It should be observed, that the full moons are not reckoned according to the rules of the modern almanacs, but according to the ancient synodical determinations and paschal cycles of the church.

I Abib was originally the seventh month of the Hebrew year; but God commanded that, in remembrance of the deliverance of Israel from Egypt, it should for the future be reckoned as the first month of their ecclesiastical year; and that on the fourteenth day should be celebrated the anniversary of their wonderful preservation, while the first-born of the Egyptians were destroyed (see Exodus xii.)

Jenning's Jewish Antiq. book iii. c. 1. Doddridge's Expo, sect. 191. Michaelis on the Laws of Moses, art. 197.

were still regulated by the age of the moon *. So that the passover was never celebrated, except at the first full moon after the vernal equinox, in the month

of Abib, which answers to parts of our March and April.

From whatever supernatural causes, however, the Almighty was pleased "to clothe the heavens with blackness," in order to testify his wrath against the wickedness of the Jewish people, it certainly was emblematical of that darkness which has ever since ennation, which, to the present moment, is under the shrouded the hearts and minds of that unhappy covering of a thick veil, so that they cannot appreciate the worth, nor perceive the richness of the atonement made on Calvary, without which no soul I could ever have been saved. And, if the Jews were too callous to feel for the sufferings of the Redeemer, nature herself evinced her concern. St. Luke says, behold the horrid deed. And, unless their hearts had "The sun was darkened." He was not permitted to been harder than the rocks, they too would have shrunk from wickedness so vile, and a murder so atrocious. Nature can sympathize and mourn over the sufferings and death of the Son of God; while man, for whom he endured all, can remain insensate attended the joy of the Saviour's birth, so a miraand unmoved. Thus, as an extraordinary light culous darkness accompanied the gloom of his cruel

death. "Darkness was over the whole land until the ninth hour."

THE MOCKERY AT THE CROSS OF JESUS +. DURING the three hours in which our Lord hung on the cross previous to the commencement of the darkness, he observed the conduct of the assembled multitude.

The behaviour of the unfeeling crowds who press to witness an execution is nearly the same in all countries and ages. In our own Christian land there are not wanting disgraceful instances of tumultuous acclamation when a miserable fellow-creature is being launched into eternity. The hiss, the scorn, the laugh, the execrations mark not only their indignant feelings at his wickedness, but also their own destitution of that nobleness of pity and solemnity of heart, which should characterize every rational being at such a moment‡. But man is a fallen, selfish being-" commixture strange of good and evil." Prejudice and passion obliterate the stirrings of humanity, and convert us into fiends. What else is a mocker at calamity? God has no pleasure in the sorrows of his creatures. The malignity of Satan finds congenial food in the most painful torments. But surely man joins in Satan's laugh only when he has Satan's spirit.

How bitter is the laugh of scorn; how cruel is disdain and mockery! Jesus was here tried to the utmost. All that man could do in this way was done.

Joseph. Ant. lib. iii. 10, 3. Δεκάτη τοῦ μηνὸς κατὰ σελήνην.

+From "Christ on the Cross; an exposition of the twentysecond Psalm; by the rev. John Stevenson, perpetual curate of Cury and Gunwalloe, Cornwall." Second edition. London: J. H. Jackson, L. and G. Seeley. 1841. 8vo, pp. 412.-This very scriptural work is divided into two parts-one, Christ on the cross in darkness; two, Christ on the cross in light. The sentiments and tone of the exposition are unexceptionable. Its perusal in Lent especially could not fail to throw much light on many of those subjects which then more particularly suggest themselves for the Christian's meditation; and many of our clerical brethren might draw much matter to aid them hereafter in preparation for the usually more laborious duties of that season. We cordially recommend it to the notice of our readers. With the sentiments contained in the above extract we cordially agree.-ED.

It is painful in the extreme to know that they who generally utter the loudest exclamations of disgust at the conduct of the wretched culprits about to be launched into eternity, are persons themselves of the most abandoned character, and treading the sure path to condemnation and punishment.

The women joined the scornful men. The rich took part with the poor. The chief priests demeaned themselves to a level with the lowest of the crowd: forgetting self-respect, and even decency of manners, every thing was sacrificed to the gratification of reviling Christ. Saving in the little band of true disciples, there was exhibited one universal mockery over this congregated mass of human beings. The smile of contempt, the jeer of ridicule, the loud laugh of derision, were all employed against the Lord. Instead of sympathising in his sorrow, they were rejoicing and exulting over his distress: "All they that see me laugh me to scorn." Here there was no mistake. A dejected spirit is apt to imagine evils; but Jesus had experienced this treatment too frequently before to misunderstand it now. When he entered the chamber of death, and comforted Jairus, it is said of the people in the room, that "they laughed him to scorn." It was needful that the Redeemer should be tried in every possible way that he should be" tempted in all points like as we are." This was doubly necessary-first, that he should be proved to be "yet without sin;" and, secondly, that he should thus be able from his own experience to sympathize fully in the sorrows of his people.

Ridicule is at all times bad-to all persons painful; and from any individual rude and disgraceful: we dishonour ourselves by employing it. At best it is a punitive weapon-never a healing medicine. If it banish an offence from the manner, it sinks one deeper into the heart. Of all retaliative weapons, it seems most like that which an evil spirit would put into our hands. It defends self, and wounds an opponent, but never does real good to either. The satirist is dreaded, but not loved; we smile at his pictures of others, but we recoil from his company yet the smile is sinful which attends a sinful deed. Did we love our neighbour as we love ourselves, we should as sorely feel, and certainly reprove the ridicule that injures him, as we do that which is directed against ourselves. So would Jesus have felt. He never listened to a backbiter, or a satirist the first attempt would have called forth his disapprobation. Yet he here endured it in his own person without inurmur or complaint; he heard all that the company of mockers could say against him. It is written of the persecuted saints, and may especially be affirmed of the Saviour-" He had trial of cruel mockings." Nor were his revilers contented with opprobrious epithets; their malevolence was too great to find vent only in words: signs and gestures, movements and gesticulations, must increase its emphasis and assist its utterance. The evangelist gives us a full account of their shameful doings: St. Matthew says, 66 they that passed reviled him, wagging their heads;" St. Mark adds, "likewise the chief priests, mocking, said among themselves with the scribes,' he saved others, himself he cannot save'" (xv. 31). St. Luke informs us that the soldiers also mocked him, coming to him and offering him vinegar (xxiii. 36).

Mockery accompanied the Saviour from the garden of Gethsemane till he expired on Calvary: Judas set the example with his insidious kiss: the men that apprehended him mocked him: the officers at the several courts mocked him: the chief priests, scribes, and pharisees mocked him: the high priest himself, Caiaphas, mocked him the servants of his house and others surrounded the Saviour and mocked him they smote him with their staves, and with the palms of their hands: they did spit in his face: they plucked off the hair: they blind-folded him: then they did buffet him with their fists, and said, "Prophesy unto us, thou Christ, who is he that smote thee" (Matt. xxvi. 68)? Herod and his men of war mocked him,

This circumstance, however, was rather the smile of incredulity than the jeer of contempt.-ED.

and set him at nought; arraying him in a gorgeous robe, they sent him away as a laughing-stock to whence he was brought. Pilate regarded him as a weak, inoffensive creature, and jestingly asked him, "What is truth?" brought him forth, saying, "Behold the man!" and sent him to crucifixion with this mock title-"The King of the Jews." The Roman soldiers mocked him with a most perfect mockery. They acted it to the very life: they procured a crown -it was of thorns; royal garments-they were a castoff purple vest, and a scarlet robe; a sceptre—it was reed; they paid him homage as a king-it was mock-kneeling, laughter, and derision; they lavished their honours upon him-their salutation was a scoff, Hail, king of the Jews!" their gifts were not gold, but strokes-not frankincense, but spitting-not myrrh, but mockery. When he was led away to Golgotha, a mocking multitude followed him; his feeble frame, his tottering steps, his ghastly visage, were subjects of entertainment, ridicule, and biting sarcasm to his enemies. Doubtless his friends shared this ignominy. The weeping of the women would be mocked, their wailings derided, their gestures of grief pointed at with laughter.

All this too was perfectly gratuitous. The ceremonies of judgment had some show of necessity-the scourging and the crucifixion were ordered by the officers of justice; but to make mirth and mockery over a fellow-creature's sufferings was the most wanton piece of cruelty that has ever been heard of. It was altogether without the least pretence of reason. The gratification of their own cruel and malicious propensities, the indulgence of their hatred and spiteful feelings, and their mad desire to render Christ as miserable as it was possible to make him, were their only stimulants. Therefore they hurry him forward to Calvary, that they may set him up as their mark-a spectacle to the whole nation that abhors him (Isa. xlix. 7). There every species of mockery that can be thought of is employed; they wag the head, shoot out the lip, make wide the mouth, draw out the tongue, wink with the eye, point with the finger, utter the jest, break forth with laughter, and jeer at him with the bitterest scorn.

Behold this motley

Imagine this dreadful scene. multitude of rich and poor-of Jews and Gentiles: some stand in groups and gaze; some recline at ease and stare; others move about in restless gratification at the event. There is a look of satisfaction on every countenance. None are silent. The velocity of speech seems tardy. The theme is far too great for one member to utter; every lip, and head, and finger, is now a tongue. The rough soldiers, too, are busied in their coarse way: the work of blood is over; refreshment has become necessary; their usual beverage of vinegar and water is supplied to them; as they severally are satisfied, they approach the cross, hold some forth to the Saviour, and bid him drink as they withdraw it; they know he must be suffering an intense thirst, therefore they aggravate it with this mockery of refreshment. Cruel Romans! and ye, O, regicidal Jews! was not death enough? Must mockery and scorn be added? On this sad day Christ made you one indeed! Dreadful unity! which constitutes you joint mockers and murderers of the Lord of glory.

Contemplating this scene with feelings of indignation, the Christian may be tempted to say, "Had I been there, I would not have joined this mocking multitude." Boast not so. Hadst thou been there, thou wouldst, without God's grace, have taken part with that cruel crowd. Say, hast thou done nothing to offend thy Master since last year? If conscience tell thee thou hast often grieved him, now that he is in heaven, let calm reflection convince thee that, without restraining grace, thou also wouldst have mocked him in his sorrow upon the cross. All Jews and Gentiles

Re

are alike-both classes equally need the Spirit of God. "As in water face answereth to face, so doth the heart of man to man." What others did, we would, without sustaining grace, do also. Let us remember Peter, and be humble. The hour of trial proves how weak the very strongest are in themselves. Every Christian knows by experience that he has not, in every company, and on all occasions, acted and spoken as a valiant and faithful soldier of the cross. membering, therefore, how difficult it is, and how impossible in yourself to stand, even for an hour, against the example of those around you, thank God, O Christian, that thy sins were there that day, and not thy person; lest, being ashamed to join a few weeping women, thou shouldst have been led away with the multitude to do evil, and been found with eye and head and finger, mocking the meek and suffering

Saviour of the world.

Biography.

NOTICE OF THE REV. THOMAS ORPE, VICAR OF STAUNTON, SHROPSHIRE.

I HAVE heretofore laid before the readers of the Church of England Magazine brief memorials of some of those devoted men who, in the evil days when it was deemed a crime to adhere to that church, nevertheless held fast their allegiance to her, and refused not to suffer for conscience sake. Α notice of another individual, who was so persecuted, may not be unacceptable. The facts are furnished on the authority of Walker, in his "Sufferings of the Clergy."

66

Thomas Orpe was born about the year 1610. After the usual course of education he became school-master at Tarporley, in Cheshire, and curate to Dr. Fowler, at Whitchurch, in Shropshire. When the rebellion had broken out, he was summoned before the committee at Nantwich, and was offered preferment on condition of his taking the solemn league and covenant. But this he decidedly refused; and therefore he was immediately subjected to persecution. "Warrants," says his son, were issued out to the constables to take him, and bring him by force, which the constables said was for hanging, or a worse turn, to be kept as a prisoner there; and then, failing of their purposes, soldiers were often sent, both horse and foot, and beset the house at midnight to take him by violence to the gaol. And above all the rest, as I do well remember, once they came about midnight, myself, my brother, and sister all being asleep in our beds, and called aloud to open the door, that they might take the rogue they had so many journies about; and threatened to fire or pull down the house upon our heads, because my mother did not make haste to open the door at their command; and then came in with drawn swords and pistols cocked, and said it was a good deed to shoot her forthwith. After they had searched and could not find my father, they rifled the house, and took away what they had a mind to, and ripped open the beds and bolsters, shaking out the feathers and flocks upon the ground, to make bags to carry the corn in the tithe-barn away, to give their horses. Not long after another party of them came upon a Lord's-day, thinking to find my father at church in the morning service, but, missing of him, they con

tented themselves with breaking open his stable door and stealing his horse "

By these outrages Mr. Orpe was compelled to leave Tarporley. He repaired therefore to Whitchurch, where he set up a little school; but in a few months he was driven thence also. Next, having officiated for a while at Morton-sea, a chapelry in the parish of Hodnet, he was turned out of that station by colonel Clive, who, living in the parish, seized upon the patronage of the chapel, and put in one Peartree, who had previously been a pedlar, and therefore we may conclude was but little fitted to minister in holy things. Thus was Mr. Orpe driven from place to place, finding no rest to the sole of his foot.

To add to his affliction, his wife was at that time confined in child-birth; and he also, being forced to conceal himself, fell down stairs at the house where he was lodged, and broke his leg. In this helpless condition he lay four months, with no other means of subsistence than what the hand of charity bestowed upon him. But he that supplied his people with bread in the wilderness, and called water for them in their thirst from the stony rock, he did not forsake his suffering servant. The family of the Corbets were raised up as comforters to Mr. Orpe. He was indeed distantly related to them, and, because the arms of that house are ravens, he used thankfully to say that God had fed him, as he did Elijah of old, by the ministry of the ravens. And, as soon as he was sufficiently recovered to ride on horseback, lady Corbet (the relict of sir John) sent for him to officiate at a small curacy in or belonging to Hodnet, where she lived; of this, however, he was speedily dispossessed. He was next presented by lady Corbet (the relict of sir Andrew) to the vicarage of Staunton; but he had scarcely been settled in it half a year before one Rowland Kent instigated the parishioners against him, and accused, him before some of the tribunals of the times, on several false and frivolous charges. It is observable that some of his persecutors, who made the greatest profession of religion, were soon after detected in open immorality: he had not therefore much difficulty in entirely rebutting their attacks; and, having been pronounced altogether innocent, he was permitted for two or three years quietly to enjoy his living.

But further troubles were in store for him; and the malice of a pretended friend proved more dangerous than the enmity of open foes. There was in those parts a person who had formerly been Mr. Orpe's school-fellow, of the name of Gilbert, rector of Edgmond, and domestic chaplain to Oliver Cromwell. He took upon him, under the appearance of kindness, to send for his old intimate, and urged him to take the engagement, which was a pledge to be faithful to the then government without a king or house of peers, accompanying his proposal with the assurance that preferment of considerable value should be the reward of his compliance. But the bribe was indignantly rejected; and in consequence Gilbert procured in revenge the vicarage of Staunton for Mr. Churchlow, who had been a gentleman's butler, but was at that time his curate. This man therefore prepared to deprive Mr. Orpe of his living, regarding little his noble conscientiousness, and not troubling himself to