As the ascending current is thus broken, and enervated, before it reaches the surface, the surface is not billowy, but comparatively level. The wavy, tossed aspect of other streams, immediately below their cataracts, is the result of a force, applied at the surface; or of a current, descending only to a moderate depth. In the present case, as the ascending current comes from a depth so vast, it almost equally affects the whole mass, and cannot disturb the common level by the smallest fluctuations. The whole appearance, however, made an impression on the mind, of an agitation incalculably greater, and a force far more astonishing, than that which produces the loftiest billows of the ocean. This was a scene which I was unprepared to expect, and an exhibition of the force of water, which I had never before imagined.

"Of the singular depth of the river at this place no spectator will ask for proof. To others it may be alleged, that a deep stream, from two to three and a half miles wide, is here contracted at once to somewhat less than half a mile; that logs, and other substances, after descending the precipice, continue buried a long time before they emerge; and that this immense mass of water, plunging from such a height, has been so long and so unceasingly excavating the bed below.

"The noise of this cataract has often been the object of admiration, and the subject of loose and general description. We heard it distinctly when crossing the ferry at the distance of eighteen miles; the wind blowing from the north-west almost at right angles with the direction of the sound. Two gentlemen, who had lived some time at York, on the north side of Lake Ontario, and who were my companions in the stage, informed me, that it was not unfrequently heard there. The distance is fifty miles.

"The note, or tone, if I may call it such, is the same with the hoarse roar of the ocean; being much more grave, or less shrill, than that which proceeds from other objects of the same nature. It is not only louder, but seems as if it were expanded to a singular extent; as if it filled the atmosphere, and spread over all the surrounding country. The only variety which attends it, is a continual undulation; resembling that of long musical chords, when struck with a forcible impulse. These undulations succeed each other with great rapidity. When two persons stand very near to each other, they can mutually hear their ordinary conversation. When removed to a small distance, they are obliged to halloo; and, when removed a little farther, cannot be heard at all. Every other sound is drowned in the tempest of noise, made by the water; and all else in the regions of nature appears to be dumb. This noise is a vast thunder, filling the heavens, shaking the earth, and leaving the mind, although perfectly conscious of safety, and affected with a sense of grandeur only, lost and astonished, swelling with emotions which engross all its faculties, and mock the power of utterance."

"In the mist, produced by all cataracts, rainbows are ordinarily seen in a proper position, when the sun shines; always, indeed, unless when the vapour is too rare. Twice, while we were here, the sun broke through the clouds, and lighted up in a moment the most lucid rainbow which I ever beheld. In each instance the phænomenon continued a long time, and left us in perfect leisure to enjoy its splendours. It commenced near the precipice, and extended, so far as I was able to judge, at least a mile down the river. These rainbows differed widely from all others which I had seen; and, so far as I remember, from those of which I have read. The red, orange, and yellow, were so vivid, as to excite in our whole company strong emotions of surprise and pleasure; while the green blue, indigo, and violet, were certainly not more brilliant than in those which are usually seen on the bosom of a shower. I thought them less bright, possibly because they were so faint, compared with the other colours. The cause of this peculiarity I have not attempted to investigate.

"The emotions, excited by the view of this stupendous scene, are unutterable. When the spectator casts his eye over the long ranges of ragged cliffs, which form the shores of this great river below the cataract; cliffs one hundred and fifty feet in height, bordering it with lonely gloom and grandeur, and shrouded everywhere by shaggy forests; when he surveys the precipice above, stretching with so great an amplitude, rising to so great a height, and presenting in a single view its awful brow, with an impression not a little enhanced by the division which the island forms between the two great branches of the river; when he contemplates the enormous mass of water, pouring from this astonishing height in sheets so vast, and with a force so amazing; when, turning his eye to the flood beneath, he beholds the immense convulsion of the mighty mass; and listens to the majestic sound which fills the heavens; his mind is overwhelmed by thoughts CHRIST. OBSERV. No. 45. 3 Z

too great, and by impressions too powerful, to permit the current of the intellect to flow with serenity. The disturbance of his mind resembles that of the waters beneath him. His bosom swells with emotions never felt; his thoughts labour in a manner never known before. The pleasure is exquisite but violent. The conceptions are clear and strong, but rapid and tumultuous."

VESPUCIUS.

ON THE IMPROPER USE OF SCRIPTURE PHRASES.

To the Editor of the Christian Observer.

I HAVE read with interest, benefit, and thankfulness, the admirable work of the Bishop of Ohio, lately reviewed in your pages," Oxford Divinity compared with that of the Romish and Anglican Churches, with a special view of the Doctrine of Justification by Faith, as it was made of primary importance by the Reformers, and as it lies at the foundation of all scriptural views of the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ." I cannot but hope that it may be the means of shewing many who now border on the Tractarian doctrine, on what ground they must stand with reference to the Scriptures, the Church of England, and Romanism, if they join themselves to that sect altogether. I trust also it may open the eyes of that large body of persons who, without belonging to the Tractarian party, consider and often assert, that it has done much good, without stating or perceiving that it is doing immense mischief; that the supposed good is not of vital moment, whereas the evil is such as to do no less than subvert the most precious truths of the Gospel. And may it not be expected amongst the effects produced by the work of this able bishop of our sister-church in America, that many who were sound in doctrine may be confirmed in the truth, by listening to the testimony of the great cloud of witnesses produced in favour of the scriptural doctrine of justification by faith; and above all, to the clear and distinct exhibition of that momentous doctrine, by our church, in her articles and homilies, and in those catechisms which she sanctioned with her approval about the time of the Reformation ?

Such being my views of the value of the bishop's work, it is in no unkind spirit that I take up my pen to notice what appears to me to be a fault in it;-an error into which those who write on theological and religious subjects are so liable to fall, that it seems proper to express a word of warning against it. I mean, the employment of the language of Scripture in a sense not properly belonging to it, where other words might easily have been found, and where the use of the words of inspiration has somewhat of the character of trifling with Holy Writ, (though, I am persuaded, not really employed in any such spirit) and has a tendency to connect ideas foreign to the subject with the expressions so applied. What I mean may perhaps be better understood if I adduce some instances, and therefore I will refer to all those which I happen to have marked in the perusal of Bishop M'Ilvaine's book. At p. 8, he speaks of Oxford Divinity as to be recognized as of the house and lineage of popery. At p. 24, there is the employment of language which we do not see wrested from its proper use with so much jealousy, but which I confess grates upon my ear; the author considers that this reconstruction of the Romish system may not "necessarily be called Rome, and have all the forms and outward and visible signs of that inward and spiritual departure

from grace which is usually denominated Popery." At p. 26, we read that "for a variety of reasons many persons may not suspect that popery is advancing in disguise, so that men may be saying, where is the fear of his coming-for all things continue as they were from the beginning." At p. 70, justification by inherent righteousness is said to be "the very corner stone, elect and precious, of the whole system of this new divinity." At p. 80, the bishop exhibits the great change which we must make in our creeds, sermons, &c., if the cross we are to preach is a cross erected within us; and adds, that old things indeed must pass away, and all things become new. The same text is applied, (may I say misapplied?) in the same way at p. 526. At p. 541, this Oxford Divinity is described as pressing on to the prize of its high calling, and therefore soon likely "to cross the invisible line that separates from popish purgatory."

I hope, Sir, that it is not a superstitious veneration for the words of inspiration that provokes me to express a decided objection to this mode of applying them to purposes for which they were never designed. And if it is right to be thus jealous of their misuse, there is the more occasion to give expression to such an objection, because there is a strong temptation in the way of writers and speakers thus to transgress,—the forcible words of Holy Writ present themselves involuntarily to the mind, and go forth by the pen or the tongue before it has been considered whether they are employed in their proper signification.

I commend this subject to the considerate attention of your readers, and trust that these remarks may have the effect of putting them on their guard against a common error, which is not the less evil because it is common.

R.

We have more than once alluded to the subject touched upon by our correspondent. The manner in which Holy Writ is introduced in newspapers, and secular books and speeches, to point a phrase, or perhaps to raise a laugh, is distressing and often profane; and religious writers should specially beware that they give no countenance to it by introducing scripture phraseology, otherwise than in its strictly legitimate application. Bishop M'Ilvaine stands at so remote a distance from everything in the least approaching to levity, that the above quotations shew the more forcibly how readily a mind embued with Scripture diction, may occasionally use it unmeetly, though with no intentional irreverence; so that the illustrations are monitory, without reflecting upon the good intentions of the writer. Our correspondent himself might be thought in part to violate his own precept, by his adaptation of the Apostle Paul's phrase of "a cloud of witnesses," though not otherwise than in a serious spirit.

ON THE CONDUCT of the UNJUST STEWARD. (LUKE xvi. 1—9.) To the Editor of the Christian Observer.

In lately reading our Lord's parable of the unjust steward, of which I never met with a thoroughly satisfactory explanation, the following hypothesis struck me as not improbable.

My idea is, that the steward, finding himself about to be cast from his office, and knowing that his scanty means would soon be ex

pended, and himself reduced to want, devised the following plan to put persons under obligation to him. He desired his master's debtors to consider their debts smaller than they really were, and himself paid the balance. By thus laying out his little means in befriending those in difficulty, he secured their gratitude and attention to him when he was out of place.

This hypothesis, if admitted, takes away from the subject of our Lord's parable all imputation of dishonesty in the transaction for which he is praised. And it also gives a very plain and forcible meaning to our Lord's lesson, which will stand thus-'If this steward, when justly cast out of his place for unrighteous dealings, was wise enough to put his Lord's poor debtors under obligation to him by assisting them to pay their debts; do you, though your means may be small, and near an end, not scruple to assist the wants of those poorer than yourself, and then when you are in want they will assist you out of their poverty, and receive you into their houses; and when you go into the world of spirits, there will not be wanting those who will with joy welcome you as their benefactors into everlasting habitations.'

The only objection that I can see in the way of this interpretation, is that our Lord calls him (ver. 8) "the unjust steward." But may we not suppose that this designation of injustice proceeded from the fact of his having previously wasted his master's goods, and not from any injustice in the act by which he helped the debtors? Otherwise, however, we may guard our Lord's meaning, and say that he approved the wisdom, and not the dishonesty, of the steward (which is surely true;) there will still remain upon the mind a vague impression of something painful in the foundation of this moral

lesson.

If the above hypothesis is refused, may we not suppose that the steward had the right to lower, in certain cases, his Lord's accounts; as we find (Gen. xlvii. 19-26) that Joseph, in his capacity as Pharoah's steward, arranged and moderated the contributions which were to be paid to that monarch? Or is it possible that the steward's fault, in scattering his master's goods, may have consisted in this very spirit of generosity which would not exact his master's dues, and which he afterwards turned to so good account; and for which his master felt compelled to dismiss him, though he could not help praising the last instance of it? But I prefer the first supposition stated above.

Never having met with this view, I should be glad to know, if it is new, the opinion of yourself and your readers upon it.

MINISTER ANGLICANUS.

***As our correspondent asks our opinion, we will state it. The supposed difficulty appears to us to arise from not directing the attention to the purport of the parable, which is to shew that the children of light ought to be as wise for another world, as the children of darkness are for this; but without meaning that the crooked policy of the latter is morally commendable. In this view, there is no objection to obviate; but if there were, we could not admit of so far-fetched and improbable a solution as that the unjust steward diminished the debtors' bills in order to pay the balance out of his own purse. It is abundantly clear that he meant to gain their favour by

fraudently striking off a part of their debts to his lord; by which means he would have them in his power, as well as secure their good will. If he meant to appropriate his own money to make friends, he might have done it most effectually by a direct employment of it.

PROTESTANT COLONIAL TRUCKLING TO POPERY.

To the Editor of the Christian Observer.

I SEND you the following extract from the "Montreal Transcript" of June 15th, 1841.

"Sunday last was the day fixed by the Catholic Church for the annual procession in honour of the Fête Dieu. The weather was remarkably propitious, and the tens of thousands who attended to witness it were highly gratified. The procession was remarkable for that imposing solemnity with which the Catholics so well understand how to invest their religious ceremonies, and the canopy covering the Host was of unusual splendour. A detachment of the 7th Hussars preceded the numerous Priests, Nuns, and Scholars of the several religious establishments; in the rear of whom, and immediately preceding the Host, were those who carried the baskets of flowers, and strewed them in the air, and those who carried the censers. Immediately after the Host, followed the members of the Bar, which body was succeeded by the band of the 23rd Regiment, playing most beautifully, as if inspired by the solemnity of the occasion. Grenadiers of the 23rd, each with musket and fixed bayonet, marched at intervals of about ten paces on each side, thus protecting the flanks of the procession from any pressure by the assembled crowd. A great many of the Police were also in attendance; but we are happy to say that nothing could exceed the decorum and respect universally displayed. In the afternoon, after vespers, an impressive discourse was delivered by the Bishop of Nancy."

In this extract you have a sorrowful and humiliating description of Protestant subserviency to Romish superstition, as exhibited in Canada; an example of the power and majesty of Britain prostituted to wear the livery of idolatry. It is a subject which suggests many painful reflections, accompanied with perplexity of mind; as I apprehend will appear from the following considerations, which I shall propose in the form of queries.

1. Since the procession of the Fête Dieu and the worship of the Host are undoubtedly regarded as superstitious and idolatrous by the two established Protestant Communions of Great Britain and Ireland, let me ask, when British authorities, civil or military, professedly Protestant, lend their countenance and sanction to such proceedingswhen they guard them, honour them, decorate and glorify themagainst what do these authorities, professedly Protestant, PRO

TEST?

2. Does policy demand the sacrifice? Can there be any true policy irrespective of conscience and religion? Does policy require and exact this subserviency in Ireland with her five-fold majority of Romanists? Did policy extort it from Sir Peregrine Maitland, when, acting on his own fearless and conscientious judgment, in Montreal he delined to decorate Popery, and in Madras he refused to glorify Paganism with muskets, bayonets, military pomp, and music?

3. Does, then, the principle of reciprocity warrant these philo-papistical demonstrations? Is any public honour or homage paid to our religion by Romanists in any part of the world? Is a British soldier, by the forms of his commission or enlistment, not permitted to have a conscience in religion? Is he to be compelled to violate