most valuable information is supplied-the Fathers of the Church, and the ecclesiastical historians. He saw that however laborious this branch of study would prove, it was calculated, not only to advance him in his profession, but, what was of still higher value in his eyes, to promote the great interests of Christianity. His solid judgment led him to perceive the great advantage which an intimate acquaintance with these primitive writers must afford to the divine in all controversial questions, and in all discussions where it becomes necessary to appeal to the opinions maintained by the Church in its early state to trace, as it were, the stream of religious knowledge up to its source, before the troubled waters of heresy had sought to mingle with its proper current. And he was also well aware, that in proportion as the orthodox church neglected to make use of these most efficient weapons against her assailants, the more daring would the sectarian become in his attacks, the more unrestrained in the boldness of his assertions. This he felt to be peculiarly the case with the Unitarian heresy; and he was ever most sensibly alive to the pernicious tendency of its doctrines as being adverse to the scheme of redemption, and repugnant to the revealed will of God; whilst it appeared to him, at the same time, that its partisans were most zealous and active in propagating their opinions, and most unscrupulous also in their method of handling the sacred text and interpreting its meaning."

The fruits of this his course of study were given to the Church in 1826, when his first work, "The Testimonies of the Ante-Nicene Fathers to the Divinity of Christ," was published by the Delegates of the University Press. At the recommendation of Dr. Lloyd, his former tutor and friend, and then Regius Professor of Divinity, Mr. Burton accepted the office of select preacher in the years 1824-25; and by his advice also resumed his residence at Oxford in 1825, when he married Helen, the second daughter of Archdeacon Corbett, of Longnor in Shropshire.

In 1827, he acted as public examiner in the schools; and the same year became chaplain to Dr. Lloyd, who was made bishop of Oxford, on the decease of Dr. Legge. At the request of the Delegates of the University Press, he superintended an edition of Bishop Bull's works, verifying every quotation from the best editions of the Fathers; and also a new edition of the Heraclid and Medea of Euripides, from the papers of his deceased friend Dr. Elmsley. These, and his other literary labours, pursued from an early hour during the whole morning, and during a long evening, often even till midnight, were injurious to a constitution not originally robust, and insufficiently strengthened by air and exercise; and produced threatening symptoms during the summer of 1828, which medical care and rest removed.

The succeeding winter and spring were devoted to his preparation for the duties of Bampton Lecturer. He chose for his subject "The Heresies of the Apostolic Age;" and has illustrated the subject with a clearness, and compass of reading, which establish his character as a first-rate theologian, and confer a great benefit on the student of the New Testament, and early Ecclesiastical History. About this time Mr. Burton declined the offer of the see of Calcutta, on the lamented decease of Bishop Heber.

The premature death of Bishop Lloyd, after a short illness, in 1829, occasioned Mr. Burton's elevation to the chair of theology, as Regius Professor, on the advice of the Duke of Wellington, as Prime Minister of the Crown. The new professor became D.D., June 26, 1829, and devoted

the summer to the preparation of his lectures; and the same year entered upon residence as Rector of Ewelme, near Oxford, the parish annexed to his professorship.

He established schools for both sexes; and was assiduous in catechising, visiting the sick and infirm, and ministering to the wants of the poor. When present there, the parishioners seemed to absorb his whole time and care. He procured the thorough repair and restoration of the church, inducing the parishioners to give up their pews for open seats, throughout the church.

When professionally resident in Oxford, he appeared entirely devoted to the instruction of the students in theology, and to the acquisition and diffusion of theological knowledge. His predecessor, Bishop Lloyd, had combined the instruction of private classes, with the delivery of public lectures; and to this plan be adhered. "To one class he explained the Epistles of St. Paul; with another, he read some portion of the Fathers; with a third he entered on a course of ecclesiastical history; and whether he was called upon to communicate instruction, or to give advice, he rendered himself accessible to every one at all times with invariable kindness and courtesy, and that unassuming modesty and simplicity which peculiarly adorned his character.

His works, including sermons and pamphlets, were numerous; and they are collected in five volumes 8vo. Two of these we must here mention. "The Testimonies of the Ante-Nicene fathers to the doctrine of the Trinity and the Divinity of the Holy Ghost," and "Lectures on the Ecclesiastical History of the three first centuries, from the crucifixion of Jesus Christ to the year 313," an abridgment of which, for the Education Committee of the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, was his last work. Had he lived, we might have had the same continuous narrative carried down through the succeeding centuries; a work much needed.

In the beginning of 1835, his weak frame was attacked by inflammation of the chest; and although he was then restored, another severe attack, in the winter of 1836, terminated fatally. He preached, although his chest was much affected, for the last time on Jan. 10th; and so rapid were the advances of disease, that he breathed his last on the 19th of January, 1836, and was interred, at his own request, in the church-yard of Ewelme.

The loss of this pious, judicious, and active person was great to his family and friends, and great also to the Church. We might have anticipated much benefit from his professional instructions of the candidates for the ministry, and from his publications. The painful dissensions which arose respecting his successor, Dr. Hampden, might not have occurred. And further, in these days when so many of his juniors in Oxford have advocated opinions of an extreme and extravagant character, and some of them have at length adopted almost all the peculiar corruptions of Romanism, even of Papal Romanism, he might have had great and salutary influence in maintaining, against the revival of such later and medieval corruptions, the faith of our restored and reformed Church, the faithful, and we trust, still divinely protected witness to pure, primitive, and Catholic, scriptural truth. But it has seemed otherwise to the great Head of the Church. It becomes us to remember such, and to "follow their faith, remembering the end of their conversations: Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to-day and for ever."

PAUL OF SAMOSATA ;

A TALE OF THE ANCIENT SYRIAN CHURCH.

(By a Correspondent of the Church.)

CHAP. IV.THE INQUIRING HEATHEN.-QUEEN ZENOBIA.

THE morning of the day which succeeded the events of our last chapter was bright and calm; and the landscape in the vicinity of the secluded dwelling wore an appearance of repose which corresponded well with the peace of mind enjoyed by our small Christian community, when at an early hour they offered to God the morning sacrifice of their devotions in the open air, and hailed the return of light, not with the idolatrous prostrations of the Persian worshipper of the sun, but with the rational gratitude of the Christian, instructed to look beyond the material luminary to Him who made the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night,"the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning."

About two hours had elapsed since their morning meal, when the father and son, accompanied by their faithful friend Polybius, issued forth on their visit to the city; the manner and circumstances of which they had concerted beforehand. The object of the Bishop of Antioch was to solicit an interview with Zenobia herself, with the intention of dissuading her, if possible, from any longer exerting her authority to screen Paul of Samosata-his perfidious predecessor-from the just displeasure of his ecclesiastical superiors. The undertaking, he knew, was a hazardous one; he had nothing to oppose to the power and intrigue of his adversary but integrity and the justness of his cause; yet he was by no means disheartened by the prospect before him. The incidents of the previous evening, which caused him amid the sorrows of his grey hairs to rejoice in the recovery of a long-lost child, were thankfully embraced by the aged prelate as a direct interposition of God in his behalf, and an encouraging pledge of the Divine Presence guiding his footsteps and hallowing his path. He was now assured, so far as hope could convey assurance, that his labours would be crowned with success; and in this conviction he felt prepared to go on his way rejoicing.

The road into which they entered from the bye-path which led to the cottage, was the thoroughfare between Palmyra and Damascus. It was thronged with caravans, either moving towards the city to discharge their precious freight, or returning from it after the delivery of their burdens. Each side was lined with villas, designed and built in the most graceful style of Grecian architecture, and adorned with all the exterior decorations that riches could purchase and the genius of that period invent. These were the property of the nobility or the wealthier class of citizens; and were separated by gardens which, in point of beauty, though not in grandeur, might almost have competed with those which Babylon received from the extravagance of her monarch. The solitary traveller who gazes upon that once elegant prospect, where nature and art met in amicable alliance, and tasked their

united powers to please,-in its present desolate condition, sees before him an affecting picture of man's littleness, a melancholy evidence of the infirmity of his noblest purposes, and the poverty of his greatest designs. No vestige of these palaces now remains to point out even the spot where they stood, save where here and there "the silent pillar, lone and gray," rears its crumbling form on the face of a widespread desert which threatens soon to cover with its sands every relic which has hitherto been spared. The garden has again been transformed into its primitive waste; and the fountain, which once threw its delicious coolness on the air around, has long since disappeared from its basin.

Such were the evidences of commercial enterprise on the one hand: the traces of military genius were equally obvious on the other. The city itself, about a mile in front, presented the appearance of a beleaguered fortress. It had been rumoured for some time before, that Aurelian, after chastising the Goths, meditated an invasion of the East, but, up to the present moment, it had not become certain whether Palmyra or Persia were the point of attraction. Persia, indeed, was the natural foe, and many years had not elapsed since a Roman army had been beaten back in disgrace from its territories: Persia then, had fairly provoked, and had every reason to dread, the vengeance of Aurelian, whose leading object it was to restore to Rome the celebrity enjoyed by her in the brilliant age of the Antonines. But Palmyra, though professedly the Emperor's ally, had done enough, and more than enough, in augmentation of wealth and extension of conquest, to rouse his jealousy. Zenobia, at all events, judged it prudent to be prepared for the worst; and subsequent events, which we must not anticipate, justified the precaution. The wall before them, whose height alone was sufficient to intimidate a besieging force, was crowned at intervals with towers, rising to the height of thirty or forty feet, from which the defenders of the city could discharge, with comparative safety to themselves, all their missiles of destruction on the foe or the engines beneath them. The sentinels alert in the performance of their duty (for the discipline of Zenobia's army was renowned for its strictness,) were engaging in pacing to and fro on the wall, whilst the sharp clang of the armed heel, mingling occasionally with the loud challenge and response, rang with startling shrillness through the air, and made itself heard above all the surrounding din and commotion.

They had advanced some distance on their way to the city, beguiling the road with remarks on the various objects around them, when they were overtaken by an individual, attired in the military garb of a horseman, whom Callias recognised as Lentulus, a centurion of Zenobia's guards and the officer who was stationed with a body of soldiers at the gate by which they purposed to enter. He was a middle-aged man, and his demeanour was more grave and sedate than would have been expected from his occupation. It appeared from his subsequent conversation that he was one of that class, now rapidly increasing in number, who were dissatisfied with the popular superstitions, and were anxious to exchange a religious system, manifestly of human institution, for one which might evince marks of a Divine original. Upon his approach he accosted Callias with much courtesy and kindness; and, when he had been informed of their destination, expressed his readiness to conduct them to Zabdas, the Queen's General, preparatory to admission into the palace. This occurrence was, at the time, most fortunate, as it served to expedite the business in which they were engaged.

After a delay of a few moments, they re-commenced their progress. In reply to some casual remark made by Lentulus, Domnus, with whom he was engaged in conversation, observed,—“ The affair, noble Sir, to which we are anxious to direct your sovereign's attention, is connected with the interests of our Church; but affects, nevertheless, in a great degree, her own reputation for equity, as well as the popularity of her hitherto lenient sway. You seem surprised that I should thus connect the welfare of our community with the well-being of this nation and the stability of Zenobia's throne. But the Christian name, as you must be aware, is rapidly rising into consequence. It is true that we aim not at political influence; our desire is, on the contrary, to be dissevered, as far as possible, from secular transactions; yet our very numbers, apart from the literary distinction we can fairly vindicate to our body, should suggest to the ruling authorities, instead of destroying those who have been guilty of no real offence, the expediency of extending to us also the civil privileges and legal protection which others are permitted to enjoy. And it is by administering her government in accordance with this equitable policy, that Zenobia will find herself capable of preserving the security of her yet infant state, against the inroads of foreign invasion and the more alarming evils of intestine disorder."

"I take no shame to myself, holy Father," rejoined Lentulus, "when I confess that it has always appeared to me a prudent measure in the policy of our Queen that she has resolved to shield the members of your persuasion from violence and outrage. The Christians, though of peaceful habits, can claim the honour of giving to Palmyra some of her best artizans, scholars, and counsellors. I am a Roman citizen, though enlisted for some time in the service of this state, and my opinions on this subject have been formed from experience. A better emperor than Alexander Severus never wore the Roman purple; yet he was a favourer of the Christians, and is even suspected, without reason, however, of having been one of their number. Those emperors who have treated this unfortunate communion with equity and toleration have always been more prosperous and honoured, than those who have signalized themselves in the wicked enterprise of destroying them. To sustain this statement, which I make not unadvisedly, I need only refer to such men as Nerva, Adrian, Antonius Pius, Alexander Severus ; compared with Nero, who lived like a lion, and died like a dog; Septimius Severus, whose life was embittered at its close by the dissensions of his family; Heliogabulus, a monster in the shape of a man, who was torn from his mother's arms and murdered by his soldiers; and Valerian, who perished by one of the most horrible deaths that cruelty is capable of devising.

"If I mistake not," replied the Bishop of Antioch, " you are one, whom natural seriousness disposes to inquire into the pretensions of Christianity,— to inspect its usages and to study its doctrines, and not to reject them, as the greater number do, before examination.

"I am ready," said the centurion, "to examine with patience the evidences ofa religion which engages to give me satisfaction-the satisfaction of Divine revelation, for the want of which mankind is pining and withering upon the earth,-touching the life beyond the grave; which professes to achieve over the doubts of our philosophers no less a triumph than the removal of every obscurity that shrouds the immortality of the soul. In such a case,--when the theme is the most interesting that can absorb the thoughts of man,—it were passing strange that I should evince a reluctance, at least, to hear; though it