ousness in the very sentence with which it begins-" In nomine Domini Nostri Jesu Christi, Ego Patricius humilis Serviculus Dei, anno Incarnationis ejusdem 425, in Hiberniam a Sanctissimo Patre Coelestino legatus," &c.; for it is well known that the era of our Lord's Incarnation was not in use in the fifth century, nor for at least four centuries after. The reduction of the cycle to the year of the Incarnation was first mentioned by Dionysius Exiguus, in 525, a century after the pretended date of this document.* For other works ascribed to St. Patrick, and which are either evident forgeries or not now extant, the reader is referred to Harris's edition of "Ware's Writers of Ireland," and the authorities there quoted.+ I cannot conclude this paper, although it is already too long, without mentioning the remaining contents of the very valuable and learned work with which M. Villanueva has enriched the ecclesiastical history of Ireland. No. II. of the Appendix is a Latin hymn, consisting of twenty-three stanzas of four lines, each of which begins with a letter of the alphabet. It is in praise of St. Patrick, and is attributed to St. Secundinus, a nephew and cotemporary of that prelate. M. Villanueva has added a Scholium, in which a critical history of this curious piece is given.‡ No. III. is a list of the cities, churches, and monastic houses of Ireland which were destroyed or spoiled in the various troubles, insurrections, and invasions of that country, from the death of St. Patrick to the twelfth century. The object of this very interesting collection of historical facts is, to account for the loss of that immense number of books and documents belonging to what we may call the patrician age of the Irish church, the For other arguments against the authenticity of this piece, see the Bollandists' Acta Sanctor. Vit. S. Patr. ad 17, Martii. Prolegom., § 10, No. 72; and the Scholion which follows it in M. Villanueva's work, where it is printed in the Appendix No. I. + See also Colgan, Trias Thaum., in quarto, Append. ad Acta S. Patricii, parte ii. To the repetition of this hymn sundry miraculous virtues were attributed; by reciting it, persons have been known, as Joceline assures us, to pass invisible through the midst of their enemies. Many such stories of its power will be found in Colgan's notes on the Life of St. Aidan, Bishop of Ferns, (in 13 Jan,, n. xxxiii.) See also Jocel. Vit. S. Patr., cap. 177-9. "Talium gratiarum (says M. Villanueva, p. 314,) quæ si vera sunt, inter res mirificas numerantur, judicium facere non ausim." M. Villanueva does not appear to have been aware that the very ancient copy of this hymn from which Ware transcribed it is still preserved in the Library of Trinity College, Dublin. It is written on vellum, in a character certainly older than the tenth century, with an interlineary gloss in Irish characters, and some marginal notes in Latin and Irish. The volume contains also several other curious pieces of a similar kind, and, what is very peculiar, short biographical notices of the authors of them are prefixed to several of the hymns. These are written in a mixture of Latin and Irish; but all in Irish characters coeval apparently with the rest of the MS. existence of which is attested by the Irish annalists and other sources of Irish history. No. IV. is an essay on the mode of election and confirmation of bishops in Ireland after the death of St. Patrick. It is full of deep learning and extensive knowledge of ecclesiastical antiquity, and contains some curious historical information relative to the jurisdiction of the Archbishop of Canterbury over the Irish churches. Towards 'the end, the author seems a little perplexed at the necessity of reconciling primitive usages with the present practice of the church of Rome in Ireland. This is followed (No. V.) by a long and tedious dissertation on the legend of the transformation of King Coroticus into a wolf! The serious discussion of such a question in twenty-nine closely printed pages, and with all the artillery of deep learning, appears to us Anglicans somewhat ludicrous; but a divine, in the Roman Communion, is obliged in his daily devotions to read so many legends equally incredible, that he may be well excused if he deal with points of this kind more tenderly, and be after all compelled to ensconce himself behind the saying of St. Augustine" Illa quæ . . . . ab iis conscripta sunt qui non sunt divinitus docti, atque humanitus falli forte potuerunt, licet cuique, sine recta reprehensione, non credere." The appendix is closed (No. VI.) by a copious and very interesting list of the prelates and others eminent for sanctity, who flourished in Ireland in the fifth and sixth centuries, and who owed their piety and learning, under God, to the schools and churches established by the labours of St. Patrick in that country. The reader to whom this subject is new, will be astonished at the number of names contained in this Album Sanctorum, and at the abundance of the information we possess relative to that very singular period of the history of Christianity in Ireland. It is gratifying, amid the din of polemical warfare, and the abominations of Irish political faction, to have a book like this published in Ireland, from the pen of a Roman-catholic priest; and although that priest be a foreigner, it is not perhaps unreasonable to infer from the appearance of such a work, and the encouragement it has received,† that learning and clerical pursuits have not been altogether exchanged, even by the Romish priests of Ireland, for the labours of political agitation, and the secret fostering of seditious opposition to the laws. May the example of M. Villanueva be followed by many in the communion to De Civit. Dei, lib. xxi. Much of that encouragement, however, it should be remarked, has been from protestants. Of the 137 subscribers to M. Villanueva's work, thirty, if I have counted right, are protestants; five have subscribed for two copies, and one for ten. Of the twenty-seven Romish bishops now in Ireland, thirteen only appear in the list of subscribers. which he belongs, for nothing but real learning and knowledge of ecclesiastical antiquity, on both sides, will ever bring us to a calm and fair discussion of the points so long disputed between Romanists and the Church of England. HIBERNICUS.* MY FIRST VISITATION OF THE SICK. It was in the spring of the year 18 that I found myself at W, a village in one of the southern counties, a newlyordained deacon, and about to enter upon my duties, as curate, under an aged vicar, who had been long in a state of decline. Young as I was, inexperienced, and naturally timid, I felt that I was about to plunge at once into a responsibility the most fearful, involving, as it did virtually, the sole charge of an ignorant flock. My vicar laid before me, in few words, the condition of the parish of which I was about to undertake the care. With the exception of the due performance of the morning and afternoon service each Sabbath day, many of the duties of the minister had, from unfortunate circumstances, been inadequately performed for several years. I attempted to correct the evils which had thus arisen, under the full conviction that there can be no failure in so holy a cause; and it pleased God to give me more success than I could have hoped. But to one duty, the visitation of the sick, I long looked forward with a hesitation almost amounting to fear, although it had always been my theory, as it is now my experience, that, next to preaching, there is no instrument more powerful than that of personal visitation in the hands of a zealous minister. Preaching establishes and enforces general truths-nay, it may sometimes strike the individual home, though no one person might have been particularized to the mind's eye, and though the shaft should fly with no particular aim. "A random shaft, in season sent, Keble's "Christian Year," p. 324. Still the individual effect produced by preaching is always uncertain. It is when the official elevation is laid aside, and "Hibernicus's" wish is one in which all must heartily join. But does he know of any work like M. Villanueva's from the pen of an Irish priest?-ED. + Perhaps, on second thoughts, the writer of this paper may be inclined to doubt whether this branch of the pastoral office comes after preaching; or, rather, whether preaching is the most powerful instrument in the hands of the Christian minister. Many circumstances may lessen the efficacy of preaching, but no accidental defects can have any unfavourable effect on the faithful exhortation given in private.-ED. VOL. VIII.-Nov. 1835. 4 K the minister shares in the free intercourse of hearth and homeit is then full confidence is firmly established, and he is regarded as the friend-it is then that he is appealed to for advice or comfort under difficulties or misery, which are freely imparted to him. The doubt, the fear, the error, which his discourses from the pulpit might never have reached-nay, the very shades of difference in any or all of these are laid before him in their individual reality: the doubt is cleared away, the fear removed, the error exposed; and thus, for every particular disease, the precise remedy is drawn from the only true and sufficient storehouse; into each particular wound the balm and oil are poured ; when, but for this familiar ministerial intercourse, the wound could not have been healed, because its very existence would have remained unknown. But I have said, that, however deep was my impression of the usefulness of ministerial visitation, I shrunk from attendance upon the sick, at first, with a sensation very nearly approaching to fear. Does this seem strange? I believe I might appeal to any young clergyman for a confirmation of feelings which I am about to describe. The admirable form prescribed in the Book of Common Prayer for the visitation of the sick is, in many cases, available chiefly as a groundwork on which to build a systemas an outline, which may be filled up according to the circumstances or duration of the case. It would be as unwise to use that form day by day without enlargement, as to pass to the other extreme, and indulge in extemporaneous prayer, to the exclusion of the prescribed form. Now, it seemed to me that on this filling up of the outline depended much of the sufferer's good or bad preparation for death, and that therefore it became a matter of most affecting interest. To measure out hope by a true measure, to inspire no false sense of security, to hold out warnings or threats only when the hardened heart can be moved by no gentler means— never to startle the timid soul, nor crush the bruised spirit,-all this seemed to me the most difficult of tasks. For how heavy a responsibility lies on him who pours forth the terrors of God's wrath, and sends a brother's spirit from its earthly tenement without hope or comfort, when the sinking soul should have been taught to sing for joy! And how much more dreadful the error of him who has stood by the bed-side of the unrepentant sinner, only to smooth his brow, and soothe his agony, by a false tale of ungrounded hope,-who has there raised his voice, only to delude the dying man's conscience, to calm his fears, and bid him “go in peace," when there is no peace, no hope-nought but the sin and folly of a long and hardened life, to abide strict and righteous judgment ! I may have spoken strongly, but I have only spoken fairly, of the feelings with which I was accustomed to contemplate the ap proach of that duty, from the moment that I arrived at WThe spring had gone by, and summer was almost merging into autumn, when, on a fine tranquil evening, I was returning from a long and delightful ramble, in my parish, to the neighbouring town, in which, from the absence of all proper accommodation in W, I was compelled to reside. One of my parishioners overtook me on my road, and, after a few common-place observations, told me that William Robinson, a young man whose conduct had made some stir in the parish, was supposed to be dying, and that he wished to see me the next morning, if I could conveniently come. I, of course, promised to do so; and, having parted with my good friend, I traced my steps homeward, in a state of mind in which a determination to do my duty was strangely checked by fear of the scene on which I was about to enter; for the circumstances of the case were most painful. A custom was unhappily prevalent in that neighbourhood, of considering the period of the solemnization of matrimony as a matter of secondary importance. It was no uncommon thing to see the bride approach the altar in a state of pregnancy. Not many weeks before I was thus addressed concerning William Robinson, I had officiated at a funeral which excited, as I could see, the interest of the whole village. In the same coffin were enclosed the remains of a mother, who had died in her twentieth year, and her first and only child, that had breathed but to die. But she had not been married: she had confided in a promise, by which hundreds before her had been persuaded. The promise had been broken. She was deserted in her hour of misery; and it pleased God that she should not survive, to offer thanks to him for having spared her "in the great danger of child-birth." While I was reading the service at her grave, I observed a young man, not far off, leaning against a tomb-stone, and looking on the scene with sullen indifference. That young man was William Robinson. It was he who had led the departed one to her grave of sin, and followed her, unmourning, to her last, long home. Not one word of the affecting service touched his heart; he braved the gaze of man, and the voice of God; and, when the blessing had been pronounced, he sauntered from the churchyard with as little apparent emotion as if he had been listening to a dull speech, or sharing in a wearisome form. But sin such as his could not be embalmed in apathy like this. Solitude and conscience, under God's blessing, soon began their work. Remorse came over him; thoughts that he had suppressed sprang up from their torpor. The body soon shared in the suffering of the mind; and, at the time that I was sent for, he was described to me as labouring under weakness of body, and agony of soul, such that, while he shrank from death with horror, he |