they have availed themselves of another singular opportunity to give public expression to their opinions on the subject. The Regius Professor of Greek in the University of Oxford, one of the contributors to the notorious volume, has the ridiculously inadequate stipend of £40 a-year. A proposal to augment this small amount has been refused by a majority of the University,-not in a temper of niggardliness, or a spirit of persecution as against the accomplished scholar who holds the Greek chair; but as an expression of their judgment on the important subjects which have lately occupied the ecclesiastical courts. It is unfortunate that the decision appears to bear severely on an individual Professor of great philological ability; but it is still more unfortunate to see one in his position using superior powers to unsettle young minds on truths so vital and precious as the inspiration of Holy Scripture. It has been said by his advocates, that " theological orthodoxy is less essential to a Professorship of Greek, as such, than sound Greek philology, and a profound acquaintance with Greek literature." True; but, if both qualifications can be found in one man, is not hethe man for the chair of a Christian University? Would the Methodists be willing to dispense with "theological orthodoxy" in a Classical Tutor at Richmond or Didsbury? They, at least, will sympathize with those members of the Oxford Convocation who cried, Non placet. The "rubicund Rectors," who are sneered at by the secular press for their vote on this occasion, saw in it, rightly enough, something more than a question of remuneration for work done. They saw a danger-not withstanding a clause in the proposition to the contrary-that their vote might be interpreted favourably to the views held by Professor Jowett; and they saw especially that they had for once an opportunity of giving their judg

ment on the merits of "Essays and Reviews."

The Bishop of London, not withstanding his defection from the interests of scriptural orthodoxy as a member of the Privy Council in the recent decision, has had the courage to convoke and face the clergy of his diocese. Perhaps he thought that the object for which he called them together, namely, the extension of Church of England agency in the metropolis, would cover this offence. Certainly, the project which he advocates is a great and noble one. No moral waste presents a scene of greater destitution than London. In no place are evil influences more awfully at work for the overthrow of morality, and the ruin of souls. Immense sacrifices, self-denying efforts, and fervent prayers for power from on high, are needed to cope with the abounding ungodliness; and all these must be put forth by the Christian church, ere the plague can be stayed. Let the Establishment raise the proposed £3,000,000,—which she can easily do. Let her build sanctuaries and schools, set up Missions, and employ Scripture-readers and Biblewomen. There will still be left sufficient material in the vast mass to occupy the energies of Methodists, and of all Nonconformists. What kind of agency may be engaged under the Bishop's scheme, it is impossible to say. Much will depend on that. Neither Puseyism on the one hand, nor Rationalism on the other, can regenerate the seething mass. The sinners of the metropolis, like those of other places, need Gospel with an atonement in it, and the power of the Holy Ghost.

The war in the Danish Duchies, happily, is not yet very sanguinary; but, lest it should increase in violence and extent, it is greatly to be desired that the persevering efforts of our own Government for the settlement of the dispute may be

passed, and calling to see the schoolmaster (a class-leader) in his new house, which adjoined the schoolroom. As we worshipped there, and met for tickets, how unconscious were we of the destiny, then hanging over the building, that would sweep away the property of one classleader, and leave the other houseless, while its grim shadow darkened his prospects of future life!—Mr. Ibbotson's corn-mill, and the schoolroom, (to build which he had taken such pains,) were among the first objects struck by the furious waters. The school, being a new erection, soon went; but the mill, an older and substantial building, struggled with its fate till the water reached nearly to the top of it; then, as we were told, it went down "as though it had been a wicker-basket." Mr. Nichols, the schoolmaster, and his wife, were aroused by a neighbour, and just escaped with their lives. Mr. Ibbotson's house was untouched, being too high up on the bank to be reached by the flood. The waters whirled around our chapel, which is on the other side of the stream, and almost swept down the walls surrounding the yard; but the chapel is a strong building, and still stands amid the scene of desolation.

As we sat in the school-room that Monday evening, so man often sits under the overhanging cloud of his destiny, all unconscious of the impending fate; and happy is it for him when he can see the bow in the cloud, the sign to him that his destiny is in the hands of an all-wise, allloving Lord, to whom he has sworn allegiance, and rendered the homage of a penitent and loving heart. So unconsciously sat, and afterwards slept, in treacherous security, the inhabitants of the valley below Bradfield on that Friday night. "They did eat," little thinking that the destroying angel upon the face of the waters hovered near them," they drank," they slept, till the flood came, and

took them away by hundreds. In the evening "all things continued as they were;" in the morning all was changed. Death had drowned alike the voice of sorrow and of song; had laid the strong man low; had wrapped in muddy winding-sheet the blooming maiden; had loosened the tiny silver cord of infantile life; had swept whole families into one common grave, and riven asunder the bonds which made others compact. Desolation reigned around, amid which the survivers stood pallid with fear, struck dumb with amazement, their lips quivering, and downcast eyes, whose fountains seemed congealed with fright. The terrors of that night cannot be told. We were permitted to look upon the dreadful wreck; but the raging of the storm was hidden from us. The valley was covered with the dark, cold cloud of night. The young moon had set, as though she would not give her beautiful light to the work of devastation. And it is left to the imagination to depict the career of violence and ruin. Could we have stood on the hill above Low-Bradfield, and seen the outburst, and watched its first sweep of bridges and buildings,-could we have stood on the rising ground above Malin-Bridge, and watched its ominous rush down the narrow valley till it dashed against and over the house of Mr. Tricket, taking away with a stroke himself and his family, to the number of eleven,could we have stood on the battlements of the new barracks, and witnessed its struggles with the dense resistance offered by the houses at Hillsborough, which made it of necessity divide its volume; and then seen it sweep across the plain at Owlerton, till turned by the opposing hills at Wardsend and Parkwood; and then watched it, as with united force it rolled through Neepsend, and Harvest-Lane, along the "White Rails," and down the Wicker

toward Brightside and Rotherham, bearing with it the bodies of men, women, and children, horses, cows, and pigs, uprooted trees, stout timbers, and the débris of whole houses with their furniture,—it would surely have been a sight of surpassing terror and savage grandeur, appalling in its tremendous power!

But the dreadful sight was not allowed to any. In mercy, perhaps, this dire tragedy was enacted in the dark depth of midnight. It is noteworthy, at least, that both this and the Holmfirth calamity happened about that time.

We cannot now give anything like an idea of the scene of death and desolation, reaching some twelve or fifteen miles from Bradfield, and embracing the most thickly-populated part of Sheffield, where also some of the largest manufactories are found. To do this would require a volume, rather than a single page. The widespread destruction began at MalinBridge. Those acquainted with the country will know that from Dainflask to Malin-Bridge the Loxley runs through a deep but narrow valley, almost like a gorge, skirted with high, precipitous hills. Down this valley, fearful havoc was made with the forges, hammers, mills; but the water was confined within a small space by the bounding acclivities. And, thus limited, it seems to have gathered strength and fury from the restraint, till it reached the outlet of the valley. Then LittleMatlock and Malin-Bridge felt the first shock of the leaping of its furious strength; and the devastation wrought baffles all description. Much of the mischief is apparent; much more will be gradually disclosed; but very much, we fear, will never be known, and many bodies of the dead will never be recovered. Many men had brought their families into this neighbourhood to find work, and were therefore strangers. In such cases, where the whole

family has perished, there will be none to identify, to mourn, or to explore. Of the two hundred and forty who are now reckoned to have perished, only one hundred and fifty have been identified. The damage done to property is estimated at £500,000; but this is, perhaps, much under the truth. Our chapel at Owlerton was scarcely touched. It was effectually guarded by the strength of the massive new barracks. But not so with the Ebenezer chapel, Sheffield. There the stone-wall and the railings were washed down on three sides; and the yard, and the cellar under the chapel, were completely flooded. Divine service could not be held there on Sunday last. It is not true, however, that bodies were "floated out of their graves," as reported by some. Those who know Ebenezer chapel are aware that it has never had a burial-ground at all.

Many thrilling incidents of the flood could be narrated,-instances of remarkable deliverance from death, and of courageous and successful effort to save life. The rolling of that one overwhelming wave was brief. It swept down the country with the speed of an avalanche, having no forerunner, no follower. One mighty mountain mass of water rushed on with impetuous violence, scattering death and devastation; and, during its short, hasty, but destructive march, a hundred touching incidents transpired, each one involving the gain or loss of tremulous, precious life.

The demeanour of the suffering survivers is, on the whole, resigned and patient; firm, manly, and in some instances truly Christian. We asked one, who had lost everything, if he required immediate relief. He replied, "No, thank God, Sir; I have 'summut' to eat and drink." The conduct of our public officials of every class, in this dread calamity, has been worthy of all praise. The tone of feeling at the public meeting,

was rich and deep. Many of the workmen are devoting one day's wages to the relief of their distressed fellows. And, indeed, as a gentleman of eminent character and position among us said, "Sheffield has thrilled through every fibre of her frame," under this appalling catastrophe. The subscription-list amounts at present [the date given below] to £17,000; most of which has been subscribed by the town itself.

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We greatly need the sympathy and help of other towns. Some have already proffered sympathy in substantial shape, and others are following. A few blows have also been dealt out to Sheffield. Perhaps she deserves them; but we would, if they must fall, that they were given more in sorrow than in anger." Bad as Sheffield may be, this is scarcely the time for taunting. Her wounds bleed; let her neighbours now pour in "oil and wine," and these may have, with the blessing of God, a gracious power to soften her hardness of heart, to kill with kindness the social lepers which are the pests of her streets and alleys, and to prepare the way of the Lord among her people generally. At least, she needs help now; and though a few may refuse it, our confidence is, that Englishmen will be true to their national instinct, and act out the teaching, "If one member suffer, all the members suffer with it."

Of course, there is much talk about the cause of this disaster, and Sheffield, March 19th, 1864.

who is responsible for it. Some talk in the style of that clever but mal à propos article in the "Times" the other day, as though the WaterWorks Company had elaborately prepared this display of water-power. But we need not discuss this question. A searching investigation is in progress; and, doubtless, the truth will come out. If the rumours about unsuitable material and faulty construction of the embankment turn out to be true, grave censure will fall upon the engineer and managers. But rumours are unsafe, and we ought to judge nothing before the time.

Let us rather look at it as a mournful, dreary, admonitory fact; as an illustration of the imperfect control of man over the forces of nature, the uncertainty of all his calculations, the infirmity which enters into all his plans and workings, and the insecurity of his life. How helplessly do we lie at the feet of the Great Disposer of life and its events! "Unto God the Lord belong the issues from death." We trace His hand in this dire calamity. We "hear the rod, and who hath appointed it.” Yea, "the Lord's voice crieth unto the city." Hundreds of our neighbours have perished in a night! May we read the lessons of God's grace in this lesson of His providence! May this painful event be sanctified to the quickening of His church and people, and to the salvation of many, very many immortal souls!

JOSEPH WILLIS.

that the readers of newspapers will in future be spared the perusal of wearisome legal discussions in our courts of law under the heading, "Cardross Case." It is now upwards of five years since the case made its first appearance in the Court of Session; and since then its pros